Random request for help, please. My DD has a job interview in Dundee in a couple of hours. She’s just got to her car and battery is completely dead. Don’t suppose there’s anyone in Rob Roy Halls with access to jump start cables?
Oh no! Poor her. Sorry, can’t help, but hope she gets sorted soon.
Son might have charging cables. He’s in RR. Let me see.
No. Sorry. Good luck, though!
Husband visiting DD there as we speak. Pretty sure he has some.
*Fingers crossed emoji *
Yep. He can help. Which car park?
I’ll DM you.
Dear all. Thanks for offers of help and encouragement. DD made the interview and got the job!
Fantastic news.
Great to hear!
Chapter 28
HEATHER
Heatherbundleshernewclient’s ordered receipts dating up to last April and secures them with a paperclip. She’s entered them into the bookkeeping database, and she’ll file them later. The yet unprocessed receipts for other clients sit in piles elsewhere on the dining room table, but they will need to wait. She needs to prioritise the irate e-mails asking for clarification on this and an explanation on that. She pulls her laptop forward and begins to read.
“Does she realise that the financial year end is fast approaching?”demands one fractious client. “Yes,” she types in as placatory a manner as she can muster, “but don’t worry – we’re on schedule. I’ll confirm after the weekend.”
Thank goodness she’s kept the next four days free to catch up on things. Even if it means working through the night, she needs to get this done. The tedium of receipt inventory will need to be relegated to the small hours when it doesn’t matter if she’s half asleep. She glances towards the easel and painting materials heaped in the corner of the room. Next year, she thinks, my deadlines will be more satisfying to achieve. She opens her major customer’s portfolio and sets to work.
A hammering on the door interrupts her rhythm. Heather looks up from her laptop and scans the room. Did she order a delivery? Have the new neighbours run out of milk? She’s still considering when there is an audible fumble at the front door, and a familiar voice shouts into the hallway.
‘Are you in, sis?’
Heather’s heart lifts. Fraser hasn’t granted her an impromptu visit in months, and they’ve barely been in touch since he agreed to her borrowing Maisie for painting practice in a few days. Her reaction is visceral. She’s missed her brother. She moves her laptop to the side and stands to greet him at the entrance to the lounge.
‘Fraser! What a brilliant surprise!’ She pulls her not-so-little brother into a bear hug. The smell that engulfs her causes her to take a few steps back. ‘Phew. You’ve been busy, I can tell,’ she says. He’s still in his customary heavier winter kilt: rough woollen socks and hiking boots, but he’s replaced his fleece top and down jacket with a light grey t-shirt.
