Page 100 of A Scottish Country Escape

‘I’m really concerned,’ continued Elsa. ‘He’s becoming so despondent, Elle.’ She swallowed. ‘I think we need to try again with this Carlucci woman. Would I be able to pop round to yours this evening?’

I found myself nodding, even though Elsa was unable to see me. ‘Yes. That’s a good idea.’

I glanced down at my watch. ‘If you could drop by Pebble Brook around 7:30pm, that would give me enough time to get something to eat and freshen up.’

‘That’s perfect,’ she enthused into my ear. ‘I’ll see you then.’

My insides were squirming as she ended the call. Dexter needed our help and fast, but what we could do was anyone’s guess. All I knew was that we had to try something – even if he didn’t want my help anymore.

* * *

I finished tidying up and closed the shop before driving back along the rain-splashed country lanes.

I did my best to focus on the music crackling out of my car radio, but Dexter kept looming large in my mind.

I gripped my steering wheel and flicked my indicator to turn left at the junction. Through the wall of trees ahead of me, I caught a tantalising glimpse of the sharp gothic-style roof of Hawk West Hall.

My stomach flipped over and over. Dexter had made his decision to be there for Nadia. It was an honourable one, but from what Elsa had been saying, that adorable little girl and her mother came as a package.

Shelley had her sights set on becoming Lady of the Manor and it was Dexter who Elsa said she had always harboured true feelings for. Jay had been the consolation prize. Despite all this, I knew I had to help Dexter in any way I could. And the best way to do that was to make sure he got his writing ability back.

I trundled down the steep incline that was stained with licks of rain.

As I got closer to the house, my eyes were drawn first to the shafts of porch light that were throwing themselves out in front of my tyres. Then I noticed a car I didn’t recognise, parked beside my gran’s little Polo.

It was a vintage Jaguar XJS in metallic sapphire blue and looked like it had been plucked from the set of Mad Men.

I drew to a halt beside it and snatched my shoulder bag and laptop from the passenger seat. As I locked up my car, I peered in at its whipped-cream interior and walnut dashboard.

Gran must have a visitor. I didn’t know any of her book club or bridge tribe owned such a gorgeous car.

I stopped. Bloody hell! What if it wasn’t an innocent visit from a friend, but something sinister instead?

My imagination fired itself up and I tried to quash it.

Nevertheless, I found myself delving into my shoulder bag for my mobile. The front door was locked. I opened it and, once inside, reached for Dad’s old golfing brolly in the stand. I unhooked my shoulder bag and lowered it to the floor, together with my laptop.

From the sitting room, I could hear the faint rumble of Dean Martin crooning ‘Amore’. I pushed off my converse trainers and edged towards the sound.

The double doors were closed, but through the glass I could see Grandma sitting opposite Angus Ronald. Their hands were reaching across to one another and they were sharing a chaste kiss. They sprang apart like embarrassed teenagers when they saw me.

I concealed a smile, not wishing to embarrass them any further. ‘Hello.’

Angus jumped to his feet. ‘Good evening, Elle. Er… I was just visiting Clara here.’

I folded my arms and pinned my grandmother to her seat with a fake stare. ‘Oh, I can see that.’

So that was the reason behind all her earlier questions about what time I would be home! She had arranged a secret rendezvous with Angus.

Grandma moved to adjust the volume of Dean Martin on the CD player and narrowed her eyes at my suggestive wink.

I held my hands up in playful surrender. ‘Please don’t on my account, Gran. I’ll leave you two alone.’

They both began to protest, but I closed the sitting room doors behind me and vanished into the kitchen. Seconds later, my blushing grandmother appeared. ‘I should have told you, lovey, but it really isn’t a big deal.’

I dismissed her explanation. ‘It’s none of my business, Gran. If you want to bring strange men back to our house…’

She moved to protest, caught me grinning, and slapped my arm instead. ‘Stop teasing me, young lady.’