Page 116 of A Scottish Country Escape

‘I think that would be best,’ admitted Cameron. ‘I have a feeling this conversation isn’t going to be easy.’

Chapter Seventy-Two

Cameron insisted on driving the three of us to Linda Carlucci’s cottage.

It had been such a covert operation that I felt exhausted and it was only half past nine in the morning.

Cameron had arrived at Pebble Brook just before 9 a.m., as had Elsa, who had driven down and parked by the house.

I had decided not to tell Gran what was happening for now. I didn’t want to upset her in light of her history with Linda’s brother, Lorenzo, and I also worried she might tell Angus. There would be plenty of time for that afterwards.

So I had hovered by the front door of Pebble Brook after getting up earlier to breakfast and shower, before waiting for the arrival of Cameron and Elsa.

Elsa was sitting in the back of Cameron’s white Vauxhall Grand Land and I was occupying the passenger seat. He parked a little way down the narrow drive so we were shielded by some of the trees.

The autumn sky was a rinsed-out blue this morning, complementing the myriad beige and gold leaves. A trail of smoke danced out of Linda Carlucci’s chimney pots.

Our plan was to arrive early so we stood a better chance of her being at home.

The interior of Cameron’s car was cosy and warm, with its squashy black interior and heated seats. We all exchanged nervous glances before Cameron set the car in motion again and parked a few feet away from the cottage.

Silently closing our respective car doors, the three of us walked together up to the red front door.

Cameron’s collar-length greying hair and craggy features were set off by the ankle-length black coat he was wearing.

I hitched up the collar of my navy Burberry jacket and wished I could bury myself so deep in its quilted lining that I could disappear.

What if this is the worst idea I’ve ever had? What if Linda refuses to talk to Cameron? Or decides to attack him with a pitchfork? Maybe only I’ve succeeded in making matters worse, rather than better?

We reached Linda’s front door and Cameron fell back into position behind me. I heard Brando’s now familiar bark.

There was a rattling of the door chain and Linda Carlucci emerged, her dyed-black hair tied back at the nape of her neck in a low ponytail. She was wearing a pair of loose-fitting trousers and tunic in smoky grey.

Her woodland-green eyes hardened at the sight of us. ‘Oh, not again. I really don’t know what else to say to you, Ms Cassidy—’ Her brittle voice vanished at the sight of Cameron, who stepped up beside me. She scanned his face. A few seconds dragged. ‘Oh god.’

Linda’s age-spotted hands reached for the door. She steadied herself, paling. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, bringing him here?’

Wild-eyed, she turned on Elsa and me. ‘Whose idea was this? Don’t you think I’ve been through enough?’

Cameron tried to regroup but his expression remained stricken. ‘Linda. You have no idea of the guilt I’ve been carrying around these years.’

Her voice hardened. ‘It’s no more than you deserve! You killed Ross and then that corrupt father of yours covered it all up.’

Cameron’s shame was evident. ‘My father should never have done what he did. I never asked him to. I’m so sorry. But you need to know the truth about what happened.’

‘I know the truth,’ she wailed, scooping up Brando and cradling him in her shaking arms. ‘You took Ross way from me. You ran him off the road. You took everything away from me!’

Cameron shot her a desperate look. ‘I should never have arranged that race, Linda, but I swear I didn’t drive him off the road.’

Linda Carlucci began to close the door, but Cameron rammed his foot in the way and it stayed open. I reached out my arm, trying to calm him, but he was determined.

Cameron’s desperate silver eyes clouded with remorse. ‘It was me who should have died that night,’ he wailed into the countryside air. ‘Ross died saving me.’

Chapter Seventy-Three

Linda’s rich green eyes glistened. ‘What are you talking about? You killed him!’

Cameron’s drawn mouth tightened. ‘I didn’t. I swear.’ He took a gulp of cold air. ‘I should never have suggested that race to begin with. You have no idea how much I regret it.’