Page 14 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

I opened and closed my mouth again like an idiot.

‘There’s no pressure,’ insisted Stephanie Styles. ‘How about you just come and take a look and see what you think?’

I had only just applied for that part-time hotel receptionist job. I wasn’t swamped with offers. And whatever this job was that the Styleses were talking about, was also based locally. Thoughts of Mum and being around for her tripped through my mind.

I was still clutching Max Styles’s business card. I gazed down at it. It was a navy-blue and gold affair; Max Styles, Property Developer ran across it, with his email, mobile and business numbers underneath.

‘As you can see, I’ve changed careers,’ he pointed out with a wry smile.

‘In other words, my husband retired from copywriting and then got bored stupid,’ added Stephanie with a grin.

I laughed and examined the business card again.

‘And he roped me into his new vision too.’

‘What did you do before?’ I asked her.

‘My parents owned their own chain of jewellery businesses. I was involved in that for a long time, but I always wanted to do something on my own, something more challenging. And believe me, this is it!’

My curiosity was piqued, not to mention that I was flattered by their interest and the research they had undertaken about me. What harm would it do? I wasn’t committing to anything. I could just take a look at this mysterious project of theirs. And it wasn’t as if I had another offer lined up already.

My heart rattled against my ribs. ‘All right,’ I found myself saying. ‘Thank you. I’ll come up and take a look.’

Stephanie Styles beamed with delight. ‘Wonderful!’

‘One of my work colleagues will be here soon and can take care of things on her own for a little while.’

Max nodded his approval. ‘That suits us too. See you just after one o’clock then, Ms Grant.’

‘Please. It’s Lottie,’ I called after them, but they were already disappearing out of the shop door, all flapping coats and expensive tailoring.

* * *

‘So, what is this all about?’ called Mum out of her passenger side car window.

I jumped in beside her.

‘Why do you want a lift up to Rowan Moore House? What’s going on, Lottie?’

I fastened my seat belt and we set off. ‘Would you believe I’ve been offered a job?’

Mum was stunned. ‘What, up there? Doing what, though? I don’t understand. It’s an empty house.’

‘It was,’ I explained. ‘But apparently, this couple – the Styleses – have bought it and they’re starting some sort of business up there and they’ve asked me to go and take a look.’

‘What sort of business?’

‘I have no idea, Mum. That’s why I’m going up there to see.’

She indicated past the roundabout and took us along past the dry-stone walls. ‘Well, that sounds very promising, sweetheart. Dear me! You haven’t wasted any time.’

The sun was trying to push its way through the clouds, now that the rain had faded away. It shimmered against the damp, bare tree branches. ‘It does all sound rather mysterious,’ said Mum, concentrating on the road.

I tugged down the passenger side mirror and pulled back my loose waves into a ponytail. ‘I know. I keep wondering what it is they’re planning.’

Mum’s cat-like green eyes blinked as she took us past the shining mirror of Loch Strathe on the left-hand side. ‘I didn’t even know people had moved into Rowan Moore House, although I’d heard the odd rumour that the property had been screened off some months back.’

I finished tightening the elastic band around my high ponytail. ‘Neither did I and I’m sure if the local gossips had known what was going on, they would have been telling everybody by now as well.’