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He sat back, thinking about this information, which was startling, but also obvious.Islay. He and Islay were already acquainted, in a strange way. He was only where he currently was because his ex-wife’s family had a croft on this place they’d exiled her to during Hogmanay celebrations at Balmoral.
If they could own a Scottish island, then he could.
This had proved to be a very fortuitous cake raid indeed.
* * *
Chapter Five
‘Shall we order in?’ Tim Watson pushed his glasses up, a nervous gesture that told Aleksey he was more anxious than hungry. ‘Chinese?’
‘You do not have to stay. Ben is worrying about me; I understand this. But as you see, I am going to sit by the fire and read my book. I can come to no harm.’
‘Oh, no. I volunteered actually. When Ben told me he was going with Michael.’
Huh. ‘Why?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. You just seemed a bit…not yourself the other day. Michael and I both noticed it.’
‘Not myself?’ This would be good. He had no idea who the fuck he was most of the time. He’d appreciate having some suggestions.
‘Well, one could argue—’
‘Youcould, you mean. Be specific, doctor, you know how I love your helpful advice on all subjects.’
Tim picked up his wine then put it down, then topped them both up. He was sharingonebottle with Ben’s best friend; let him do that fucking maths when he got home.
‘You are going through the very definition of an existential crisis.’
He wished he hadn’t asked.
‘You’ve turned fifty, a challenging milestone for any man. You’ve been seriously injured, and for the first time it seems you’re finding it hard to heal. And, well, there’s the unresolved Nate Situation, isn’t there?’ He gulped his drink audibly. ‘And the excessive drinking…’
‘Order what you like. I’m not hungry.’
‘That’s what you do to Ben. Change the subject whenever you don’t like the turn of the conversation.’
‘None of this affects you, doctor. It is not your business.’
‘Yes. It is. It absolutely is.’
‘Why? Because I own everything you enjoy? Because I pay for everything you have?’
Tim stood up from the end of the sofa he’d obviously been reluctantly sharing and went to stand in front of the burner. ‘You’re a mean man, aren’t you? At heart. You’re very cruel.’
Aleksey frowned down into his wine, listening to the crackling of the wood. He sniffed. He stared at the sleeping dogs for a while then replied softly, ‘No. I’m not. I don’t think I ever was, but it used to please me for people to think that. It was…necessary.’ He didn’t like this confession, as he suspected now he would find it hard to defend if anyone challenged him on it. He huffed. ‘Maybe you are right.’
Tim sat back down. ‘No, I’m sorry. I honestly don’t think that. I can’t really, can I? I see you through Ben’s eyes most of the time.’
‘That might make for a more cheerful evening then.’
Tim snorted, wine going down the wrong way. ‘All I was trying to say is that whatever you’re feeling you damn well have a right to be feeling. Frustrated, angry, trapped, bored, scared, purposeless… Stop fighting everything. Just give yourself permission to hurt.’
Aleksey preferred to allow himself permission tonothurt. ‘Do you miss working at the university?’
‘What? Err, sometimes. I miss the—’
‘Drugs?’
