Double Danger (16 page)

‘Yes, that was good of Patrick to do that for the children.’

Geordie spat in the fire. ‘There’s method to his madness. You mark my words.’

Mrs Peterson looked uncomfortable. ‘Best just mind your own business, Geordie.’

‘Best for who?’

Just then Patrick came into the kitchen and went over to the sink to wash his hands.

‘Dear Jessica, it’s so good to see you. Everybody misses you when you go away and nobody misses you more than me.’

Jessica smiled. ‘I was so glad to see the progress you’ve made on the road. What a difference it’ll be now that cars can get up and down.’ She sighed. ‘If only Brian could see how we’re getting on. He was so keen on the idea of Hilltop House being transformed into a successful hotel.’

‘Aye,’ Geordie said, ‘he’d be pleased about how you’re getting on with the hotel but no’ how you’re getting on wi’ him.’ He cocked a thumb in Patrick’s direction.

‘How do you mean?’ Jessica said worriedly.

Patrick laughed. ‘Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous. And how was your day, my lovely girl?’

Relaxing again, Jessica said, ‘I was just telling Geordie and Mrs Peterson how I got quite a lot of shopping done today but I was able to visit my old stamping ground at the Barras market as well. It was great seeing everyone again. But it made me realise that this is my home now. This is what Brian wanted and so this is where my heart is now.’

‘Aye,’ Geordie said. ‘Don’t you forget your good man.’

‘Geordie,’ his wife cried out in embarrassment. ‘Mind your place!’

‘Don’t worry, Geordie,’ Jessica said. ‘I’ll never forget Brian. He opened so many new and fascinating worlds for me. Saudi Arabia, for instance.You’ve no idea what a different world that is. Really fascinating. Then he introduced me to this world. Hilltop House is equally fascinating in its own way. Brian could see it would make a great investment as a hotel and I believe he was right again.’

Mrs Peterson got up.

‘We’ve had our dinner, Mrs Anderson, but there’s plenty left if you feel able for something.’

‘Just a cup of tea and a sandwich, please. Then I’ll have an early night. There’s lots to do tomorrow again.’

‘I knew you wouldn’t manage all the linen in one go.’

‘It’s a pity we couldn’t use what was already on all the beds but it was pretty tatty, wasn’t it?’

‘I was ashamed of it long ago but Mr Nairn wouldn’t lay out any money on that sort of thing. He used to say that most of the shooters would be so drunk by night time they wouldn’t know what was on the beds. He was right enough because sometimes there weren’t enough sheets to go around but nobody noticed. They just slept between the blankets.’

‘Well, nobody will need to do that now. But as you say, I didn’t manage it all in one go. Tomorrow I’ll fetch the rest and the towels and table covers. Will you be all right with the children again?’

‘Yes, of course. They’re no bother.’

Patrick came over and sat beside Jessica.

‘I’d love to show you what improvements we’ve managed today. Could you indulge me – give me half an hour of your time? It makes all the hard work so worthwhile. It is hard work, you know, dear Jessica. I give so much of my time from early morning till late every night.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Jessica said guiltily. ‘I’ll come right now, Patrick. I do appreciate all the extra hours you put in.’

She got up and hastily pulled on her jacket. Patrick indicated for her to precede him through the door and so she didn’t see the triumphant look he flashed at Geordie and Mrs Peterson before he followed her outside.

It was a still, warm evening. No trees rustled or flowers nodded. Patrick put an arm around her waist.

‘I’m so glad you said your heart was here now, Jessica. Our hearts are here together.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

Jessica smiled. ‘Where do you get all your poetry? You don’t just make it up, do you?’

Patrick rolled his eyes. ‘I’ve been found out. You’ve seen through me. You’re right. It’s just that I’m fond of poetry and I’ve got a good memory for it.’

‘I’m glad. It’s always lovely to listen to. And I feel in a way there’s a kind of poetry in your gardening too. It’s certainly beautifully creative.’

‘Thank you, Jessica. Certainly a lot of imagination is needed in gardening. Roses, for instance, are part of the summer scene and they’re beautiful but can have even more impact when used with imagination.’

‘Everything is so colourful – the wallflowers and, what are these?’

‘Pelargoniums, popularly known as bedding geraniums. I like mixtures like those over there – wallflowers and forget-me-nots. And marigolds are always cheerful. As you can see, I also like plenty of clematis.’

All the time, as they walked along, he kept his arm around her waist. She felt she ought to untangle herself, push him away, but the warmth of him was so pleasant. What worried her was the stirring of sexual feelings she was beginning to experience. A throbbing inside her was giving her secret guilty pleasure.

There turned out to be much more shopping that Jessica had to do. Then there was the job of helping Mrs Peterson make up all the beds and put new cushion covers on a huge number of cushions. The whole place also needed to be vacuumed and thoroughly cleaned. As a result of all that work and more, Jessica hardly ever saw the children. Geordie was kept busy washing innumerable windows. The stairs were difficult but Mrs Peterson and Jessica managed between them.

At night, Jessica was so tired that she was glad to go to bed early. She sometimes just saw the children as Mrs Peterson was putting them to bed. Occasionally she was home in time to have the evening meal with them. She noticed that they were very quiet. There was no chatter now, there were no questions asked and there was no news delivered of what they had been doing all day.

Jessica took it for granted that they were just too exhausted. She was too exhausted too, but usually she was persuaded to go out for a walk in the grounds with Patrick, so that he could show her how the work was progressing. She was also persuaded because he spoke so interestingly about landscape gardeners of the past, like ‘Capability’ Brown. Capability Brown had apparently set up on his own, advising on estates across the country. Then he would brilliantly offer a whole package – the technical survey and detailed plans, subcontracting and supervising the actual work, which could amount to thousands of man-hours of digging, building and planting. His fees were enormous because his clients were the top aristocracy. He was also gardener to George III at Hampton Court and imposed his will on the King by refusing for once to tear down the old avenues.

Someone once said to him, ‘I very earnestly wish I may die before you do, Mr Brown.’

‘Why so?’ asked Brown.

‘Because I would like to see Heaven before you have improved it.’

Jessica was fascinated by all of Patrick’s stories. So much so that she forgot to push him gently away when he put his arm around her waist and held her close.

‘Wisteria sisensis,’ he was saying now. ‘Such a beautiful Chinese plant and it has such a divine smell, don’t you think?’

She did, and closed her eyes, savouring the heady scent of the beautiful purple plant. It was then that she felt Patrick’s lips caress hers. Hastily she drew back from him and pushed his body away from hers.

‘Patrick, please. I can’t and won’t come out with you again if you distress me like this.’

‘Oh my love, I would never want to distress you in any way, ever. I thought our feelings were mutual. Please, please, forgive me.’

Jessica took deep breaths.

‘I admire you and am fond of you as a friend, Patrick, but I’m still grieving for my husband. You must remember that.’

‘In future, I’ll try very hard not to express my deep and sincere love for you, Jessica.’

‘Oh Patrick, you mustn’t talk in terms of love.’

‘Surely, at least, you won’t deny me the pleasure of reciting my poetry.You said that you enjoy it. He smiled tenderly down at her.

‘Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.’

She could have wept. She needed someone to love her and Patrick was so loving and tender and sincere. But her need made her feel guilty. It was a sexual need Patrick aroused in her, not love. Her heart and mind still centred on Brian, especially when every minute of every day was filled with her efforts to fulfil his dream. He dreamed of having Hilltop House made into a successful hotel and she was going to do that for him.

‘I want to go back to the house,’ she told Patrick. ‘Now.’

‘Of course, my dearest beautiful Jessica. I’ll take you back to the house now.’ He left her outside the kitchen door, saying that he had to check on something before coming in.

Mrs Peterson had put the children to bed.

‘I read them a couple of stories,’ she said, ‘and they settled down no problem.’

‘You look upset,’ Geordie growled. ‘What’s that Irish bastard been up to?’

‘I’m all right, Geordie. But I appreciate your concern. By the way, when I was at the solicitor’s, I told him to arrange for you and Mrs Peterson to be given a considerable raise in both your salaries.’

Mrs Peterson said, ‘That’s very good of you, Mrs Anderson, and it’s much appreciated.’

‘Aye,’ Geordie agreed. ‘That old skinflint Nairn would never have thought of that. You’re a good wee lassie. Hard-working as well.’

‘Thank you, Geordie. I’ll have to go back to Glasgow tomorrow again to see him and check some other things that have occurred to me, as well as to do the rest of the shopping. You made me a list, didn’t you, Mrs Peterson?’

‘Yes, I have it here.’

They had a cup of tea and watched the news on television before Jessica decided to go upstairs to bed.

‘Breakfast early again?’ Mrs Peterson asked.

‘Yes, thanks. See you then. Goodnight to you both.’

‘Goodnight,’ they replied and she left the kitchen, went through the dark, animal-lined hallway and climbed the stairs. Her mind and body were in turmoil. Seeing so much of Patrick in the evenings was not doing her peace of mind or body any good. She must try to be strong and refuse to go walking with him. At the same time, she felt bereft at the thought. Being with him and listening to his unusual conversation was so interesting. No, more than that – it was fascinating. She had never in her life heard anyone speak as he did. Certainly no one had ever spoken to her in such poetic terms. But she mustn’t forget what all his soft talk could lead to.

Next day she collected her trolley and walked down to the village. There, to her surprise, she bumped into Douglas Brown.

‘I thought you’d be away up north on holiday.’

‘No. Perhaps nearer the end of the school holidays, I may go up for a few days, but just now I want to keep the karate class going. They enjoy it so much. By the way, I see the road’s OK now but you haven’t got the phone in yet.’

‘No, but any day now, we hope.’

‘I’m sorry the twins haven’t managed recently. I’ll drive up and collect them, if that’s OK.’

‘Wonderful. I’ve been away so much and have been so busy with hotel business, I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting them.’

‘Fine. I’ll collect them tomorrow then. Say about half past ten?’

‘Yes, that’ll be great.’

When she returned to Hilltop House, the twins were sitting at the table with Patrick and Geordie, and Mrs Peterson was dishing up the dinner.

‘Just in time,’ Mrs Peterson said as she dished up a bowl of home-made soup to Jessica.

‘You’ll never guess what,’ Jessica told the children. ‘Mr Brown is calling for you tomorrow after breakfast and driving you back down to the school to the karate class.’

The children’s faces lit up slightly but they didn’t show the wild delight she’d expected as a response.

‘Is that OK?’

They both nodded.

Jessica wondered at the restraint they had been showing recently. Was it boredom or what? No doubt the action in the karate club would cheer them up and liven them up again. She sincerely hoped so anyway.

Later, when she’d gone upstairs with Mrs Peterson to put some cushion covers on and Geordie had gone out to fill a pail of coal for the fire, Patrick said to the twins,

‘Now you two, remember – if you say anything to Mr Brown,
I’ll know
, and I’ll hack your mother to pieces. I’ll cut her arms and legs off, and her head, and I’ll show them to you as soon as you get back.’

The children’s faces turned a sickly shade of grey and their eyes stretched enormous.

‘Do you hear me?’

They both nodded.

‘Right, now get up to bed out of my sight. But don’t for one minute forget what I’ve said. Your mother’s life depends on you keeping your mouths shut.’

Trembling, the children rose and, clinging to each other, they did as they were told.

The twelve pupils lined up in the schoolroom. All twelve were wearing their loose white karate suits. Mr Brown had previously given them a talk about karate and a demonstration and now they were about to begin their practice.

The work tables and chairs had been pushed to the back and the dozen young pupils lined up ready to begin.

Jessica waited for a few minutes at the outside door to watch the session. She saw Mr Brown pull the soft white jacket of his karategi over his thickly muscled shoulders, his body testament to years of working out.

Quickly he wrapped his tattered black belt around his waist and gave a brief bow before stepping into the gym, or as it was now temporarily designated, the Dojo.

The children were rushing around laughing and shouting, climbing on the wall bars and generally behaving as groups of children do.