Page 26 of The Boathouse by the Loch (The Scottish Highlands #4)

The flat was located in a large complex of purpose-built flats on a busy main road.

Jake had to google the address. The complex was a lot bigger than Jake had thought – huge, with two different entrances, and several concrete squares with small play areas.

At first he’d been thrown by the sheer scale of it.

Fortunately, the taxi driver had said that he had a friend who had lived there decades earlier, so he knew which entrance to aim for.

The driver had explained that the place was not like a modern apartment building with one foyer and lifts up to the different floors.

There were five floors. The complex had no lifts, but rather lots of entrances to stairwells that rose to the flats in that part of the block.

The trick was to know which part of the block the flat number was located in.

Unlike in the Ross apartment building, there was no concierge and no reception desk, and to Jake’s relief, there wasn’t even a buzzer system – he could just walk right in off the street, through the gates.

He stood in a large inner concrete courtyard and thought that if the taxi driver hadn’t been able to direct him to the right entrance, he could have been walking around for hours .

He walked around the courtyard and found the entrance to the hallway and stairwell for the flat.

‘Damn!’ he said. He recalled the taxi driver saying he hadn’t been there for years.

Things had obviously changed. The driver had said that Jake could just walk into one of the hallways.

There would be two flats located on the ground floor, but if he was visiting someone on a higher floor, then he just took the concrete stairwell.

There were outer doors on the entrances to the hallways.

Whilst he’d been able to walk into the courtyard from the street, he couldn’t get near the flats uninvited and unannounced, which was exactly what he had intended to do.

Jake looked around at the red-brick building, at the upper floors with small concrete balconies.

It had been built back in the fifties by the Catholic church – most of the residents back then had been Catholic.

The huge complex had later become council flats.

He knew that most, if not all of them, would now be privately owned and worth around half a million.

Jake shuddered. It wasn’t the sort of place he’d want to live.

He understood its appeal. It was close to the shops in Kilburn High Road, and he could imagine it was a nice, friendly community in which to live, and so close to central London.

The taxi ride from the Ross Corporation building had been very short.

They’d passed a park on the way that the taxi driver remembered his friend had fondly called The Rec.

But coming from Aviemore, with its lochs, mountains and wide-open spaces, and his beautiful garden at The Lake House, the contrast with where he was standing couldn’t have been any more stark.

In fact, Jake had noticed something when he’d returned to London from Scotland – something that, for some reason, he hadn’t really noticed before; how much he hated the crowds, the noise, the hustle and bustle of city life, and the traffic.

When he’d stepped through the gates of the complex, he’d found that the inner courtyard was so much quieter away from the main street outside, full of traffic. He realised how tired of it he was.

He stood there, appreciating the surprising oasis of quiet and calm, away from the noise, and the traffic, and the people outside those gates.

He longed to return to Scotland. He’d never felt that longing before, not after any of the trips he’d made to The Lake House for Christmas.

Perhaps it was that he’d been too busy wrapped up in his life working for the Ross Corporation to even notice that he wasn’t happy, to even care, because supposedly he had it all.

And he’d had nothing to complain about. Although there had been times he’d questioned whether it was truly the life for him.

But I’m busy now, with my teaching job, so why am I feeling this way, this unhappy?

What has changed? What Jake realised, staring at the door he couldn’t get through, was that without Faye and Natty, he just couldn’t stay in London.

They made it palatable. They made his life here worthwhile, complete – almost.

If only he could take them with him back to Scotland. Then his life would be just about perfect.

Jake shook his head. What a stupid thought.

They weren’t a couple, a family. And besides, he knew that would never, ever happen, even if he and Faye were together; he remembered the reason Faye had split up with Natty’s father, Yousaf.

He had wanted her to return with him to live in his home country.

Granted, Scotland wasn’t as far away as Oman, where Yousaf’s family were from, but it would still mean taking Natty out of her school, and Faye changing her job, and leaving the little rental they called home.

Jake glared at the door. He didn’t have time to stand around imagining a life that would never be.

Thinking of Natty’s father reminded Jake why it was imperative he got through the door into the block.

‘Hey, there. Are you okay?’

Jake froze and looked about him, wondering where the voice had come from.

‘I’m up here.’

Jake looked up, scanning the concrete balconies. Some had little washing lines with clothes hanging out to dry. There were others with planting boxes full of summer flowers.

Shielding his face from the late afternoon sunshine, he spied a young man sitting at a folding table on a balcony two floors up.

Jake waved.

The young man stood up. ‘I was just wondering if you’re locked out?’

‘Yes, er … I am.’

‘Oh dear. Hold on, I’ll buzz you up.’

Jake smiled to himself. What a stroke of good luck. He hadn’t wanted to randomly buzz one of the flats because he’d imagined that unless he was known to the flat owner, they’d be suspicious and wouldn’t buzz him in.

The young man appeared a second later without buzzing him in. He leaned over the railing. ‘What flat number did you say you lived in?’

Jake frowned. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

‘Sorry to be a pain, but I don’t recognise you.’

Jake was getting irritated. He didn’t have time for this. Since when did everyone know everyone else in a block of flats? He imagined most people nowadays barely knew their next-door neighbours .

As if he’d read Jake’s mind, the man said, ‘We’re a friendly lot. Even when you don’t know everyone, you see the same faces in and out of your block.’

Jake realised he’d been caught out. ‘Well, the thing is, I don’t actually live here. I’ve come to see a friend.’

‘Oh, all right. Who’s the friend?’

Jake sighed. He wasn’t exactly a friend, but he did know him.

Well that wasn’t exactly true. He knew of him.

Jake gave him the name, along with the flat number, and what this so-called friend used to do for living.

He stopped short of giving a description.

He couldn’t do that. He’d never met the man in person, although he knew his age, or thereabouts.

‘Ah, yeah. I know him.’

Jake looked at the young man and prayed he wasn’t going to ask him something about the occupant of the flat that would raise suspicions. He just hoped he was in. It was something that had only occurred to him now he was here. Once again, Jake realised he wasn’t really thinking straight.

‘Come for the game?’

Jake almost put his foot in it when he’d nearly said, what game? ‘Oh, yeah – sure.’ he said. ‘Looking forward to it.’ He made a show of looking at his watch. ‘The thing is I’m late, so I’d really appreciate if you could—’

‘Why don’t you just ring the buzzer. He’ll let you in.’

Oh, no he won’t , thought Jake. Not with this. He thought of the case containing the gun in his coat pocket.

He smiled tightly. He quickly thought of an excuse. Lying through his teeth, he said, ‘Look, I don’t want to interrupt the game.’

‘But you’ll interrupt it when you bang on the door. ’

Jake rubbed his forehead. This was getting really tiresome. ‘Look, he’s not expecting me to turn up, so I wanted it to be a surprise.’ Jake winced. That was, in actual fact, completely true.

The young man grinned. ‘One sec. I’ll buzz you in.’

Jake was by now so convinced the young man wouldn’t let him in that he stood rooted to the spot for a moment before launching himself at the door just before the buzzer died.

He headed up the stairs and stood outside apartment number six on the third floor.

He had the impulse just to ram the door in, but resisted; he didn’t want some interfering neighbour calling the police before he made his move.

Jake felt in his pocket for the gun and then knocked once on the apartment door.

The door opened.

‘I’ve got more money than I know what to do with in my bank account,’ said Jake, holding up a wad of cash, as much as he’d been able to withdraw from several different bank accounts, using an ATM which he’d spotted on the way in the taxi.

‘And there’s plenty more where that came from.

’ He could get more, a lot more, but that would mean a visit to his bank in person.

He hadn’t had time for that. But if emptying his bank accounts wasn’t enough to get Natty back, then he’d just have to go to William Ross.

But he didn’t want to play that trump card just yet.

Jake glared at the old man. He was smaller and thinner than Jake had expected, but Jake wasn’t fooled by his timid exterior. He remained on his guard because if Aubrey had taught him anything, it was that appearances can be deceptive.

‘Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?’

The old man stared at him blankly. For Jake, this was a good sign, a sign that his presence or the money or both had caught him by surprise. Jake was now ahead of the game .

‘Who is it, Virgil?’ another man’s voice came from inside the room.