Page 7 of The Boathouse by the Loch (The Scottish Highlands #4)

Jake heard someone knocking on his bedroom door.

His eyes shot open. He looked at his phone, which was still in his hand, to check the time.

He’d only sat down on his bed and closed his eyes for a moment, but had then felt himself sinking back into the very soft, feathery pillows.

That had obviously been a mistake. He imagined the knock was Gayle, asking him to join her for dinner.

‘Just a sec.’

‘Mr Campbell-Ross?’ A man’s voice called back.

Jake raised his eyebrows. He pulled on his shoes, walked to the door and opened it.

‘You remember me? From the forest on the edge of town?’ The young guy smiled at Jake as he held out his hand. ‘Nick Addison.’

‘I remember,’ said Jake wearily, grasping the man’s hand.

He was in no mood to be in the company of some bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, life-is-oh-so-wonderful young man.

Although he knew Nick had been staying at the guesthouse the previous night when he was there too, before he had left for the airport, Jake had missed dinner in Gayle’s kitchen with the rest of the house guests, and he’d missed breakfast too.

It meant that he hadn’t actually seen Nick since bumping into him in the woods, when he’d suggested that Jake could stay at Lark Lodge.

Nick had been wearing a smart suit and a yellow hard hat then.

This evening, he was in jogging bottoms and a grey sweatshirt with the name of a university emblazoned on the front.

Jake looked past him, expecting Olive to be bounding up the stairs. ‘Where’s Olive?’

‘Oh, she’s shut in the kitchen with Gayle. Muddy paws. I couldn’t have her bounding up the stairs after me, leaving muddy paw prints on Gayle’s new carpet. And you know what my dog is like. She would have had muddy paws all over you too. We can’t have that, can we?’

‘Of course not,’ Jake said, although he wouldn’t have really minded seeing Nick’s shaggy sheepdog bounding up the stairs, greeting him as though she hadn’t seen him in an age, when it had only been a matter of hours.

‘Ooo … that looks nasty,’ Nick pointed.

Jake wasn’t surprised that Nick had spotted the large welt forming on his temple, not to mention the black eye. ‘I walked into a door.’

‘Of course you did.’ Nick grinned. He wasn’t fooled. It was obvious Jake had walked into a fist. ‘Gayle was out of ice; I suggested the frozen peas – any good?’

‘Kind of,’ said Jake, feeling upset that Gayle had shared his unfortunate comeuppance even though she didn’t know the details.

‘I expect you’ll see Olive at dinner time.’

Jake smiled at the thought.

‘Please tell her off if she begs at the table.’

I’ll do no such thing , Jake thought. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be able to resist feeding her scraps from the table. He kept that thought to himself .

‘On that note, Gayle sent me up to see if you’re wanting dinner here this evening.’ He leaned towards Jake, whispering, ‘I wouldn’t recommend it myself.’

‘Why?’ Jake wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation, so he was going to make every effort not to be congenial.

‘Oh, right. I didn’t realise you hadn’t dined here yet.’

Jake had eaten dinner at the guesthouse just the previous night, but Nick did not know that.

As he’d arrived back at the guesthouse late, after the other guests had dined, he’d had dinner with Gayle instead.

She’d waited for him to return and had then served up a ready meal from the freezer.

He already knew that home cooking wasn’t Gayle’s forte.

‘No ready meals this evening,’ Nick elaborated. ‘She’s cooking tonight.’ He pulled a grimace and then laughed infectiously.

Jake, despite his foul mood, felt the corners of his mouth twitch. He slowly shook his head at the young man, excited about everything and nothing – about life. Jake remembered what that felt like – just. He managed a smile. ‘So, I take it you’ve experienced the delights of her cooking before?’

‘Oh yes. And once is quite enough, I can tell you.’ He peered at Jake. ‘So, are you still up for it, or do you want to grab a takeaway with me?’

Jake shuddered at the thought of fast food. Besides, given the way he was feeling, he thought his brain would melt if he had to keep up with young Mr Addison. Jake declined. ‘I think I’ll risk it.’

‘Brave man,’ Nick replied. He turned to go, but almost as an afterthought, he glanced back at Jake and asked, ‘Was I right – about the guesthouse being nice and all?’

Jake nodded. ‘You just neglected to mention the food.’

‘Well, enjoy your meal.’ He gave Jake a knowing wink. ‘I’ll let Gayle know you’ll be joining them for dinner. Oh, and if you need anything, just knock,’ he said. ‘I’m right next door.’

Jake watched him enter the attic bedroom next door and emerge two seconds later wearing a coat. ‘I’m going to get that takeaway in Aviemore. Dinner is at seven, by the way.’

Jake watched him dash down the stairs. Seeing Nick reminded him that there was another reason Marcus had been anxious to return to London.

When they’d bumped into Nick in a clearing in the forest where the old lodge with rooms to rent had once stood, they’d discovered he was preparing the site so that building could start.

Bizarrely, Nick hadn’t even been sure what was being built.

But what had really piqued both Jake’s and Marcus’s interest was that apparently the Ross Corporation was building something ‘hush hush’ on the land.

But Nick Addison did not work for the Ross Corporation.

Perhaps they’d contracted out to another company, which would be most unusual.

Or perhaps it was just a local rumour that someone had started.

After all, it was Lawrence, the receptionist at Cedar Lodge, who had mentioned it.

But it was something neither of them could ignore.

Nothing went ahead without Marcus’s say-so.

If the Ross Corporation was building something without Marcus’s knowledge, it meant only one thing – Marcus was losing his grip.

Marcus was checking his side of things back in London, but Jake decided to go on his own fact-finding mission and see if he couldn’t wheedle more information out of young Nick Addison; see what he now knew about what was planned for the building site.

And this was his opportunity to do just that.

Jake decided that the information might be worth risking an evening meal consisting of fast food .

‘Wait!’ Jake rushed forward and looked over the banister.

He heard the front door click shut; Nick was already gone.

His throbbing head told him that dashing down the stairs after him was not an option.

Questioning Nick would have to wait. Jake turned into his room and closed the door.

His attention was drawn back to his phone.

He picked it up off the bed, debating whether to ring Faye back and apologise for his unreasonable behaviour on the phone.

But was it unreasonable? Had Faye and Marcus been talking about him behind his back?

He couldn’t decide. He sat for a long moment in the limbo land of indecision, staring at his phone.

Then he sighed and put the phone on the bedside cabinet.

Apologies led to explanations, and Jake decided he wasn’t in the mood for either.

He put his feet up on the bed and leaned into the plump feather pillow cushioning his back. He yawned and stretched his arms wide. He looked at his watch; he had half an hour until dinner. He was going to keep his eyes open this time.

From his vantage point on the bed, Jake took a good look around his new quarters.

The room was vastly different to the one downstairs; it was light, bright and airy, with white walls and modern furniture suggesting a minimalist approach.

Jake tried to recall the detail of the tiny rooms in the doll’s house, but he doubted that this room was based on Eleanor’s designs.

It was all conjecture anyway, whether Robyn had copied designs from the doll’s house – whether she had even seen it.

It could have been a coincidence. But thinking of Marty, Jake doubted that very much.

It made perfect sense; what other reason would a complete stranger pay for Marty to look after the gardens of his house?

She was feeling guilty for copying those intricate interiors that Eleanor had fashioned as a child when she’d ripped out the interior of her doll’s house and set about redesigning it.

He turned his head, catching a glimpse of the gardens and, off to the right, the roofline of his own house. It made him think about the business he had there the next day. It made him think about Marcus. ‘Maybe I should have got on that plane with him.’ Jake closed his eyes.

Marcus. The same questions were swirling around his head like a broken record.

What if Marcus had been right and there had been someone else with them on that mountain on that day?

What if someone else had in fact made the choice of who to dig out first, just as Marcus had been saying all along?

But if that were true, then who were they?

And why hadn’t they come forward and made their presence known?

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t had plenty of opportunity; the place was literally buzzing with news journalists citing a ‘freak’ avalanche, reporting in their terse journalistic prose, printing their sensationalist, attention-grabbing headlines: S ki tragedy strikes construction entrepreneur’s family – in the full knowledge that money and tragedy combined well to sell newspapers.

Didn’t everybody want their five minutes of fame?

Surely, if somebody else had been there, had dug them out from the snow, they’d have come forward to take the credit.

He could see the headline: Local hero saves the Rosses!

Why hadn’t they? Why hadn’t they made themselves known in anticipation of some financial reward?

The newspapers would have paid handsomely for their side of the story. It didn’t make any sense.

Jake felt himself drifting off in a sea of confusion.