Page 19 of The Moon Sister
‘Right. What are you doing now?’
‘Looking for a job as an apprentice. There’s not much around, so I’ve been helping my dad on our croft.’
‘I’ve told him he should catch Cal tonight and ask him if there’s anything going here at Kinnaird,’ Fiona added pointedly.
‘Cal’s desperate for help,’ I butted in.
‘But Dad doesn’t have any money,’ Zara sighed.
‘I’d work for nothing, just for the experience,’ Lochie said and I felt his desperation.
‘Maybe not nothing, Lochie,’ his mother interjected.
‘Well, put in a word for me, won’t you, Zara?’
‘Course I will. Fancy grabbing me a drink?’ she asked him.
‘Blimey, he’s grown up!’ Zara whispered to me as Lochie nodded eagerly and wandered off towards the laden table at the back of the hall. ‘He used to be short and fat and covered in acne! I think I should go and give him a hand.’
‘You do that,’ I said to her departing back.
‘Teenagers, eh?’ Fiona rolled her eyes at me and we both chuckled.
Cal returned bearing yet more glasses of whisky, but I refused mine, feeling suddenly light-headed. I noticed Charlie and Ulrika glad-handing the guests and drawing ever closer to us. ‘Actually, I’m feeling a bit queasy. It must be the alcohol. I think I’m going to disappear off home.’
‘But, Tig, you have tae stay for the ceilidh. It’s the big moment of the year! And I know Charlie wants tae say hello.’
‘He’s got a lot of people to see and I’m sure there’ll be another chance for us to talk over Christmas. You stay here, Cal, and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you at home. Fiona, it was lovely to meet you.’
‘You too, Tiggy, and let me know when you want me to visit your cats. Cal’s got my number.’
‘I will, thanks, Fiona.’ I turned away before Cal could stop me then stepped outside to see a heavy fog had descended, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree on the lawn shrouded by the cobweb-like mist that swirled around it. Another flicker of light appeared a few metres from the tree and I realised someone close by was smoking a cigarette.
‘Merry Christmas,’ I said as I passed the figure.
‘And you. Er . . .’ The figure walked towards me and as he emerged from the fog I saw he was very tall, but in the darkness I couldn’t make out much else about him.
‘Nice party?’ he asked me, his voice betraying a hint of an accent that I couldn’t place.
‘Very nice, yes.’
‘Is Char— the Laird in attendance?’
‘Yes. He’s hosting the party with his wife. Haven’t you been in yet?’
‘No.’
‘Is that you, Tiggy?’ A torch beam shone in our direction. ‘I’ve been hunting high and low for you inside.’
Charlie Kinnaird walked towards me, then halted abruptly as he angled his torch on my companion.
The seconds ticked by before he said, ‘What areyoudoing here?’
‘I’ve come home to visit my old mum for Christmas. Thought I’d surprise her. No law against that, is there?’
Charlie opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. The antipathy emanating from him was palpable.
‘Well then,’ I said with all the false cheer I could muster, ‘I’ll say goodnight. Merry Christmas,’ I added as I turned tail and walked as quickly as I could towards the cottage. I could hear the two men talking . . . or in fact growling at each other as I opened the door. Charlie’s normally soft tones were edged with a harshness that spoke of . . .
