Page 98 of The Moon Sister
‘That’s the point – I just don’t know. A bit of both, maybe.’
‘Well, Ally might have mentioned that I’m not Zed Eszu’s biggest fan, so I’m not sure I can give you an unbiased answer. All I can say is that everything you’ve just told me that Zed has done, he did to me too. It was as if he’d stop at nothing until he got me – like he was hunting me down. And then when hedidget me, when I stupidly surrendered, he lost interest soon afterwards.’
‘Oh Maia, I’m so sorry. This must be really painful for you to talk about.’
‘I’m over it now, but at the time . . . Anyway, it might be different for you. Zed might have changed – matured or something – but actually, now I think back on our early days together, I’m pretty sure he mentioned there could be a translation job for me at his father’s company when I finished uni. As it turned out, he hardly said goodbye when he left the Sorbonne a year before I did.’
‘Oh God,’ I said. ‘Ally said that Zed might have a thing for the D’Aplièse sisters. Maybe it’s true.’
‘Well, it’s certainly odd that it was his father’s boat which Ally saw moored next to theTitanin Greece last summer. And then his son appears up in the remote Scottish Highlands, where you just happen to be working.’
‘I’m sure that part is just shitty coincidence, Maia,’ I said. ‘He seemed very surprised when he met me and put two and two together.’
‘Tiggy, do you like Zed? I mean, inthatway?’
‘No. Definitely not. I find him –’ I lowered my voice – ‘seriously weird. He comes across as really arrogant, although I can’t help feeling sorry for him. Remember, he lost his father too at about the same time we lost Pa.’
‘And I’m sure he’s used that to bond with you, Tiggy. We all know what a soft heart you have. You’d give the Devil the benefit of the doubt, and I wouldn’t mind betting Zed picked up on that too.’ I heard the edge of bitterness in Maia’s voice. ‘Sorry, Tiggy, ignore me. The job sounds amazing, and I understand why you’d love to take it. And as far as Zed being your boss is concerned, on a professional level, I can’t comment. On a personal level, please watch out. He’ll do anything to get what he wants, and from the sound of things right now, that’s you.’
‘Maia, the bottom line is this: do you think he’s a good person at heart?’
There was an agonising pause before Maia replied.
‘No, Tiggy, I’m afraid I don’t.’
‘Okay. Thanks for being honest and I’m so sorry if this has brought back bad memories.’
‘Oh, it’s fine, Tiggy, really. It was a long time ago. I just . . . don’t want you to get hurt the way that I did. Besides, you’re the one with the intuition, so it must be your decision.’
‘Yes. Anyway, I’d better sign off now as I’m using the boss’s landline and our . . . mutual friend wants to call New York.’
‘Oh, okay. It’s been lovely to speak to you. Keep in touch, won’t you?’
I put the receiver down, hoping I hadn’t upset her. I could tell that Zed was not just someone who had passed briefly through Maia’s life, but someone who had hurt her deeply.
Then, on a whim, and while Zed was elsewhere and the computer free, I went online to look at jobs abroad for zoologists. If I wasn’t taking the job with Zed, it may be – what with the uncertain situation at Kinnaird – that I needed to find something else.
A number of what Google thought were suitable positions appeared on the screen and I scrolled through them.
‘Assistant professor in Animal Immunology and Landscape Ecology, South Georgia, USA.’
Not appealing, I thought, even if I had the experience to become an assistant professor, which I didn’t.
‘Zoological Field Assistant, specialising in seals and seabirds, Antarctica.’
Not on your life, Tiggy, as if Scotland isn’t cold enough . . .
‘Conservation officer required on game reserve in Malawi.’
Now that sounds interesting. . .
I shot off a quick email and attached my CV, only realising after I’d pressed ‘send’ that I hadn’t changed my address on the CV from Switzerland to Kinnaird, but knowing Ma would immediately send any correspondence on to me in Scotland.
*
Having given myself at least one positive alternative for the future, I woke early the next morning feeling calmer. After feeding the cats, I paused briefly halfway up the slope from the enclosure, and listened for sounds in the glen. Not even the whisper of a breeze stirred the complete stillness. I’d learnt that the eerie silence often came before a snowstorm. The cats obviously agreed, for none of them had come out to see me. As I trudged the rest of the way to the Lodge to collect Chilly’s food, I contemplated what I would tell Zed over today’s dreaded lunch. Or in fact, how I would frame the ‘no’ that I had to give him.
‘Me in New York?! Never,’ I said to myself. ‘You’d hate every moment of it, Tiggy, being in some tiny glass box in the sky. Manhattan’s probably the same size as the Kinnaird estate,’ I added, ‘but chock-a-block with buildings.’
