you think you can just strut in here and throw orders around, you’ve got another—’
‘That’s really not why I’m here,’ Kate cut in. And then she noted what he’d said. ‘I’m sorry, you’ve only been here five minutes? What do you mean?’
‘Three months,’ James said. ‘I’ve been back for all of three months. I wasn’t going to. I came back after Dad died, got things sorted for Mum. But I had a job. A life. One I enjoyed, so I went back to that. And then Mum issued her call to arms and like a dutiful son I said I’d come and help. So I apologise for my hostility towards you yesterday, but I want you to see it from my point of view. I wasn’t expecting … well … you know.’ He gestured towards Kate and then sipped the coffee she handed him. But he clearly wasn’t done and she watched him take a deep breath. ‘In truth, I wasn’t expecting to be told I was shit quite so soon, especially when I don’t really want to be here.’
Kate nodded slowly. He’d been here for three months. Which meant that when she’d been hired a month ago and had worked her notice period, he’d only been here for two months when Liz had interviewed her. It sounded cut-throat but perhaps Liz just knew things needed to move at a quicker pace than they had been then.
‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said. ‘I don’t know what to say. Only, I think I’ll be good at this and—’
James’s eyebrows lifted. ‘You think you’ll be good at this?’ he repeated. ‘What the hell does that mean? Have you not done this before?’
Kate was spared answering as Liz arrived. ‘Ah, good morning, all. Kate, shall we have the tour after breakfast and then we can talk plans as we go?’
Across the kitchen table, James’s eyes narrowed.
They moved through the house, Kate clutching her notebook and pen, writing things down as Liz and she discussed plans. Kate tried to keep the horrified expression from her face as they looked in some of the other guest bedrooms that were even chintzier than her own. Most had en suites, which would be a blessing when it came to offering bed and breakfast packages. No guest wants to traipse down a hall in the middle of the night in search of a loo. It doesn’t exactly scream luxury and so Kate offered up a silent word of thanks to the McLay ancestors who’d seen fit to install additional bathrooms.
The polished ballroom and well-planted orangery were in good condition, although a pane of glass had smashed on the far side of the orangery and had been boarded up. Kate resisted asking how long it had been like that. A while, she suspected, and made a note in her pad to get it fixed. This was really a job James and Liz should have already tackled, but as she moved further through the house with Liz it was clear they were at sixes and sevens and Kate would have to take on a lot of everyday tasks if they were going to get Invermoray suitable for visiting journalists and paying guests.
By the time they finished the tour of the house, Kate’s notebook was full of jobs that needed doing, the first of which was to organise the official paperwork to change Invermoray House from a residential property to a bed and breakfast.
‘You can give that job to James,’ Liz said. ‘He’s good at that sort of thing.’
Curiosity got the better of Kate. ‘What did James do? Before he came back home?’
‘Oh, something in computers,’ Liz said dismissively. ‘He’s been in Hong Kong living the high life and, to be honest, I never quite understood what it was he did, tapping away all day on a keyboard. All sounded very dull, but like most dull things, it made him an awful lot of money.’
Did Liz have another reason for calling James back home other than helping run the house? Kate would try and work that one out later.
‘Shall we look at the gardens?’ Liz suggested.
Kate nodded. She had seen them, briefly, from her window last night and was rather excited to see them in daylight. As she walked, her mind whirred. Where was all this money James had made then? And why wasn’t he ploughing it into the estate? Perhaps it was wrong of her to assume he would spend his hard-earned cash on his mother’s house, even if it would be his one day, especially if he didn’t want to be here – a fact he had made abundantly clear.
The ornamental gardens were a view to behold. Kate had been expecting another ramshackle sight but the gardens were lush and well maintained, the hedges clipped in linear fashion.
‘This is my passion project,’ Liz confessed. ‘I do spend rather a lot of time gardening.’
‘I can see. It’s beautiful,’ Kate said softly. The gardens, bordered by angular hedges, swept down towards the loch. At the centre was a statue of a globe held by three cherubs. Dahlias, hydrangeas and begonia beds held a stunning array of peach, pink and orange flowers.
‘I’ll confess I probably spend far too much time out here, and not enough in there.’ Liz gestured back towards the house. ‘I’ve probably spent too long with my head in the sand. Or the flowers. After my husband died, I’m not sure I was really up to it … saving the house, I mean. In fact, I’m not sure I understood the house needed saving until recently. It all became a bit topsy-turvy without me really noticing. By which point James had come back, and seemed better equipped to handle the day-to-day running of the house – quite willing too. And I think I rather left him to it.’
Liz brightened. ‘But not anymore. I’ve placed too much pressure at his door and now it’s time he had help. Not that he accepts it, of course. But in time he’ll come round. Now, I wonder if I can leave you in James’s capable hands for the remainder of the tour?’
At this, Kate’s heart plummeted into her stomach. ‘Of course.’
‘Good, I want you to see the ghillie’s cottage. I do think it would make rather a good holiday let but it’s a bit of a journey round the far side of the loch so I think it’s best James drives you.’
Kate’s heart lifted itself back into place at this. A holiday cottage. She knew that would bring in much-needed revenue, although given the state the rest of the house was in, she dreaded seeing the condition of the cottage.
James was in the estate office, a low-level outbuilding made of the same grey stone as the main house and nestled between the house and the disused stables. Kate was distracted by the stables’ distressed wooden doors hanging off their hinges. Through the open, wonky doors, she could see the stable was being used for storage. Furniture and all sorts of boxes stood piled up at odd angles. It may be worth a ransack later, to see if anything could be salvaged and used. There were clearly a lot of items and she was starting to see how easy it was to hoard. Generations of McLays had been adept at collecting.
The junk in the stables was nothing to the carnage that awaited her in the estate office. Liz led the way but it was a squeeze to get inside the room. Boxes of paperwork and filing cabinets jostled for space. There was barely an inch of floor. They picked their way across the room towards the set of two large mahogany desks where James sat facing them, watching warily as they approached. Kate was careful not to slip on pieces of paper that had obviously fallen to the floor from the piles of paperwork that needed a more permanent home.
James closed his laptop slowly and gave both Kate and his mother a look that indicated he was being ambushed. Why was this man always on the offensive? Why the near-open hostility? Kate knew he felt replaced, although if he gave her half a second to explain, and his mother too for that matter, he’d be able to understand that she wasn’t there to bring the house down around his ears, but to work with him to save it. She would make a point of convincing him to like her later. Even if it killed her, Kate had to get him onside.
‘James, darling,’ Liz placated.
James lifted an eyebrow, making it clear he knew he was being buttered up.
‘Would you be a dear and take Kate over to the ghillie’s cottage? Explain what you’ve