ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense) (16 page)

After four exhausting hours, they began the final downhill stretch home. Cassandra stood on the hilltop and looked around, wondering if she might catch a glimpse of the tall dark figure she saw on her last few visits. So far he hadn’t failed her. Looking at the cairn, she thought she saw a flash of a shadowy figure moving among the rocks, but she wasn’t convinced. They walked more slowly than before, weary and footsore, and just before they entered the forest Cassandra recognised the prickle between her shoulder blades. She swung round and there, etched against the sky, stood the familiar figure. She gasped.

“What is it? “Julian asked following her gaze.

“There! Can you see him?” She replied pointing. “The man in black.”

Julian peered, squinting towards the hill. “No. I can’t see a soul. You’re spending far too much time on your own, Cassie, you’re seeing things.”

***

“We ought to get a dog. What dogs do they keep in Scotland? I only recall Scotties and Highland whites.”

“It did go through my mind after the fire. There are lots of terriers—cairn, Dandie Dinmont, and Skye, as well as your Highland whites. I think there are a few collies too. Oh, and the Scottish wolfhound of course.”

“Scottish wolfhound,” he said with relish. “It has a nice ring to it. I think we’ll get one of those. I can learn to hunt. I’ve always fancied myself as a good shot, and there’s fishing of course. Where’s the nearest salmon river?”

Cassandra laughed. “Julian, you’re sounding bloody corny, and I’ve no idea.
And,
in case you’ve forgotten, we’re
not
getting married, and I’m
not
getting a wolfhound, Scottish or otherwise. If
I
did get a dog, I thought a nice Welsh border collie would be sweet.”

“While you’re preparing dinner, I thought I’d have a wander round the village. I might bump into some of your neighbours. I can introduce myself. See you later.”

“Fine. Just don’t upset anyone, and for heaven’s sake, don’t tell anyone about last night. They’ll think I made the whole thing up.” She turned back to the kitchen sink and carried on peeling potatoes.

In the clear light of day, Cassandra wondered if she had blown the whole affair out of proportion. In fact, everything which had happened to her there might just have been a figment of her imagination. Even the paint could have been knocked over by a cat. Christ! Was she so depressed she was inventing all sorts of hallucinations? She paused and clutched at the side of the worktop for support. A wave of despair washed over her. She always prided herself on being a dynamic person and in full control of her life. But if she was ill, then she was failing miserably in caring for herself.
Susan, what have you done to me?
She whispered the words out loud. She wondered whether she could swallow the weight of Susan’s bombshell. Everything had been thrown at her all at once, and Cassandra thought it was so unfair.

And now this
thing
with Julian. She thought back to an hour ago when they returned home and she made tea. She put her foot down concerning their sleeping together. They were good friends and nothing more. “If we sleep together, it’ll be a disaster and we’ll end up being hurt. Let’s keep things the way they are.”

“Okay, Cassie. If that’s your wish, no jig a jig. But the offer of marriage still stands.”

“Julian, do you suddenly need a cloak of respectability or something? Have you applied for a new job? Don’t tell me it’s with children. You don’t even like them!”

He denied it, but Cassandra began to have doubts. She took out a lidded casserole and gave it a quick rinse. She was glad he had gone for a wander. His presence was having an odd effect on her and making her feel unsettled. She finished the vegetables and cut the meat up into cubes. Julian appreciated a good meal, and gingered beef was one of the dishes she excelled in. She was going to cheat with the pudding, as she had a chilled readymade gooey treacle tart. With luck, Julian would never guess.

He returned just before dark. His nose and the tips of his ears were pink from the cold, and he made a beeline for the nearest chair to the fire. “Well, I did the rounds. I met Donald and that scrawny female, Fiona. She’d be half decent-looking if she put some meat on her bones. Your nearest neighbours are certainly oddballs.”

“Do you mean the Campbells from the farm?”

“Well, with their blank looks and thick accents, it was difficult to make out what they were saying half the time.”

“I’m amazed they spoke to you at all. I’ve only got a few curt words from their mother. I take it you meant the brothers?”

He nodded as he pulled off his boots and held his feet towards the fire. “That’s better. The temperature has dropped since we were out earlier. I met two of the brothers, their uncle, and the mother in passing. And I caught a glimpse of what must be the daughter.”

“I’ve seen her once or twice, but never really spoken to her, as she always rushes indoors. I thought the uncle was bedridden?”

“Uncle Archie? No, he was as spry and upright as his nephews and full of talk about the kirk here. He takes care of the churchyard. They’re a tall family. I’m five foot ten, but they towered over me. It must be the spring water in the valley or something.”

“Which of the sons spoke to you? Not that I know who’s who.”

“Rae and Ian. Rae’s the eldest of the three, by the way.”

“He told you so himself?” The incredulity was distinct in Cassandra’s voice.

“Yes, why? He seemed quite proud of the fact. He was the most coherent one of the lot, not that it means much. You’ve probably met him…tall, quite broad-shouldered, small head.”

“Maybe,” she replied, still none the wiser as they all looked similar in their donkey jackets and woolly hats and mufflers. “And their mother? She’s a horror.”

“She stood eyeballing me from the front window. She looked a right old hag. I spoke to the menfolk when they arrived back with a tractor.”

“That figures. Did you say anything about where you’re staying? I expect they’ll already have me down as a fallen woman. They most probably are all stalwart kirk goers.”

Julian grinned and chuckled. “Definitely churchie, and no, I didn’t say a word, but they’ll have guessed. My car’s stuck out the front, and there’s not a lot of other traffic here.”

Cassandra smiled; his Porsche did stand out. “You’re right. They’re a nosy bloody lot.”

While Julian was out, she had given his room a proper cleaning, even the window. She found a spare throw and placed it over the duvet. The added splash of colour from the throw and coloured rug livened up the room no end. It looked more inviting; she didn’t want a repeat of the afternoon’s suggestion they should try sleeping together.

“I saw the two old girls by the way.” His voice broke into her thoughts. “Elizabeth and Laura was it? Eccentric old pair. If you hadn’t told me they were sisters, I’d have them down as a pair of lesbians for definite.”

“Lorna.” Funny…Cassandra would never have made that assumption. But Julian was right. She had seen how Elizabeth cared for Lorna, and it was reciprocated with the bobbing and weaving, ‘dear’ this and ‘dear’ that. The space saved next to each other on the settee. Why hadn’t she seen the possibility?

Thinking back to the day before, she realised neither had actually said, ‘My sister’. Cassandra had just assumed. But Lorna gave birth to a child. So had she been married, and if so, where was her husband? Had Lorna suffered a double loss of child and spouse?

***

All too soon, Julian’s visit came to an end, and Cassandra realised, as always, she enjoyed his company. By tacit agreement, they didn’t mention the ‘m’ word again, and after the first night, they were back on their old familiar footing.

“I’ve got some holiday coming up, and I’ll be back”, he said with a raffish grin. “Perhaps I can leave a few things here. There’s not a lot of room in the boot of the Porsche”, he added with a hint of naughtiness lurking around his mouth. Cassandra smiled knowing he was teasing her about moving in once again. “Feel free” she said, waving a hand. There was no need to add anything.

She stood outside as he loaded his bag into the car and offered her cheek for a kiss. She felt the stares from behind the curtains, and wondered if, like before, she would start imagining things.

Chapter 21 Spring and Summer, 2013, Inverdarroch

Life went on. The heavy snowfall never materialised, and wistfully, Cassandra wondered whether Angus had invented the forecast. If she wanted to get someone to go out with her, it was exactly the sort of thing she would have done. She quickly dismissed the notion. Angus was far too attractive to be overly interested in plain old Cassandra, even a thinner version.

She discovered a shop selling organic foods and bought a small freezer, which she kept full. Life improved: periods of laziness, forgetting about her worries, and a feeling of being almost happy. She had enough money to live on, ate well, and drank sparingly. She was living in Inverdarroch for over four months when she received another telephone call from Mr Triggs.

“I think we ought to meet and discuss this new offer, Cassandra.”

Intrigued and liking the excuse of a drive into town, Cassandra hurried to the offices of Triggs, Graham and Turner.

“It’s incredible,” she gasped when he told her the price. “Fifty per cent more than the first offer.”

“I advise you to take this. You have to accept this offer,” he told her in a firm voice as he stared at her over his bifocals. “It would be madness not to.”

“But who is it, Mr Triggs? Have you any idea?”

He shook his head, removing his glasses and polishing them with a snowy-white handkerchief he produced from his breast pocket. “No. But I’m guessing it’s someone local who knew your sister had passed away. The second offer came by email, but with no postal address.”

Cassandra
suppressed a grin. The way he said it, Mr Triggs obviously disapproved of e-commerce and no doubt would have preferred either a letter or to actually meet the person. Things moved a lot slower in the offices of Triggs, Graham and Turner.

“Then, that’s okay. I’d have to meet them first, and anyway, I’m determined to stay here for six months or even a year. I’ve settled in and can’t change my mind.”

Replacing his glasses, he once more peered at her over the rims. “Why not? Miss Potter, Cassandra, it is a substantial offer, and you originally said you wouldn’t want to keep the place. Think of it as a splendid investment which has handsomely paid off. You’ve been here for what, four months? Would leaving early make a lot of difference to your plans?”

Plans? What plans? Cassandra hadn’t thought beyond the next few months. At last she was free of stress, and life was gentle and soporific in the valley. The last thing she wanted was a return to busy city life. Not yet.

“All the same, I’d prefer to wait this out. I’ve made my mind up to stay a while. If I decide to leave and they’re still interested, then all well and good. If they’re keen, they’ll wait. If not…well, let’s see, shall we?”

***

Apart from Julian and his sporadic long weekends, Cassandra had other visitors during the year, and when she was alone, she made good use of her time. The cold winter had heralded a fine spring, producing some remarkably warm, dry days and evenings. She went further afield in her car, enjoying the landscape, which, after the copious watering during the winter months, was lush and green. Parks and gardens were ablaze with colour, and bluebells carpeted the woods. What she hadn’t been prepared for were the long daylight hours in that part of the northern latitude—seventeen out of twenty-four—and that year the majority of them were sunny. She also found the valley was more alive as hikers flocked to appreciate the surrounding spectacular scenery. Long lazy spring days gave way to June, the official start of summer in Scotland. Wherever Cassandra went, her camera always accompanied her. In the evening, with the radio or television as company, she sat down at her laptop and went through the thousands of photographs she had taken. By sorting through and being thorough she soon catalogued a sizeable portfolio of impressive pictures.

She occasionally met Angus on one of his forays into the wilds, and as they walked the last few miles home together, they chatted about all manner of subjects close to their hearts. But even though Angus always seemed to enjoy Cassandra’s company and rarely refused an invitation for a drink, she thought there was something slightly reserved about his manner. She often caught him studying her face, and she swore Angus felt the attraction between them, but for some reason didn’t pursue it.

Despite finding the organic shop, Cassandra tried her hand at growing vegetables in her garden. Rosie suggested keeping chickens, but Cassandra thought they would be too much of a tie and heard they encouraged rats. So far, she resisted Rosie’s well-meant idea. She planted seeds in the spring and kept them indoors until they grew big enough to transplant outside. She carefully chose sheltered sunny spots for her tiny seedlings. Over the weeks, Cassandra’s vegetables flourished, and when she picked her first lettuce and two ripened tomatoes, she felt a justifiable pride.

It was the first time she had ever grown anything to eat, and she enjoyed the experience—from the initial digging over of the bed, removing the coarse straggly weeds, to the final tilling of the soil. She felt pleasure in simply grubbing around in the dirt: the touch and smell of the earth on her hands. She imagined herself as a country woman, physically and actively in tune with nature, and the unsavoury events of the winter began to fade from her mind.