The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter (23 page)

Chapter Thirty

  “What? He wants to speak to me…now?” Saba exclaimed, looking surprised, as Morven took a seat oan the bottom ae the bed.

  “That’s what he said,” Morven replied.

  Morven hid hung aboot ootside the dining room door fur the past hour, feeling like a skulking burglar, trying tae catch Saba’s eye and getting suspicious-looking glances fae the other staff who wur coming and gaun, erms full ae trays.

  “What does he want?”

  “He wouldn’t say.  He asked me to trust him.”

  “To do what?”

  “Not to ask why he wanted to meet with you.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t think you should go.”

  “Why?”

  Morven reminded her aboot the ootcome ae Innes’s court appearance and went oan tae explain that Innes hid been shot up in Rhelonie Wood.

  “Is he alright?”

  “Yes, I think so.  Rhelonie Wood is part of the estate though.”

  “What kind of contraption is a poachers’ retreat?  I’ve never heard of one before.”

  Morven explained as best she could, given she’d never actually seen wan before either, although everywan in the area knew aboot them.

  “He’s a lovely kind person, despite the run-ins he’s had with your father and the Sellar boys, Saba, but you saw what he did in the boxing ring.  He might…be up to something by using you to get to your father…I just don’t know,” Morven groaned, feelings ae disloyalty and doubt towards Paul welling up inside her.

  “What?  Hurt me?  Do you really think so?”

  “No, but I don’t know what else to think,” Morven replied, wringing her hauns before staunin up and pacing the room.

  “Where is he now?”

  “He’s waiting at the burn.”

  “Well, why don’t we just go up and see what he wants?  He won’t do anything if there are two of us…would he?”

  “He wants to speak to you on your own.”

  “No, I’m not going up there on my own.  If he wants to speak to me, he’ll have to come and speak to me where I’ll feel a bit more comfortable.  I’m not prepared to take any more cheek off Lost Boy...not after the abuse he’s given me.  He knows where I am,” Saba said wae finality, switching oan the radio and fumbling wae the dial, o’er by the windae where she hoped tae get a signal. A big smile appeared oan her face when The Ballad ae John and Yoko filled the room.

  “Do you think he’ll still be there?” Saba asked Morven, aboot an hour efter they’d moved oan fae their conversation aboot Paul.

  “I don’t know.  He said he’d wait until it started to get dark,” Morven replied, looking at the sky through wan ae the wee glass windaes.

  “Right, tell me what he said again, exactly, word for word.”

  Morven went o’er the conversation she’d hid up at the burn.

  “Oh, and he asked me to tell you to bring a map of Scotland, if you had one.”

Chapter Thirty One

  Paul sat watching The Gardener’s Daughter take her time walking up the path.  He hid almost gied up hope that she wis gonnae show up.  She wis oan her lonesome.  He’d awready worked oot his tactic oan how tae approach the subject.  He’d keep his cool and turn oan the charm.  If it worked oan Morven, he didnae see why it widnae dae the same wae the carrot-heid who’d stoapped aboot ten feet away fae him, looking aboot her like a nervous deer, hauf expecting a net tae drap doon oan tae her at any second.

  “Thanks fur coming,” he said, no noticing any sign ae a map in her hauns.

  “You wanted to speak to me?”

  “Aye, Ah did.  Come o’er and sit doon fur a minute…Ah promise Ah won’t bite ye,” he replied, feeling uncomfortable aboot her nervousness.

  “I’m fine standing here.”

  “Suit yersel then,” he said shrugging, staunin up and facing her.

  She’d a pair ae slacks oan, wae a cream sleeveless tap, underneath a dark green cardigan.  He knew the tap wis sleeveless because he goat a wee swatch ae the tap ae her bare shoulder as she swatted at the midgies that wur trying tae hiv their supper aff ae her.  She wis carrying a wee satchel, that wis strapped across her chest, separating her paps.

  “Let’s go for a walk.  I’m getting eaten alive,” she said nervously, turning and walking back the way she’d come.

  “Whit’s the score wae that auld man ae yers then?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “How come ye want tae piss aff fae a nice wee set-up like this, where ye’ve goat everything a poor lassie could ever wish fur?”

  “I need to get back to New York.  The only way I can do that is by going to my grandmother’s house in England.  She’s the only one
who’ll help me.”

  “Why no jist hop oan a bus or a train?” he asked, knowing full well that she’d awready attempted that a few times before. 

  “My father keeps having me sent back, every time I make an attempt to leave.”

  “And why dae ye think somewan like me kin help ye, when others hiv failed?”

  “I don’t know.  Perhaps if you could drive me to Inverness early in the morning, before anyone was up or knew I was gone, it would allow me an opportunity to get on a train.”

  “The problem wae that is they’d work oot the train or bus timetables and jist phone aheid.  Before ye knew it, ye’d be back up here, tucking intae aw that salmon and caviar again.”

  “We don’t eat caviar…my father doesn’t like the taste,” she said, wae a smile.

  “It’s funny ye should mention me driving ye though.”

  “You can drive?  For some reason, I knew you would have learned.”

  “Whit’s that supposed tae mean?”

  “Oh, nothing.  Sorry, I wasn’t being presumptuous.  I just get the impression that something as normal as driving a car wouldn’t be much of a problem to you, despite your age.”

  “Aye, Ah learned a few years ago fae a guy called Alex the Humph.  He wis the resident Toonheid instructor fur aw us wee scallywags, wance we’d made it oot ae short troosers.”

  “So, will you help me?  I would make it well worth your while?”

  Silence.

  “Aye and naw.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean,” she asked, stoapping and turning tae face him.

  “It aw depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Well, Ah don’t usually get masel involved in risky situations, unless Ah know that Ah’m gonnae succeed and your idea ae me drapping ye aff at the train station is a total non-starter.  Even if ye dae manage tae get doon tae England, Ah’d probably end up in the jail…or worse.”

  “I see,” she whispered, clearly disappointed.

  “And then Ah’d hiv tae ask masel, why wid an eejit like masel want tae
help somewan like you.  Ah mean, Ah’ve hid nothing bit grief fae that da ae yours and his gofers since Ah’ve arrived in the strath.  And, as Ah said tae ye the other night there, whit wid your reaction hiv been if Ah’d come tae you and asked ye something similar?”

  “So, why have you asked to speak to me then?  Is it something to do with Mr MacKay?  Morven said he’d been hurt.  I’m sorry.  I hope he’ll be alright, though I can’t speak for the actions of my father or the people he employs,” she said bitterly.

  “Oh, Ah never said Ah widnae help ye.  It’s jist that Ah hiv tae take ma situation intae consideration, as well as yours.  Ah kin guarantee tae get ye oan yer way doon tae England-shire…nae problem…bit the thing is, it wid hiv tae be ma way…plus Ah’d want a wee favour in return.”

  “Which is?” she asked suspiciously, hinging back and covering her
nice pair ae paps
wae her erm as they walked under the overhinging branches ae a large fir tree.

  “Oh, don’t worry, Ah’m no efter that posh body ae yours, nice though it looks.  Naw, Ah’d need a shot ae wan ae yer auld man’s big Landys.”

  “Landy?  What’s a Landy?”

  “The only problem is, Ah’d need it fur a few days, bit if Ah’m caught wae it, Ah’ll get done fur stealing it and that will definitely get me slung in the jail,” he continued, ignoring her question.

  “So, where do I come in?”

  “Well, tae put it as simply as Ah kin…Ah need tae tow a boat doon tae a place called Loch Fyne, which is somewhere doon south fae here.  Ah’d need ye tae come alang wae me so that if Ah goat stoapped, Ah could claim that you wur driving and that you wur the wan that wis gieing me a lift wae that wee boat ae mine.”

  “But, I can’t drive.”

  “So?  By the time Ah’d stoap, you’d be sitting, anchored in the driver’s seat.”

  “Why would I agree to do something like this for you?”

   “If ye’re serious aboot heiding doon tae yer granny’s castle, or whitever it is that she lives in, ye’ve mair chance ae succeeding if ye dae it my way.  It’ll gie ye a few days grace…tae allow the dust tae settle efter they notice ye’re offskie and before ye hit a railway station.  It wid also gie me some protection because Ah don’t think it wid take them long tae suss oot that it’s mair than jist rabbits that Ah’ve blagged aff the estate,” he replied, a wee smile oan that kisser ae his.

  Silence.

  “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully.

  “Ach, well, it wis only a thought.”

  “Explain it to me again,” she said, sitting doon, wae her back against a tree.

  Paul joined her and went through the scenario again, filling in as many gaps as he felt he’d missed the first time roond.  Saba wid get a haud ae the keys fur wan ae the estate Landys.  He’d meet her in the castle grounds in the middle ae the night and he’d roll wan ae the Landys doon the drive, then start up the engine wance they reached the castle gates.  The baith ae them wid heid back tae Wester Achnahanat and hook up the boat and then heid south, avoiding the main roads.  They’d need a map.  Efter they goat tae Loch Fyne and sold the boat, they’d dump the Landy. Saba could then get a train fae there and Paul wid heid back up the road.  If asked where he’d been, he’d say that he’d been away, looking fur work and that he hidnae seen her.  And last, bit nae least, Innes wid get his fine paid, which, efter aw, wis her da’s fault in the first place fur being such a greedy basturt and nae sharing aw they deer and salmon that he hid plenty ae wae his tenants.

  Silence.

  “Where would we sleep?” she finally asked, efter thinking fur a minute and ignoring his jibe.

  “It wid only be fur a few nights.  We could kip in the Landy.  We kin take breid and cheese wae us.  Ye hivnae tasted cheese till ye’ve tasted Whitey’s,” he replied, watching her face and trying no tae laugh at the confusion oan display.

  Silence.

  “And Mr and Mrs Mackay…they’ve agreed to all this?”

  “Well, no exactly.  Ah hivnae spoken tae them yet as Ah wanted tae suss oot whether ye’d be intae it.  Ah widnae worry aboot them.  That’s ma job.  The main thing is, Ah’d need ye tae be wae me tae save me fae ending up in the clink if we goat nabbed.”

  “So…I would be a hostage to fortune then?  Just there to save your skin?” she asked accusingly, clearly furgetting who wis daeing who the favours aboot there.

  “Er, aye…Ah couldnae hiv put it better masel,” Paul replied, turning tae face her, laughing and getting a chortle back in response.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured doubtfully, looking intae his eyes.

  “Oh well, as Ah’ve awready said, it wis jist a thought.”

  “Where’s Loch Fyne?”

  “Ah don’t know.  We’d need tae hiv a look at a map.”

  “Oh, I forgot.  See if this will do.  It’s the only one that I could lay my hands on at short notice,” Saba said, lifting the strap ae her bag o’er her heid and gieing him a wee swatch ae the belly-button oan that flat, white tummy ae hers, before taking oot a folded sheet ae paper.

  “Right, let’s hiv a wee gander then,” Paul said, opening up the map and spreading it oot oan the grass between them.

   “If it’s a lake, it shouldn’t be that difficult to spot,” she said, bending o’er and joining him.

   They spent aboot five minutes trying tae find it.

  “Are you sure it’s called Loch Fyne?” she asked, looking across at him, sweeping her long red hair away, before gaun back tae search wae that finger ae hers.

  “Aye, so Innes said.”

  “Here it is...Loch Fyne,” she hauf whooped, stabbing her finger oan tae it.

  “So it is.  Nae wonder we couldnae find it…its name is printed in a bloody curve, in amongst heaps ae other lochs.”

  “It’s a long way,” she said, retracing the distance back tae Culrain wae her eyes, before looking at him.

  “Aye, it is.  Whit we’d need tae dae is take the roads roond the coast.  The bizzies wid be looking fur ye oan the main roads south.  It’ll take us longer, bit that’s the way tae dae it.”

  “When were you thinking of leaving?” Saba asked.

  “As soon as possible…preferably this weekend.  Ah wis thinking ae Sunday night.”

  “Why Sunday?”

  “Because Ah cannae get up tae no good before then.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s complicated…that’s why.  Ah’d leave it at that, so Ah wid,” he said tae her.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “Aye, well.”

  “Sunday would be good for me.  In fact, the timing is perfect.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s my birthday on Monday and my father is planning one of his unsurprising special treats,” she replied sarcastically.

  “Ah don’t mind leaving it till Tuesday, if ye’d prefer.  Think ae aw they lovely expensive presents fae aw yer rich relatives.”

  “No, Sunday would be perfect for me.”

  “So, ye’ll dae it then?”

  “I don’t know.  I would need to think about it.”

  “Well, this is Wednesday, so we’ve only goat a few days.  We don’t hiv much time.  Meet me here the morra night at seven.  If ye’re intae it, let me know.  If ye’re no, then there’s nae herm done.”

  “What about Morven?”

  “Whit aboot her?”

  “Well, are you going to tell her what you’re planning?”

  “Right, ye better listen up, because this is really important.  The less Morven knows, the better.  Wance people suss oot that ye’ve disappeared and they put two and two thegither and make a connection between your disappearance and mine, she’ll be grilled oan whit she knows.  Don’t put her in a situation where she kin be caught oot lying because she feels loyalty tae somewan like yersel.  Whit she disnae know, she cannae tell.  Dis that make sense?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Naw, this is really important.  Don’t suppose anything.  Ah know whit Ah’m talking aboot.  If ye agree tae dae this, ye’ll hiv tae dae it ma way or nae way.”