‘I’ll get the water,’ he said and scurried out of the room.
‘Don’t worry, I’m fine,’ croaked Fergus, but Ewen had disappeared.
‘Golly,’ said Felicity as everyone flopped back into their seats. ‘I thought you were going to keel over for a second.’
‘That’ll teach me not to be so greedy. Something my mother never got through to me.’
‘Where does your mother live these days?’ said Louis.
‘Hampshire. Have you met her?’
Jane jumped in and put Fergus on the spot. ‘Hampshire? Do you have family ties there?’
‘No, she’s, she’s…’
Zoe finished his sentence. ‘She’s living with her boyfriend.’
Fergus’s eyes dipped as Zoe, in a refreshingly straightforward manner, told us, ‘Fergus’s father had a terrible drink problem, it’s no secret. And angel, I think your mother deserves to have found happiness again.’
‘I completely agree,’ said Felicity.
Rupert’s head appeared round the door. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt but I can’t get any blasted reception on my mobile and I must give Jules a call.’
‘Here,’ Zoe immediately stood up, ‘let me show you where the landline is.’
Then, remembering I’d forgotten to thank Mhàiri for getting her husband to look at my flat tyre, I got up and explained where I was going.
‘She’ll be in the kitchen,’ replied Fergus and I left the room.
The kitchen smelt of lamb and there was a great big cast-iron pot bubbling away on a greasy Aga. The windows were steamed up and Mhàiri’s grey fringe was stuck to her forehead.
‘It smells delicious.’
‘Lamb casserole. So many of youse I could nee fit the pot in the oven. Wee bit moisty in here.’
‘Thank you very much for getting Donald to look at my tyre. I see he’s fitted the spare one, so kind of him.’
‘No trouble, Susie. I’m afraid he said the old un’s slashed and you’ll need ta get a new one fitted. Don’t you go worrying tho, there’s a local manny and he’ll fix it for yous.’
‘I should probably call him then and hope he can order it in.’
‘There’s no need for that, they’ve got them all there.’
I doubted they had every kind of tyre but as my modest car isn’t some flashy indulgence, not that I could afford such a thing, I was hopeful they would have a fit.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ she said. ‘You can be honest wee me.’
Mhàiri and I were staff, two peas in the same pod as far as she was concerned, and this made me smile. ‘Yes. I’ve never taught on a residency before but it seems to be going okay and Zoe couldn’t be more welcoming.’
‘All right for some,’ she said, and the sting in her tone worried me. We all know the cliché that Scots dislike the English; I’ve always had a good time up here, but did it stretch to Zoe? Have I slipped up and am I about to lose Mhàiri’s trust?
‘You having a hard time?’ I asked, but she didn’t reply, instead grabbing a dish cloth and furiously polishing an already clean surface. I now knew she wasn’t going to tell me what was on the tip of her tongue.
I tried changing the topic. ‘It’s a pretty spectacular house this.’
‘Needs a fair bit of work doing to it but I’m awfully fond of the place.’ Mhàiri leant against the sink. I had her full attention again. ‘How are yous students doing?’
‘They’re a good group and worked hard today.’
‘That wee lad wee the spiky hair, he’s a one. Likes me flapjacks so he does. Coming in here filling his pockets, you’d think he was feeding a horse upstairs. And whit’s the upright gentleman called?’
‘Rupert.’
‘Well, he’s fair got manners. He pokes his head round that swinging door at every opportunity to thank me.’
‘How kind.’
‘Aye. It’s interesting the folk this week. We ain’t had such a varied group afore.’
‘What other groups have you had?’
‘Ta be honest wee yous, we’ve only had day courses afore. Garden open and what’s not. Chatty posh ladies who dinee pay the likes a me or yous any attention.’
‘I guess you see it all.’
‘I fair do, Susie, nowt passes me by. That woman wee the cardigan wee gold buttons?’
‘Jane?’ I said. I was looking forward to a bit of gossip.
‘Aye, that Jane. I swear she came here wee her folks when she were a bairn.’
‘Really?’
‘Unless it’s her mammy reincarnated that’s definitely the daughter of a woman who used to stay.’
Jane is one of many indistinguishable ladies in the English county set. A type. A woman with a lapsed figure, a short fuse, a bossy manner, a string of pearls and a tendency to visit a supermarket in her Schoffel. Take her off her home turf, deposit her at Auchen Laggan Tosh and Mhàiri instantly recognises her as the daughter of someone who’d stayed many years before.
‘She hasn’t said she’s been here before?’
‘She’ll have forgotten, she were teeny weeny when they used to come. But I dinee forget, and that’s her mammy’s face for sure.’
‘We could ask Fergus. He’d know.’
‘Na, Fergus would nee remember, he was nee born.’
Now I was confused. If Mhàiri is right then I have my ages all wrong. Mhàiri must be in her seventies; she looks great for her age and I’d have to knock a few years off Jane and put her at about fifty.
‘Hey,’ I said swapping our subject, ‘has Louis Bouchon been here before?’
‘The foreign one?’
‘He’s half English,’ I said, instantly sticking up for him.
‘Aye, but wee a name like that he’s gotta be a foreigner.’
I laughed. ‘Has he stayed here before?’
‘Nope.’
‘Visited?’
‘I canee remember. Over the years there have been a lot of people through this house.’
Ah ha, I’d got her. How could she remember Jane’s mother from forty-plus years ago if she couldn’t remember a foreigner in the last seven?
‘Well, thanks again for the tyre and for all this delicious food.’
‘Oh hen, yous dinee need to thank me.’ Mhàiri touched my arm. ‘But while you’re here would yous mind giving me a wee hand
