I was last out of the dining room and raced upstairs, snatching some time to Google the news clip, before the goodbyes.
‘For some time now the controversy of onshore wind farms has been a political issue with the Tories claiming many wind farms are blighting the landscape,’ said the short, clean-shaven man on my mobile’s screen. ‘A bill has passed to end subsidies to onshore wind farms from 1 October this year, a year earlier than set out in the previous coalition party agreement.’ On he went, this spokesman from the Department of Energy and Climate Change, his hands clasped over his belt buckle. ‘The change in timetable will not mean the Government can’t meet its target for renewable energy. There are enough decisions in the pipeline to ensure targets are met.’ Oozing confidence on this matter he added one final statement: ‘There will be a grace period for projects that already have planning permission.’
The Energy Secretary then joined him to discuss the implications of the announcement, how it would affect investors as well as an agreement to press ahead with the intensification of offshore wind farms: ‘The deal will look to seize on opportunities presented by the UK’s seven thousand miles of coastline.’
Tagged on at the end was what I’d been waiting for, the short clip of Lord Froglan-Home-Mybridge, a tall lanky man with a big nose, grumbling away. He had a cleft chin, an inherited trait, the very same as Minty. He must be a relation.
The broadcast was preceded by a repeat of News at Ten’s coverage of his arrest. Not only had this man bred water voles (they were careful to mention there’s no proof of releasing them) but he had paid Alec Ronaldsay, under the counter so to speak, a substantial amount of money to release several of his captive ravens into the wild.
Quote from a fellow peer: ‘My associate and friend is not a malicious person. His actions were solely driven by his concern for the future of our beautiful island and the creatures that inhabit it. The excessive lengths he was willing to go to were driven by his commitment to the cause, not a means to target specific individuals. He was standing up for his principles; only in doing so was he breaking the law.’
A formal apology from the Conservative Party on behalf of their colleague was then read out, with the add-on, ‘It is thought Lord Froglan-Home-Mybridge’s good work as a member of the Lords will considerably reduce his sentence when the court makes its decision.’
Cor, what a story. So many things made sense now from beginning to end: the shrill in the dark sky when I first arrived; Stuart wanting to talk to Zoe urgently; the lights down by the river; I bet it was a captive bird flying into the kitchen window; Zoe’s stolen bracelet; the explosion of ravens; Stuart’s gruff manner when I met him in the wood. All from one man’s conspiracy to stop the Auchen Laggan Tosh Moor wind farm. Or was Zoe behind it too? Had she teamed up with Ewen, the artist with a sensitivity for beautiful views, to terminate Fergus’s application? The art residency would be the perfect opportunity to accept a Tory peer’s daughter on the course and grant him access. Zoe even sent Stuart away that day – ‘yous sent me to pick up a roll of tweed fer the mill’.
‘Susie?’ I heard Zoe shout along the corridor. ‘Grab a coat and we’ll go and wave goodbye.’
Whoops, I’d lost track of the time.
Almost everyone was in the hall and one after the other they were showering Zoe with appreciative thank yous and now I was here they moved on to me.
Lianne and Shane offered up a hug. ‘Thank you so much, Susie.’
I smiled. I was sad to see them go.
Giles and Felicity both shook my hand. Then Rupert, having kissed Zoe on both cheeks, planted two on mine.
I reached to open the front door. Louis was on the other side.
‘There you both are,’ he said and welcomed Zoe’s kiss. I took a few steps back at the sight but soon gloated when he gave me four. Credit to the French.
‘Give me a text when you get to London,’ he whispered as he stuffed a note in my hand. I smiled. All three of us stepped outside and no sooner was Louis down the steps than I thought, hang on a minute you arrogant so and so – surely you should be contacting me?
Zoe and I stood side by side.
‘Have you all said goodbye to Fergus?’ she called out.
Louis turned his head. ‘Yes, he was here a moment ago.’
Then Zoe, suddenly remembering one other person, yelped, ‘Where’s Jane?’
Felicity stuck her head out the bus. ‘She’s already in here.’
‘Wish her goodbye,’ said Zoe.
‘From me too,’ I added.
The sooner Jane was gone the better and good luck to her trying to sell those diamonds on the open market.
Fergus and Haggis appeared from inside and joined Zoe and me, all ready to wave goodbye. He squeezed his wife’s shoulder, the engine of the minibus started and all three of us threw our arms up in the air. No sooner had it left the yard than I dashed upstairs to get my stuff.
I returned the heater to the broom cupboard and picked up my suitcase as well as the Edith Wharton novel. I must remember to put that back.
I said a fond goodbye to Mhàiri and then found Zoe and Fergus in the library, slumped on the sofa with Haggis between them.
‘We were just enjoying a bit of time to ourselves,’ said Fergus, getting up. ‘It is nice to think we’ll be back to our usual routine soon.’
‘I
