From Scotland with Love (5 page)

‘Shall we see? I can give it a go, at least.’ She smiled briefly.

‘OK. I’ll prepare myself to be amused.’

‘You know what?’ said Daisy seriously, having got aboard and settling herself in the middle of the boat. ‘You should practise that. Being amused is a good skill to have.’

‘And you know what? You’re really helping.’

Daisy smiled, feeling smug, ‘I’ll tell Venetia. She’ll like that.’

They’d travelled halfway across the loch before he said, ‘You actually can row, can’t you?’

‘Yup. One of those things my father thought I ought to learn.’

‘So why do you go round looking as if you’re a complete ditz? You do have skills and yet you’re just a PR girl.’

Daisy frowned at him over her oars. ‘You of all people should know better than that. PR girls work incredibly hard and do a really difficult and important job. And I love it.’ She had only recently discovered this.

‘And you do it badly.’

‘I’m not brilliant at it, I admit, but that’s because it’s difficult.’

‘But you can cook, row, basically do useful things. It’s crazy you doing a job you’re bad at.’

‘If you can think of jobs in London, that pay, that include cooking and rowing, I’ll apply right away. Although to be honest, I would need a whole wardrobe change.’

He frowned and shook his head, not convinced she was making sense.

‘There are other places to live apart from London,’ he said.

‘You say that, but I wouldn’t want to risk it. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere I couldn’t pick up a black cab at any time.’ She shuddered at the thought. Then wondered if actually, she might learn to cope without them.

While Rory stacked logs, Daisy made some soup using her private, super-quick recipe that relied on Rory’s well-stocked freezer and a tin of tomatoes. She added some dried chilli, hoping its presence in the spice rack meant Rory liked it.

After lunch Daisy made a cake while Rory sawed and chopped and stacked. She quite liked this sort of job herself but thought he would feel obliged to think up a job for her that involved cooking, rowing and log-chopping. She didn’t think he should waste his brain-power. While she creamed and folded, her own brain was focused on how she could suggest to him that he not only offer Athene another book, but instead, four books. That way he would get enough money to buy his beloved loch and the woodland beyond. She’d had another text from Venetia, wanting to know how she was getting on. She’d added a Happy New Year for Tomorrow to the text otherwise Daisy would never have noticed the date.

By four o’clock it was dark. Daisy made tea and cut a slice of cake. She took a mug and the cake up to Rory and then took her own into the sitting room. She stoked the wood burner (no girl whose parents had a place in the country was fazed by a wood burner), put more logs on the fire and snuggled up on the sofa with a book. Then, still feeling chilly, she lit the fire and pulled the throw that was on back of the sofa over herself. It had presumably been left behind by Eleanor. She might have had a lot of things wrong with her, Daisy thought, but she had good taste and shared Daisy’s passion for cashmere. It was hard to remember it was New Year’s Eve – Hogmanay up here. Back home she’d be climbing into something uncomfortable but sexy and ringing round her friends for lifts to and from the venue. She didn’t seem to mind missing out on all the fun at all. How weird was that?

She was awoken from her comfortable doze in front of the fire by a high, strangled cry. Her first thought was of a fox but then she remembered Grizzie. She struggled upright and went into Grizzie’s bedroom. She was there, looking frightened, possibly wondering what on earth was happening to her.

Daisy ran up the stairs, calling as she went. ‘Rory? I think Grizzie’s in labour!’

He appeared at his office door, looking dishevelled and worried. ‘Are you sure? How do you know? She’s not due for a few more days!’

‘Come and see for yourself.’

She went back quickly, certain he would mow her down in his eagerness to get to his beloved dog.

Griselda was very pleased to see her master.

Her master, on the other hand, was not pleased to see Griselda obviously suffering – from confusion if not from real pain. ‘I’ll ring Hamish,’ he said.

Daisy made sure Griselda had water and food available and that there were plenty of newspapers around. Then she trawled the house for things she might need.

There was a generous stock of hand towels in the airing cupboard. Eleanor obviously had a small White Company addiction for which Daisy was now grateful. She took several of them, sure Griselda would appreciate her puppies being born into such fluffy luxury. She found a couple of single sheets and added them to her pile. Then she went to the kitchen and found scissors. She put them in a pan and boiled them for a few minutes and then tipped them out onto a towel. She didn’t know if all this hygiene was necessary but she was sure Rory would appreciate it.

She put her birthing kit into a box lined with a bath towel and took it all into what she thought of as Griselda’s birthing suite. Then she plumped up Griselda’s duvet and went to get her book. She settled on the sofa. She knew it could take a long time for anything to happen.

Rory came back into the room. ‘Hamish is on his way,’ he said. ‘I’ll boil some water.’

‘I’ll make tea for him when he gets here,’ said Daisy, making it clear that boiling water probably wasn’t necessary.

But Rory had already left the room.

Daisy followed him into the kitchen. ‘It could take ages, no need to do anything now. Unless you want tea yourself?’

He looked at her, his expression wild. ‘I want whisky but I won’t, not until we know it’s all over.’

‘Very sensible. Although it is New Year’s Eve.’ She looked at him. ‘Why don’t you go and sit with Grizzie? She’d like you to be there with her.’

‘How do you know so much about it? Oh, don’t tell me – your parents sent you on a course.’

Daisy giggled. ‘Of course they didn’t. If they’d thought I could be a vet they’d have made me go to Uni. But my mum has Cavaliers and they’ve had a couple of litters.’

‘Cavaliers? Aren’t they really small? It won’t be the same at all.’

Daisy shrugged, not sure if it would be the same or not. ‘Never mind. Hamish will be here. How long will it take him?’

‘Normally about forty minutes but in this, I’m not sure.’ He looked out of the window and Daisy followed his gaze. It had started to snow again.

‘I’m sure he has plenty of time to get here,’ said Daisy. ‘Tell you what, we’ll have tea and something to eat while we’re waiting. It’ll help to pass the time.’

‘Not for me. Well, tea maybe, but I couldn’t face food.’

Daisy shook her head. ‘Ooh, we’ve got a right one ’ere.’

He glared at her. ‘Are you teasing me?’

‘Just a little bit,’ said Daisy, not quite as brave as she sounded.

She left him alone with Griselda for a short time. She put more logs on the fire and got in another load from the woodshed, selecting the most seasoned. She realised she wasn’t hating this whole situation nearly as much as she would have thought. She was actually good at country skills and now she was surrounded by it, found she quite liked scenery, even when it was mostly white. She wondered briefly if it was Rory’s presence that made it all so appealing but pushed the thought firmly away. A PR girl having a thing with a top author would be such a cliché.

‘How’s she doing?’ she said a few minutes later.

Rory was sitting on the sofa, looking distraught, his hair obviously mangled by anxious fingers. ‘I don’t know. Look, would you stay with her? I’m going to give Hamish another ring. I just hope he hasn’t gone out to a party.’

‘Bit early isn’t it?’

He glanced at his watch, shook his head as if confused, and left the room.

Daisy settled on the sofa with her book and the cashmere throw.

Rory came back a few minutes later. ‘He doesn’t think he can get here.’ He looked as if he could hardly believe this terrible news. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘Well,’ said Daisy. ‘You could ask Grizzie if she could put off having her pups until the snow’s gone –’

‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous.’

‘Or we can just see how it goes. Do our best to help her.’ She frowned slightly. ‘The hard part will be keeping us amused while we wait. We could probably hear her from the sitting room and watch a film but I –’

‘We’re not leaving her alone!’

‘No.’ She paused. ‘Have you got any cards, Rory?’

He looked bemused. ‘What, business cards?’

‘No! Playing cards. You know, with numbers and pictures on!’

His expression cleared. ‘Oh yes. Good idea. I’ll find them.’

Daisy found a small table they could play on. Her training as a PR girl – always looking ahead to see if anything was required to make things go more smoothly – hadn’t been entirely wasted.

Rory brought a large jar full of small change as well as the cards.

‘We don’t need money for Snap do we?’ asked Daisy.

‘We’re not playing Snap – we’re playing Poker.’

‘Oh.’

‘Don’t tell me you don’t know how to play Poker, Daisy-the-PR-Girl!’

‘Well –’ Her parents had suggested it was a good idea to learn at least the rudiments of Bridge but Poker wasn’t on their list of things a young woman should know.

‘Share out the money. Any you win, you can keep,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ she said and began counting coins.

He’d taught her the basics and Daisy had won a few hands and was enjoying it more and more. ‘This is the best fun I’ve had with my clothes on!’ she said delightedly. And the best New Year’s Eve she’d had for years, but she didn’t say this out loud.

‘There is a version you can play –’

She scowled at him, knowing perfectly well what he was referring to. ‘No,’ she said sternly.

He shrugged. ‘Maybe it is a bit cold for Strip Poker.’

‘And imagine if Hamish arrived and we were both half naked. Not a good impression.’

Rory laughed. ‘I didn’t think you were prudish.’

‘Oh I’m not – at least I don’t think I am – no one ever thinks they’re prudish, do they? No, I was talking from a PR point of view.’

He shook his head, tutting. ‘PR my elbow. Your deal.’

Daisy was about to put down a very good hand and claim a huge pile of money when Griselda decided it was time to stop the fun. She gave that strange, high-pitched cry that made both Daisy and Rory throw down their cards. A black, shiny parcel was appearing from Griselda’s back end.

‘Oh my God, I’m going to faint,’ said Rory. ‘I’ll ring Hamish.’

‘Stop being such a wuss! Hand me that towel,’ said Daisy. ‘I’ll catch it. It’s quite a long way down.’

Daisy took hold of the bundle emerging from Griselda, overcoming her own anxiety and squeamishness and passed it to Griselda.

‘Oh my God, she’s eating it,’ said Rory.

‘No. She just breaking it out of its sac. And yes, she is eating the afterbirth but that’s supposed to happen.’

‘You are amazing, you know that?’ said Rory.

‘Griselda is amazing, that’s what. I’m going to change her sheet round a bit so she’s not lying in the wet.’

‘I didn’t know we had all this stuff for her. It’s fantastic!’ said Rory.

‘Not sure your ex-wife had Griselda’s puppies in mind when she bought it, but I’m sure she’d be happy to know she had them on a thousand thread count sheets.’

‘What the hell are you on about?’ Rory was calmer now, watching Griselda wash her pup with a thoroughness that was almost rough.

‘The sheets are very high quality,’ said Daisy. ‘Oh, it’s amazing, isn’t it? I feel quite tearful.’

Rory put his arm round her and gave her a squeeze. ‘So do I.’

When they’d made Griselda and the puppy comfortable and it had made its bumbling way to a teat, Daisy said, ‘So, tea? Or more Poker?’

‘Poker. I was about to take you to the cleaners.’

‘You were so not! Look!’ Daisy proudly laid down her cards.

Rory poked them with his finger. ‘Sorry, Daze, that’s a nine, not a ten. My four aces beats you.’

While Daisy laughed and teased and attended to Griselda who seemed to appreciate having her chest rubbed while she waited for her next pup, she was aware of how much she liked sitting next to Rory, feeling his large, warm figure beside her as they played. While he was outfoxing her at Poker he seemed to forget his worries about his dog and to lose his gloomy persona. Daisy wondered how much of that gloom had been due to his unhappy marriage and now, the loss of both his wife and his friend.

‘I’m hungry,’ he said, having swept up a pile of pennies and added them to his hoard.

Daisy looked at her watch. ‘Ten o’clock! And we didn’t have supper. Shall I make us something?’

‘No, I will. I can make sandwiches if I have to, but if a puppy comes, I won’t know what to do.’

‘Good timing,’ said Daisy, when he came back some minutes later. ‘Look!’ Griselda was giving her second puppy a jolly good wash. ‘It’s a little girl, and she arrived while you were out of the way.’

‘Men have no place in a delivery room,’ he stated firmly. ‘It was one of the few things my ex-wife and I agreed on. Not that we had any children, of course.’

‘Oh,’ said Daisy as they ate their sandwiches. ‘I think I’d need someone in there with me, who I knew. But I haven’t got any children either. Not likely to for years and years.’

‘But you want them eventually?’

‘Oh yes! I should think so.’

‘How old are you, Daisy?’

‘Twenty-five.’

‘That is young. Very young.’

‘True,’ said Daisy, ‘but you know the weird thing?’

‘What?’

‘You were twenty-five once.’

He laughed. ‘You know what, young Daisy – think I can call you that now with confidence – I’ve had more fun with you and a couple of packs of cards than I’ve had for ages and ages.’

‘I’ll tell Venetia. She’ll think I’m doing my job properly for once and be pleased.’ She was ecstatic herself but didn’t want him to know that.

‘It’s not all about your job, Daisy. None of what you’ve been doing lately has been on your job description, now has it?’

She relented. ‘Well, not everything I’ve been doing, admittedly. But Venetia expects all her team to provide any service required by our authors.’