Sign of the Times (25 page)

Chapter Thirty Five

Carl – CANCER

Caring, emotional, sensitive, resistant to change, home-loving.
 
Family is all-important to them and they seek security.
 
Withdraw into themselves.
 
Find it difficult to be objective and are easily crushed by criticism.
 
Worry too much.
 

Carl stepped out of his Volkswagen Passat and was heading towards the restaurant, when he heard a voice calling him
.

“Carl! Over here
!”

Turning he saw the foreman from Tom’s company waving at him.
 
At thirty-nine, Carl Summers was a handsome man, although perhaps a little chunkier than in previous years.
  
But with his very fine, sandy hair and wide set, piercing blue eyes, he still had something about him.
 
As he trudged over the muck towards the construction site, he caught sight of Lucy’s brother-in-law to be.
 
Tom owned the building company, which was overhauling the old restaurant for him.
 

“What is it, Alex?” Carl asked.

“Just wanted to show you your foundations,” grinned Alex. “We’re through.”

“Really?” Carl was amazed.
 
They’d said at least another week.

“Yeah, we managed to break through quicker than expected,” Alex explained.

“So what’s next?”
 

“Well, we have to review the foundations and then we’ll need to sit down and see what your next priority is.”

It was a daunting task trying to organise all the tradesmen and Carl felt relief that he was working with Tom’s company.
 
His previous business venture hadn’t taken off and it had all been down to unreliable workmen.
 
Thinking back on it now, Carl shook his head and turned to Alex.

“Do you guys have enough work for today?”

“Yeah, we need to take all this stone away.”

Carl wanted to take away the extension, as it wasn’t in keeping with the beautiful exterior of the building.
 
He’d rather have a smaller restaurant than a larger, hideous one.
 
He intended The Steadings, Strathblane to be the centrepiece of the village.

Carl had spent an incalculable amount of time, deciding on the look for his restaurant.
 
He wanted it to be relaxed, but still upmarket.
 
Locals should feel they could pop in for a light supper.
 
There would be different eating areas.
 
Lunches would be held in the brasserie.
 
The restaurant would be à la carte.
 
There would be a small snug.
 
It wouldn’t be a proper bar, although guests could drink with their meals.
 
His target market wasn’t men coming in for a drinking session until dinnertime.
 
The snug would be like those he’d seen in the Highlands; dark grey stone, roughly hewn walls, and a roaring log fire.
 
However, instead of uncomfortable wooden benches, his would house ruby red armchairs, interspersed with mahogany coffee tables and chocolate, leather sofas.
 
Quality newspapers and classy magazines would be provided.
 
No matter what the pensioners said, those in this area tended to be monied and
they
were his principal target market.

The floor would be oak, some of it remaining from the original structure.
  
The restaurant would be Scottish in theme, but without any concession to tartan.
 
A few tasteful prints would be dotted around the snug.
 
The brasserie would be bright, with terracotta and cream fabric wall hangings.
 
Carl also wanted to include some period pieces, an old barometer maybe, or an eighteenth century clock.
 
There would be pictures of Scotland’s great inventors.

It irked Carl that children nowadays often didn’t know their own history.
 
It was a shame, which meant it was left to the family to pass on the knowledge.
 
Carl was lucky.
 
He had a very large, extremely close family.
 
Carl was fourth, after Fraser, Agnes and Robert.
 
He was followed by Hilary, Flora, Gillian, Grant and Izzy or Ishbel.

Carl roamed around the main dining room.
 
It would be predominately cream and vermilion and Carl was aiming for clean, understated lines.
 
Nothing but the best for The Steadings.
 
It had a real country feel to it and rightly so, as a century ago, it had formed part of a merchant’s mansion.

At college Carl had studied Cookery and Business
.
 
Cooking was his first love, but fortunately he also had a good business head.
 
The failure of his first venture had simply been bad luck.
 
His natural flair for cooking had been first discovered helping in his parents’ pub.
 
The Jedburgh Tavern was a roaring concern and Carl was anxious to prove to his father that his business could be as successful.
 
Carl had used his father as a sounding board when his previous business had failed and now hoped to prove himself to girlfriend Lucy and perhaps coax her to settle down.
 
Lucy was wild.
 
She liked to be able to spread her wings at a moment’s notice. Next week it was Switzerland.
 
They really needed to make a concerted effort to spend some time together before she left.
 
It had been crazy recently, trying to get everything organised for the restaurant.

Carl’s mobile rang.

“Carl.
 
It’s me,” his sister said.

“Izzy.
 
Hi.”

“Listen, have you done anything about Dad’s seventieth?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you remember that place we stayed in near Onich?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it would hold all of us.
 
It would be different from just having a meal.
 
I’ve checked, we can book just for the weekend and the rates are reasonable between all of us.”

“Listen Izzy, I’m really busy but I’m coming down tonight.”

“OK. I’ll see if the others are free.”

He’d achieved a lot today, Carl reflected, as he dialled Lucy’s number.
 
Voicemail.
 

“Luce, I’m going down to my parents’ for a bit.
 
Izzy has some idea for Dad’s seventieth.”

It was always difficult to get a hold of Lucy.
 
She was always so busy.
 
She made a packet, but was never home
.
 
If they wanted to have kids, they’d have to stop working so much.
 
At thirty-seven, Lucy wasn’t getting any younger.
 
And they’d need a house, not the three bedroom flat they had in Bearsden. When he’d bought it, it had been the area to live in, but a third floor flat wasn’t suitable for children.
 
Carl wanted kids and lots of them.

“Hello?” Carl answered his mobile.

“Carl, it’s Tom.”

“All right?”

“Just wondered if you fancied a pint later?”

“We-ell,” Carl dithered.

“Oh go on. I’m on my own, with Holly away.”

“OK, but it’ll need to be later.
 
I’m going to Jedburgh.”

“See you in The Bruce at eight?”

“OK.”

Carl wondered what that was about.
 
He liked Tom but they didn’t socialise together much, unless Holly was around.
 

“I don’t know why you lot bothered moving out,” Mrs Summers chastised them.
 
Sheepishly, Carl, Izzy, Grant and Flora looked at their mum.
 
Only Izzy had called. “Sorry,” they muttered.

“Consideration, that’s all I ask.”
 
Their mum wasn’t quite the battleaxe she made out to be, Carl thought.
 
She simply liked to fuss.

“I like the car, Grant,” Carl changed the subject.

Grant grinned.
 
He’d just bought an Audi R8.
 
A stockbroker in the City, he had no kids, no girlfriend worth mentioning and was into boys’ toys.

“You can have a go later,” said his brother magnanimously.

“Really?” Carl perked up, then remembered he was meeting Tom.

“Maybe another time.
 
I have something on later.”
 

“Dinner’s ready,” their mother called.
 
They all clattered through to the dining room.

“Where are the wee ones, Flora?” Carl’s father, Gordon asked.

“With their dad.”

“Ah,” Gordon chewed his meat.
 
“You know, I like to see them, now and again.”

“Dad, they’re never out of here!” Flora burst out.
 
“Bryce never sees them.”

“Well, if you’d let us look after Katie and Jacob, instead of childminders, I’d get to see my grandchildren,” Gordon huffed.

“Well actually, the reason we’re here is so we can all spend more time together,” Izzy said.

“Oh?”

“That’s right,” Carl joined in, “Izzy’s been researching your birthday do.”

His father looked at his youngest daughter fondly.
 
“So what is it this time? Paragliding, white water rafting, scuba diving?” he joked.

“No.
 
It’s a place called Ardrhu House…”
 
She filled them in.
 
Carl watched the others, gauging their reaction.
 

The response was favourable and in the absence of their other siblings, motion was carried.
 
They were already behind in booking somewhere.
 
Izzy appointed herself as correspondent to the absent family members, with the exception of Fraser, the eldest, who lived in Queensland.
 
He was coming back for their father’s birthday celebrations.
 
The rest of the siblings were dotted around Scotland.
 
Izzy and Fraser didn’t get on.
 
The age difference probably didn’t help.
 
Fraser had left home before Izzy could even walk.
 
Carl would email Fraser.
 

“Hi Tom.
 
Sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve been watching the snooker.”

They chatted about the restaurant, but Carl knew that could have been done on-site.
 
Something’s troubling him, he thought.
 
He left the pub an hour later, none the wiser as to what was eating Tom.
 
Maybe he was missing Holly.

As he parked, he noticed Lucy’s Audi was missing.
 
If he’d known she wouldn’t be home, he could have stayed at the pub.
 

Carl sank into his recliner and flicking on the TV, channel-hopped until bored, he fell asleep.

He woke up when Lucy’s key turned in the lock.
 
Disorientated, he noticed the digital clock read 2:39.
 
Lucy was creeping up the stairs, when Carl’s voice broke through the silence,

“You don’t need to tiptoe. I’m in here.”

“Carl! Don’t do that to me
!”
Lucy’s hand flew to her cleavage. “You almost gave me a heart attack
,”
she slurred.
 
Hiccupping she sat down on the sofa beside him.

“Were you waiting up for me?” she asked.
 
He was unsure if she was flattered or annoyed, so decided to forego any brownie points and tell the truth.

“Actually no.
 
I fell asleep.
 
I thought you were going to be here.
 
What time you working tomorrow?”

“Nine.”

“You’d better take a taxi.
 
C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” he said, as he guided his huffing, drunken girlfriend upstairs.
 

Chapter Thirty Seven

Next morning, Carl slipped out without waking Lucy.
 
She’d need the extra hour’s sleep, after the state she’d been in.
 
He had an appointment with his bank manager, but wanted to peruse his paperwork beforehand.
 
After padding downstairs, he made coffee and took it through to his home-office.
 
Everything seemed to be on track.
 
The bank had lent him the money, but with rather stringent conditions.
 
He pushed the papers aside, remembering he’d agreed to email his brother.
 
Carl got on with everyone in his family.
 
Perhaps it was because he was in the middle.
 
Nine years younger than Fraser, nine years older than Izzy.
 
Robert and Izzy were closest to him.
 
That reminded him.
 
As best man, he really ought to start thinking about Robert’s wedding.
 
It had worked out well for Fraser, who was coming home for six weeks encompassing their father’s seventieth, his brother’s stag night and wedding.

It took Carl longer than he thought to compose his email and he realised he’d run out of time.
 
Robert would have to wait too.
 
The wedding was only a few months away.
 
He hadn’t even thought about his speech and was hoping to pick someone’s brains, who’d done it before.

Carl looked at his reflection anxiously in the mirror.
 
He couldn’t quite manage to go all out and wear a suit.
 
He gave himself a shake.
 
It was only his bank manager.
 
He hurriedly scribbled a note to Lucy. “Can we have dinner together tonight?”

“Hi Carl.
 
Got your note.
 
Yes, I can be home for dinner.
 
If you’re good, I might take care of dessert,” Lucy’s voice purred at him as he drove along Great Western Rd.
 
Carl could feel himself getting worked up.
 
Lucy did that to him and then, when they did get it together, very occasionally, all his expectations were exceeded.
 
It had been a while, he realised.
 
He had been so caught up in everything else, the restaurant, family events, but then, Lucy’s schedule was hectic too.
 
He was relieved Lucy was free tonight.
 
They didn’t spend nearly enough time together.

“Hi,” Lucy flounced into the hall, swinging her Gucci bag onto the table.
 
Carl came towards her, apron on and utensils in both hands.

“Hi,” he kissed her softly.
 
But Lucy was having none of the softly softly approach.
 
Her hands slipped down to his thighs.
 
Carl groaned. He wanted to make love to her right now, but he had gone to all the trouble of making them a banquet for dinner.
 
Lucy was in playful mode.
 
Releasing him, she nipped to the bathroom, whilst Carl finished off preparing their main course.
 
He was just dishing up, when she appeared resplendent in a black basque.
 
Carl, lost, took one look at her and turned the gas off.

“I’m knackered!” Carl grinned, sweat glistening on his upper body.
 
It was always a marathon with Lucy.
 
She was insatiable, but now he was starving.
 

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” Lucy replied wantonly.

“Shall we have dinner then?” he asked tracing his finger along the curve of her bottom.

“It’s not dinner I’m hungry for,” Lucy eyed him wickedly and laughing they reached for one another again.

“You are one bad girl, Lucy Jameson,” Carl chuckled.

Two hours later, Carl did what he could to salvage dinner.
 
They lay spent on the sofa, Lucy’s blonde head on Carl’s stomach and chatted about trivial things.
 
No family or work.
 
Carl knew Lucy wasn’t taken with his family.
 
 
She thought they were too interfering.
 
Although close to her sister, Holly, she couldn’t relate to Carl’s troupe living in each other’s pockets.
 
Their careers were worlds apart and Carl guessed Lucy was fed up listening to him go over every detail about the restaurant.

“I am so looking forward to this ski trip,” Lucy enthused.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since you’ve been on holiday,” agreed Carl.
  
“In fact, it’s been a while since
we
went on holiday,” Carl realised.

“Carl, we’ve only been on holiday twice.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Lucy sighed.

“Well, we’ll need to rectify that.
 
Once the restaurant’s up and running, let’s go somewhere exotic.”

“Like where?” Lucy faced him, intrigued.

“Well, what about Maui?”

“No, full of Americans.”

“Well, what about that place we talked about before?”

“In the Maldives?”

“Yes.”

“Marangu Island,” said Lucy thoughtfully.
 
“That’s not a bad idea.
 
We should visit the Maldives now before global warming puts them underwater forever.”

“Good point.
 
I’ll look into it.
 
When do you want to go?”

“Well that’s more up to you, isn’t it?
 
The restaurant?” Lucy clarified, when Carl stared at her blankly.

“Oh yes. Well, maybe end of January?”

*

The next week came all too soon.
 
Although Carl wasn’t around much when Lucy was home, her absence affected him deeply.
 
Even her asleep in bed beside him was enough sometimes.
 
For once, Lucy was up before him, as she had an early flight.

Carl luxuriated in the shower, then started on the wedding plans. He had the speech to write and more imminently the stag night to organise.
 
They had opted for a day at Knockhill Racing Circuit followed by a night out in Edinburgh.
 

A few calls later and thirty-five guys had signed up.
 
Most of them would do the rally experience, but Robert was car mad.
 
He appreciated the beauty of the machines and was never done talking about brake horsepower.
 
Carl had suggested chipping in a few extra quid to let Robert have the Ferrari experience. The stag do would be a riot, just the thing to take his mind off the restaurant for a bit.
 
His heart, body and soul were being poured into it.
 
Hopefully once it was ticking over and he had some decent staff, matters would improve.

*

Carl missed Lucy.
 
He left her several messages, but hadn’t spoken to her in days. Maybe she hadn’t got his messages.
 
Even so,
she
might have called
him
. Carl sighed. He knew Lucy.
 
She only thought about the here and now.
 
She’d be thinking solely of her ski trip.
 
It wouldn’t occur to her he might worry.
 
OK, so she
was
Miss Well-Travelled, but you couldn’t be too careful.

Over the next few days, Carl kept himself busy.
 
He went to lunch at his parents’ again.
 
Izzy, Flora, Robert and the kids were there.

“How’s Lucy enjoying her trip?” Flora asked.

“Fine,” Carl said.

Izzy piped up, “You haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

His baby sister knew him too well.
 
Sometimes they felt more like twins than brother and sister.
 
He was annoyed with Lucy for not phoning him.
 
He also guessed that Izzy was about to get on his case and he wasn’t in the mood.

“Not now Izzy,” Carl sighed.

Izzy raised her hands in defeat, “It’s your life, Carl.”

Carl was glad when Robert came back in and they started talking about the stag do. They were staying at The Sheraton off
Lothian Road.
 
Carl had booked treatments for them and as a joke had booked Robert in for waxing.
 
Wait till his brother found
that
out.

The next day, Carl was driving to Strathblane, when his phone rang.
 
“Hi. How are you?
 
Sorry I haven’t been in touch. There was no reception.”

“Thank God, Luce.
 
I’ve been worried sick.”

He wasn’t impressed by Lucy’s statement that she didn’t ‘do’ public phones.
 
She was in Italy, en route to see Holly.
 
The conversation didn’t last long and it left him dissatisfied.