Winter's End (3 page)

“If you destroy it
Jaiden
Winston,” Hannah screamed. “I’ll break every toy you
have.”

Jai laughed. Emma
smiled. It was a hollow threat and they both knew it. Hannah adored her
 
older brother and there was nothing she would
actually do to hurt him.

“Fine, fine,” said Jai,
bringing the chopper down slowly. “Just be carefully, okay. You trashed the
last one I had.”

Her door bell chimed.
Emma quickly glanced at the clock on Hannah’s bedside table. It was two o’clock
already? She picked up the now empty laundry basket and raced down the stairs.
Tossing the basket into a lounge chair, she quickly moved to open the door.

“Mr. Collins,” she
said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Good afternoon,
Mr.s
. Winston,” he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
He was a short, pudgy man with a receding hair line. His streak of grey hair
however kind of suited him. It tend to soften the frown lines and aging
wrinkles that otherwise falsely
harshened
him in his
professionally tailored suit.

“Good afternoon, Mr.
Collins,” she replied. “Is it hot outside?” noticing him dabbing profusely at
his forehead with a plain, magenta handkerchief.

“No, not at all,” he
answered. “But you sure did find a lonely spot to move to, Mrs. Winston.”

Emma smiled. “It’s
not really that far. The nearest primary school is only ten minutes away.
You’ve come through
Portree
?”

“
Ashaig
,”
he put simply. “By charted flight.”

“Is there something
important you needed to discuss with me, Mr. Collins?” she asked slightly
worried. “I couldn’t imagine what it could have been when you called to
schedule an appointment this morning.”

“No, no,” he assured.
“There is nothing of any concern. Just procedural matters for the sale of your
property.” He took a quick glance at the cottage. “It's pretty small in
comparison,
Mr.s
. Winston. Are you sure you’re
comfortable here?”

“I am fine, Mr. Collins,”
she said. “Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”

“I’ll take one,
thanks.”

“I’ll bring it into
the study.”

“No, no,” he said.
“Let’s take it in the kitchen.”

“Are you sure?” she
asked.

“Absolutely,” he
replied, following her slowly into the kitchen.

Emma turned the
kettle on and then pulled out a couple of cups, setting them neatly onto the
table.

Mr. Collins settled
himself into a chair as he continued to study the little kitchen with an
appraising eye. The cupboard had little white wooden doors, the walls were lime
green and a pot of maidenhair fern stood at the end of the kitchen bench. A
white island took prominence at the centre of the kitchen with four white
stools lacing the length of it.

“I have your approval
then?” Emma said, noticing how he was carefully studying her cottage.

“It is small,
Mr.s
. Winston.”

“You’ve said that
before, Mr. Collins,” she said. “And it is small,
in comparison
.
Otherwise it is quite large enough for the kids and myself. And I was never the
one for entertainment.” She sighed. “That was Robert’s thing. That’s why he
bought that large mansion in London. I’ve always preferred something smaller…”
She realised she was rambling. “I’m sorry Mr. Collins,” she added quickly.
“Here you go.” She slid forward his cup of coffee. “Cream, no sugar. The way
you like it.”

Mr. Collins cleared
his throat and accepted his cup graciously. He sipped from it, the hot fluid
warming him in the inside. It felt a little comforting now that the cold from
the outside was beginning to seep into the house.

“It gets dark here
pretty quickly,” he said noticing the glow of the sun dimming in the distance.

“It’s much the same
as in London, Mr. Collins,” she said. “It’s just that we’re so busy there, we
don’t realise it… or appreciate it.” She turned to the window to watch the
setting sun.

For a brief while,
they both sat quietly enjoying the crimson rays of the sun shining through
Emma’s kitchen window. The back door slammed shut followed by a string of
argumentative young voices.

“Hello Mr. Collins,”
greeted Jai as he walked past briskly and into the living room, followed
closely at his heels by a disgruntled Hannah.

“The kids look
well-settled,” said Mr. Collins observing them. He opened his briefcase and
pulled out a file. Shuffling through the papers marked with colourful tabs
thanks to his efficient secretary, he checked them once more before handing
them over to Emma.

“Just sign and date
them wherever there’s a “Sign Here” tab,” he said.

Emma scanned them
through before accepting the pen he was offering.

 
“Those are the last of the settlement papers,”
he said watching her neatly sign off each designated slot. “Once that is
processed, the cheque will be deposited into your account and the matter should
be concluded.”

She glanced at him
before signing the last of the papers. “Why are you here, Mr. Collins?” she
said, handing back the papers.

He took the documents
from her and evened out the edges onto the table. “To settle the matter of your
property,” he answered without looking at her. He placed the documents back
into his bag. “Why else would I be here?”

Emma frowned, lifting
up an eyebrow. “If it's simply the matter of settlement, Mr. Collins, we could
have done it via a local lawyer. All you had to do was send them over.”

The old man sighed
tiredly. “Mrs. Winston, my family has been serving the
Winstons
in all their legal matters for almost four generations. I have seen the young
Winston boys born and grow into fine men. You can’t say that I don’t take a
personal interest in the welfare of Mr. Robert’s family especially now that he
isn’t any longer with us.”

Emma smiled and took
the old man’s hands in hers. “Mr. Collins, I understand the prominent respect
that you hold for Robert’s family but…” she hesitated briefly. “Did Richard
send you to check up on me?”

Mr. Collins watched
her closely with his greying eyes. He moved his hands slightly so that now he
was holding hers instead. “You must not think it as an intrusion. Mr. Richard
means well. He is worried about you and the children.”

“I am a grown woman, Mr.
Collins,” she said, withdrawing her hand in part annoyance and part tiredness.
“It’s time your Mr. Richard learns that I am perfectly capable of making my own
decisions about what becomes of me and my children.”

“
Mr.s
.
Winston..,” Mr. Collins started to protest.

“Please, sir,” she
added quickly. “Let Richard know that I do not intend to leave Skye anytime
soon. And if I ever do return to London, it will be when my children and I are
good and ready.”

It was one of those
rare days when the sun would shine over the mass of dense dark clouds. She did
not know how long the good day would last but she wanted to make the best use
of it. She drove down the highway and toward Broadford.
 
Jai sat beside her, his eyes focused on his
book. Hannah meanwhile was clearly busy as there was silence reigning in the
car, other than her occasional burst of excitements in between the beeps of her
Nintendo DS device.

Ten minutes later,
 
the row of shops and busyness of the small town
began to emerge in the distance. As Emma neared the co-op, she couldn’t help
but admire the blue of the sea that bordered the bay.

“How long are we
going to be?” asked Jai, looking at a white van pulling out of a parking bay.

“Hopefully not that
long,” she answered. “We’re short of groceries and general cleaning stuff.”

“Would it be okay if
you dropped me at the library while you’re doing the shopping,” he asked.

“Jai…,” she started.

“Please Mum,” he
said. “I really can’t be bothered following you and a trolley today.”

“Fine,” she sighed.
It might be for the best, she thought to herself. “How about you, Hannah?
Coming with Mum or staying with Jai?”

“Jai,” she replied
without looking away from her game.

Emma swung at the
turn and pulled in front of the library. “Jai, I need you to stay here until I
get back” she reminded. “Okay?”

“Yes,” he said
hopping out the door quickly in case his mother changed her mind.

“Jai?” she called out
through the window. “Stay here. And take care of your sister.”

“Mum, chill!” he shouted
back as he ran after Hannah, who was already racing through the doors of the
library. “I heard you!”

Emma watched them
disappear between the automatic doors before heading back into the main street
and towards the co-operative store. She parked at the closest parking bay she
could find. She glided out of her car and walked briskly towards the
supermarket. An elderly couple walked
 
by
her giving her a curious second glance.

She didn’t think much
of it and began her routine of hunting for items on her shopping list. A few
others smiled at her as she walked by them with her trolley. She smiled back
aware that she was now living in a much smaller part of the world than she was
used to. She was bound to get recognised sooner or later as the woman who moved
from London to
Breakish
with two kids.

“You’re the woman who
moved to
Breakish
with two kids, right?” asked the
middle aged blonde cashier. She looked Emma over with a smile as she swiped the
shopping items.

Emma returned a
small, nervous smile.

“I’m Lisa,” the
cashier said.

Emma glanced down at
her name tag. “Lisa” she read silently.

“I’m Emma,” she said
aloud.

“I live two houses
down from yours,” Lisa said. “Where did you come from?”

“London,” Emma
answered.

“London?” a weaker,
older voice answered from behind her. “I’ve been to London once. A long time
ago.”

She looked behind her
to find an old man approximately in his eighties holding a gallon of milk and a
box of cereals. His old wrinkled face held up a frown high on his forehead, a
set of spectacles sat at the end of his nose and his thinning grey hair was
slicked back. He looked back at her with steel greying eyes.

“Matthew,” Lisa
growled. “Don’t mind him,” she told Emma. “He is actually quite a sweet old man
once you get to know him. Isn’t that right, Matthew?” She gave him a side grin
as she swiped another item across her scanner.

Matthew
Allaway
harrumphed in indignation looking away. “You should
stop with the chit-chat, so I can get on my way,” he grumbled.

Lisa smiled again and
turned to Emma. “I’m at number 17. If you need anything don’t be afraid to
knock.”

“You live next to Mrs.
Kinnaird’s property then,” said the old man, his eyes giving Emma a harsh
appraisal.

“Yeah,” chirped in
Lisa quickly before Emma could answer. “I know, ” she said as she rolled up her
eyes.

Lisa put the items
into a shopping bag. “That would be a hundred and fifty three pounds and
forty-four
p’s
.”

“Do you mind if I use
a credit card?” asked Emma.

“Certainly not,” said
Lisa, pulling forward the mobile terminal and handing it over to her.

Emma punched in her
pin. “Lisa,” she asked quietly over her eyebrows. “Is there something I need to
know about
Mr.s
. Kinnaird?”

Lisa stared at her
blankly. “No,” she muttered at last. “Here’s your receipt.” She handed Emma the
small slip of paper.

Emma took it hesitantly.
She bit her lips thoughtfully as she picked up her shopping bags.

“Stay away from the
old lady,” said Matthew.

Emma turned but
Matthew was not looking at her. He was laying his gallon of milk and box of
cereal on the counter. Lisa tried to avoid Emma’s questioning stare.

“She’s trouble.
Always have been,” added Matthew, turning slightly towards her now. He gave her
the same icy cold look that he had given her earlier.

*****

It was almost three
o’clock in the evening and Emma was enjoying the last rays of sunlight as she
walked up the road. She slowed briefly at property number 27. She could see the
large white mansion in the distance. Rows of cypress lined the private road to
the estate. From what she had learnt, the vast majority of the land on this side
of the road belonged to Mrs. Kinnaird and so there wasn’t a house to be seen
for at least a mile- the one reason she loved to take her usual afternoon
stroll in this direction than the one that would lead past Lisa Johnston’s
house.

She re-assessed the
small talk she had had with Lisa and Matthew
Allaway
.
It was obvious that Lisa was uncomfortable about speaking of Mrs. Kinnaird any
more at the supermarket and Matthew seemed that he had said all that he needed
to. But there was something in the way they had spoken of her that irked her
greatly.