Rachel's Coming Home (15 page)

‘No, no,' said Rachel, realising that she was being pathetic. ‘Don't worry about me, I'll manage.' She took Pixie away with her, to use as a living hot water bottle. Even so, it took a long time before she was warm and calm enough to sleep.

Chapter Twelve

Philip decided to call in on the Collingtons the day after Rachel had come for a meal. He had enjoyed her company even more than he had anticipated and had only been sad that she had left so early. Now he remembered her father's open invitation to drop in and decided to this was a good time to take him up on it. Usually he was reticent about calling on people unannounced, but his desire to see Rachel outweighed any worries. Amelia also thought this an excellent idea and they set off soon after breakfast.

He was stunned to find the house in chaos, water lying in puddles in the downstairs rooms, and the whole family looking rather the worse for wear.

‘Goodness, what has happened?'

It was John Collington who explained about the flash flood from the stream that normally ran behind and beside the property. ‘No real harm done,' he concluded heartily. ‘No damage to life or limb at least.'

‘Sorry we can't offer you tea or coffee,' said Rachel, pushing hair from her eyes with a tired gesture. ‘We're still without power and we need electricity to pump the oil to the Aga so even that isn't working.'

‘You should have phoned, you could all have come and stayed at Courockglen,' exclaimed Philip, surprising even himself with his generosity.

‘We couldn't leave the dogs,' said Rachel quickly.

‘We have an electrician arriving any time now,' said her father. ‘We'll be fine. I've managed to persuade Maggie to stay in bed, it's the warmest place for her. Rachel and Anthony and I will soon have this place shipshape.'

‘Actually, I've got to go to work in half an hour,' said Anthony. He seemed the least perturbed by all the upset. ‘I suppose I could phone the hotel and see if they can manage without me, but I don't want to let them down so soon after I've started. And I did say I'd give Gemma a lift.'

‘You go, we'll be fine,' said his father.

Rachel sighed. For the first time since Philip had met her she seemed vulnerable, and the sight of her pale, strained face did something very strange to his heart. ‘You certainly will,' he said firmly. ‘Because Amelia and I are going to help, aren't we, Melie? The first thing I'm going to do is go back home and make some flasks of coffee. Once you've had that you'll all feel much better.'

‘You don't need to …' said Rachel doubtfully.

‘Very much appreciate the offer,' said her father, smiling now. ‘And perhaps you should change into something that won't get damaged by all this filth?'

Philip nodded his agreement and departed.

Philip had forgotten how much fun sheer physical hard work could be. He had paid people to clean and redecorate Courockglen House, thinking he didn't have time for such things himself. Now he wondered if he wouldn't have felt closer to the place if he had put in a little more effort.

The first part of the day was spent sweeping out the awful mud that covered all of the ground floor. Then he and Rachel began to pull up the ruined carpets whilst John turned his attention to the kennels. These were his priority. Fortunately they had been less affected and by the nature of their design were easier to put to rights. He took Amelia with him to ‘keep the dogs amused', something which she delighted in.

‘You really don't need to put yourself out like this,' said Rachel when they took a rest after heaving the living room carpet outside. ‘It's very kind of you, but we don't want to be a nuisance.'

‘You're not a nuisance,' said Philip. ‘Isn't this what neighbours are for?'

True enough a number of nearish neighbours had come by to see how they were fairing, one had arranged a skip and another brought sandwiches. Only Freddy Smith had made no contact. The Collingtons, in their good-natured way, had worried if he too had had problems. Anthony had offered to go and find out and had reported that the farmhouse was unscathed and the farmer not very pleased to see him, although Gemma had been happy to take her lift into town.

‘You're not exactly a neighbour,' said Rachel to Philip with a faint smile. ‘Courockglen House is a fair way away.'

‘I'm a neighbour and a friend,' he said firmly and was rewarded by a brighter smile this time.

It was all going so well, and then Philip began to have his doubts. Rachel was looking pale and wan, but she refused to lean on him. She was punctilious about doing all she could herself, and after that first day she was so discouraging about him ‘wasting his time' helping them that he started to feel he was imposing. Her attitude brought back all his old doubts. Perhaps he was better off on his own, taking the little successes he could manage, not putting his heart at risk. Letting in affection for Amelia had made him think he could open himself up to other things, too. Now he wasn't so sure.

The final straw was when Charlie McArthur called round on the Sunday, ostensibly to check on the dogs who had been in the kennels during the floods.

‘They're all absolutely fine, you did exactly the right thing,' he said approvingly to the Collingtons, having done his round.

‘Thank goodness for that,' said John. ‘We did our best, but you're never sure, are you? And most people have been very understanding, but one or two we couldn't get hold of on the phone so I just hope they haven't been worrying.'

‘Most people trust you implicitly to look after their dogs,' said Rachel. ‘After all, there has only been one owner with anything to complain about since the kennels opened.' She glanced meaningfully at Philip and he felt hurt. It had been worrying for him when Ben had been injured. He didn't feel he had over-reacted but he suspected she did.

‘It's so good of you to come out,' she said, smiling now at Charlie. She seemed perfectly happy to accept help from him.

‘I wanted to see how you were,' said the vet, smiling warmly back. That was enough for Philip. He wasn't going to make a fool of himself. He and Amelia left very soon after.

‘I've got an idea,' said Anthony. It was ten days or so since the flood and things were slowly getting back to a sort of normality.

He and Rachel were unloading sacks of dog food from the car and he had paused at the door of the store room.

‘What kind of idea?' asked Rachel.

‘Come in here for a minute and I'll tell you.' He had lowered his voice to a whisper and waited till she was inside the tiny room before he spoke again. ‘You know it's Dad's sixtieth birthday soon?'

‘Yes, in three weeks' time.'

‘Well, I thought, why don't we have a party for him? Things have been a bit grim recently and I thought a party would really cheer us all up.'

Rachel stared at her brother in amazement. ‘That's a really good idea.'

‘You don't need to sound so surprised,' said Anthony.

‘Well, I am. What on earth made you think of it?'

‘Actually, it was something that happened at work. The main restaurant was taken over for a sixtieth birthday party last night. It had been arranged as a secret and you could tell the guy they had done it for was really chuffed. It made me think.'

‘It's an excellent idea,' said Rachel, grinning broadly. ‘I wonder if we should do it as a surprise or not? We'll have to ask Mum and see what she thinks. It'll be fun. You're a genius. I'll tell her you thought of it.'

‘As long as you do all the organising,' said Anthony quickly, showing that he hadn't changed all that much.

‘Of course. You don't need to worry about that. I suppose we'd better go back outside or Dad is going to wonder what on earth's happened to us.'

As they made their way back across the yard, which still looked rather bare from the scouring water, Anthony cleared his throat and said, ‘By the way …'

‘Mmm?'

‘I went round to see Rupert Randall yesterday.'

Rachel swung round to stare at him. ‘You did? But I thought you were dead against him. I even phoned and explained to him I'd got the wrong end of the stick …'

‘You hadn't, really,' said Anthony apologetically. ‘I just felt you were interfering.'

‘I suppose I was.'

‘Well, anyway,' said Anthony, shrugging off that topic. ‘I thought I'd go and see him. He's a really genuine guy. And it doesn't seem impossible for me to spend some time with him and still do this hotel job. I'm going to go round on Monday and we'll see.'

‘That's great.'

‘Yeah. Just thought I'd tell you.'

Anthony ambled off and Rachel was left staring after him. There was no doubt about it, her little brother was growing up at last.

Rachel waited for a chance to discuss Anthony's idea of a birthday party with her mother, but every time she was in the house her father seemed to be there too. The insurance company's assessors had been to view the flood damage and now they were in the ‘drying out' stage before they could think of putting everything back to rights. Her father was doing what he could to make the kitchen usable, meantime.

‘It could have been worse,' said her mother, one of her favourite expressions. They had paused for a cup of tea mid-afternoon. ‘Your father's idea of using the flagstones in here and the hall and conservatory has meant these floors are virtually unscathed.'

‘Pity about the skirtings and the lower parts of the walls,' said Rachel. ‘They'll definitely need replacing.'

‘But with the Aga being set on its plinth, that too has come through very well,' said her mother. ‘And now the electricity is back on I'm going to get a replacement fridge. We'll be able to function very nicely.'

‘It's a shame about that other fridge, it was nearly new wasn't it?' Rachel sighed. There was still so much to do. Despite her parents' optimism she worried they wouldn't have it all back to normal before winter.

‘I'm sorry you've had to put up with all this,' said her mother. ‘Not at all what you expected when you came back home.'

‘I don't mind for me,' protested Rachel quickly. ‘It's just such a shame, after all your hard work.'

‘These things happen,' said her father. ‘We were just unlucky. Highest August rainfall in a century, or so they say. And all in the last week.'

Rachel suddenly recalled the digger she had seen high up on Freddy Smith's land. She couldn't help wondering if any work he had done there had added to their problems. She had meant to go back up and have a look for herself. In the meantime, she didn't like to mention it to her parents.

‘Philip hasn't been round for a few days,' said her mother, watching Rachel's face. ‘He was a great help at the beginning. I hope he doesn't think we were taking advantage, using his house for showers and so on.'

‘He offered,' said Rachel, but she too was wondering what had caused this silence. They had seemed to be getting on so well. Maybe he was just moody. If so, they were better off without him. She was sure that was the right opinion. She just wished she didn't think about him quite so much.

‘Wonderful place he's got there,' said her father. ‘I bet it's got a fascinating history of its own.' He grinned. He had clearly enjoyed the chats he had had with Philip, who'd seemed to prefer his company to anyone else in the family's. ‘If he can't find out, no one can. Quite an impressive young man.'

‘You haven't heard anything from him?' Maggie asked her daughter.

‘No I haven't.' Then Rachel realised she might have been a little abrupt. ‘No reason why I should have, of course. He's probably busy catching up with work on his book, after spending all that time here.'

Her mother nodded in a way that made Rachel worry. She was quite pleased when her father went out to walk some dogs and she could change the subject to the possible birthday party. Her mother thought the idea was brilliant and Rachel made sure they kept the conversation on that for the rest of the afternoon.

‘Are we going to go and see Rachel today?' asked Amelia. She had been asking the same question for days.

Philip sighed. He would love to go and see Rachel too, but he didn't know whether she would be pleased to see them. She had been punctilious about thanking him for all his help after the flood, but her gratitude towards Charlie McArthur had been far warmer. And the longer he left it before getting in touch, the more awkward he feared it would be.

‘I want to go and see Rachel,' said Amelia. She clearly wasn't going to give up.

‘Maybe we'll go over later on, see how they're doing.' Philip wanted to go too, if he could have been sure of his reception.

‘I'd like that.'

‘But this morning we're going to go shopping. Remember we were going to choose something for you to take back as a present for you mother?'

‘Yes.' Amelia gave a little skip of pleasure. She was a different child from the one who had arrived all those weeks ago. ‘I want to get her something really nice.'

They went to Moffat rather than Boroughbie. It was a touristy town with plenty of gift shops for Amelia to browse in. It also meant a drive past Collington Kennels, so provided the ideal excuse for dropping in on their way home.

Philip was starting to get used to the local way of doing things. The slower pace of life, the way you had to have a little chat in every shop. Even in the massive Woollen Mill centre, which specialised in Scottish knitwear, the staff were happy to stop and talk.

‘Terrible weather it's been, hasn't it?' said one little round woman. It was quite a common opening gambit. ‘Are you here on holiday? I hope you've seen
some
sunshine.'

‘I'm on holiday,' said Amelia, her voice still soft but no longer so shy. ‘I'm going home soon and I'm going to buy a present for my mummy.'