Rachel's Coming Home (20 page)

Freddy looked at Anthony as though he had never seen him before, and would rather it had stayed that way. ‘Aren't you going to college, boy?'

‘No. I, er, decided not to.'

‘Why? I can't see there's anything to keep you here.' The way Freddy looked around his parents pretty, tidy home made Anthony seethe. This was a great place!

Gemma spoke quickly before he could say something out of turn. ‘Anthony is working with a local artist. Rupert Randall, do you remember I mentioned him to you? He's quite well known and he's taken on Anthony as a kind of apprentice.'

Anthony felt this was stretching the truth a little, but was flattered all the same.

‘You don't look the arty type,' said Freddy, looking him up and down.

‘How would you feel about doing a bit of work for my dad?' Gemma asked Anthony, as though they hadn't discussed this before. ‘It would be a real help to us.'

‘I'm managing fine,' said her father abruptly.

‘I wouldn't mind,' said Anthony. He thought he would mind, a lot. But if Gemma wanted him to give it a try he would.

‘Anthony's very good with animals,' said Gemma encouragingly. ‘He does a lot with the dogs here, as you can imagine.'

‘Ah, dogs.' Her father's expression turned from annoyance to anger in a second. ‘Yes, your family are all very good with
dogs
, aren't they? Can't keep them under control, can't keep their owners happy. That's what I hear. Don't know why you bother anyway. Nasty, useless beasts so they are.'

Rachel had been eyeing Freddy Smith from a distance. She didn't want to cause a scene at her father's party, but it did seem like a good opportunity to have a word with him, when he couldn't actually refuse to speak to her. Gemma and Anthony seemed to be trying to engage him in conversation themselves, but whatever it was they were discussing didn't seem to be finding favour with the man. Rachel wondered, grimly, whether anything ever did.

She had been avoiding Philip Milligan by the simple expedient of moving to the further side of the party from wherever he happened to be. Now she spotted him heading towards her and decided to join Freddy's little group. She was just in time to hear him spitting out something about dogs. ‘… Nasty useless beasts so they are.'

His tone was furious and he glared at the line of kennels with such venom that Rachel almost quailed.

Then she realised this was just the opportunity she was waiting for.

‘Is that our kennels you're discussing?' she asked pleasantly.

All three of the little group jumped at the sound of her voice, so engrossed were they in their own discussion.

Anthony gave her a meaningful look she couldn't interpret. ‘We're fine, just having a little chat.'

Freddy Smith turned to Rachel. ‘I was just saying I don't know why you bother with a business like this. What good does it do anyone? It's not like you're producing anything, are you?'

‘My parents provide a very valuable service to dog owners,' replied Rachel.

‘Providing a luxury for a luxury. What do these people want dogs for? It's not as if they're working animals for most people. At least there is a reason for a good sheep dog …'

‘Not that we've even got a sheep dog,' said Gemma, interrupting before he could get into full flow. ‘I would have quite liked one but …'

Anthony nodded to her, as though he understood what she was saying. None of it made any sense to Rachel.

‘Mr Smith,' she said, waiting for the man to meet her eyes. ‘Can I ask you something?'

‘Ask? Ask? Ask away for all I care.' All the same, the man seemed uncomfortable now, aware they were attracting attention.

‘I want to know whether you might have done anything that might have, ah, been detrimental to the kennels? You know, caused us one or two problems?' Rachel was playing this by ear. She hardly knew what she was accusing the man of, just that something here was not right.

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

She said carefully, ‘The drainage work you've been doing, for a start. That directed an awful lot more water than usual into the Inshie Burn and you must have realised that would all come down this way.'

‘The Inshie Burn? Are you saying I caused that flood? If I had so much control over the weather, believe me, I'd be delighted. But I can't control a freak of nature. Anyone would know that.'

‘And that's not the only thing,' continued Rachel, determined now to see this through. ‘What about the surprise visit from the animal welfare people? Someone must have put them on to that.'

‘I know when I see an animal not being looked after properly. All that barking, stands to reason there were problems here.'

Rachel stared at him. ‘So it was you!'

‘Only doing my duty,' he hissed back, ignoring the horrified gasp from his daughter. ‘If everything was being run properly here you would have had nothing to worry about.'

‘We did have nothing to worry about. The inspectors were perfectly happy! But it really upset my parents. Have you no idea what this is doing to them?'

‘They should have thought about that,' said the man grimly. ‘Running the kennels is one thing, but taking in strays is bound to start people talking.'

Rachel shook her head, amazed at what she was hearing. ‘So all the bad publicity we've been getting, all the rumours, they didn't just happen, did they? It was you!'

Rachel could see Philip Milligan approaching from one side and her father from the other but she couldn't stop now. ‘What have you got to say about that, Mr Smith?'

Freddy caught sight of the tall, dark figure of Philip and his eyes narrowed. ‘It wasn't
me
that told the world about your kennels being flooded out, scaring the daylights out of your soft dog owners. It was your
friend
here. He's the one who has been spreading rumours, if that's what you want to call them.'

Anthony, Gemma and Rachel all swung round to Philip. Rachel expected an instant denial but instead Philip hesitated. He was definitely looking uncomfortable. ‘Yes, well, it wasn't quite like that.'

‘You caused us all those problems with Pixie's owners?' Rachel couldn't believe it.

‘So you see, I'm not the only one who has problems with this so-called business of yours,' said Freddy. He seemed relieved now he wasn't the one under the spotlight of Rachel's attention. ‘Don't you try to blame it all on me.'

Whatever Rachel had expected from the celebration to mark her father's sixtieth, it wasn't this. She was stunned. Freddy Smith was clearly in some way connected with the kennels difficulties, he hadn't denied that. But to think it was Philip who had caused the latest blow that had hit her father so cruelly. She couldn't believe it. She had thought he was their friend, she really had.

‘I can explain,' said Philip, still looking horrified.

‘I need to go,' said Rachel. ‘Food … Mum needs help … Please excuse me.' She ducked back into the house before anyone could stop her.

Chapter Sixteen

Philip couldn't believe he was making such a mess of things. He had returned from London with high hopes for the future. Suddenly it all seemed to have evaporated. Rachel wasn't speaking to him. Her parents, although polite as ever, were clearly hurt. And despite the fact he had been looking forward to having the house to himself again, it felt lonely, no longer like home.

He took Bill and Ben for a walk through the early morning mist to try and clear his head. It was beautiful, with the leaves of the trees turning from rich greens to golden yellows and fiery reds, but his heart wasn't able to appreciate it.

He couldn't focus on anything except the feeling that everything was going wrong. And the more he thought about it, the more all his – and the Collingtons' – difficulties seemed to involve Freddy Smith. There was only one thing for it, to beard the man himself and sort it out.

He was going to take Bill and Ben with him but remembered at the last minute the farmer's strange dislike of dogs. He hugged them and apologised for leaving them behind and set off alone.

Inshie Heights Farm was set higher on the hillside than the Collingtons' cottage, which was hidden from it by a line of trees. It was a medium-sized building, tidily maintained but without a homely touch.

Philip parked his 4x4 at the front of the house and rang the bell. There was no response. He went around to the kitchen door and knocked. Still no response. Then he paused and listened to what might have been the sound of a quad bike. Yes, and it was becoming louder. Freddy must have been out in the fields but with a bit of luck he was on his way back. Philip strode to the foot of the track and waited.

Freddy would have been able to see him for a while as he descended the rough road, but he made no gesture of greeting. When he reached him he paused the vehicle but didn't turn off the engine. ‘Aye? What can I do for you?'

‘I wondered if we could have a chat?'

The farmer narrowed his eyes, displeased. Philip waited. He could be patient.

‘I don't know that I've anything to say to you. Unless it's about the car accident. Did they ever find the blighter that bashed you?'

Philip had forgotten all about that. He had other things on his mind. He said reluctantly, ‘It's not about that, although I should have thanked you for your help. And yes, they did find the other vehicle. The police had a word with the man and he decided to come clean, so I can claim off his insurance, not my own. A very good outcome.'

‘That's the way it should be,' said Freddy, mellowing slightly. He nodded. ‘Come on down, if you want to talk.' He pressed the accelerator and swung the quad bike away, not waiting for an answer.

Philip followed him more slowly, wondering now what exactly it was he wanted to say.

Freddy didn't take him into the house. He stowed the quad in a lean-to shed and then leant on the wall beside it.

‘You must be missing your daughter; she's away at university now, isn't she?' Philip said, trying to break the ice.

‘I manage fine. Nice to have a bit of peace, no more of this running backwards and forwards into town.'

‘Yes, peace can be good,' said Philip encouragingly. ‘That's why I moved to this part of the country myself. Lovely quiet corner, almost unknown compared to the Highlands.' Freddy had begun to move off now, closing one of the doors to a barn, checking on the contents of another. Philip followed him.

‘Whether it's quiet or not depends on your neighbours, doesn't it?' said Freddy eventually.

This was just the opening Philip was hoping for. ‘I would have said you're very lucky with your neighbours. A very nice family, the Collingtons.'

‘I've nothing against the family,' said Freddy grudgingly. ‘But that damn silly business they're running there is the problem. It's an eyesore, not to mention the noise.'

Philip remembered listening as he waited for Freddy to appear. He hadn't heard a single bark. ‘I'd say an eyesore is the last thing it is,' he said mildly. ‘I think the whole set up is very attractive. I really don't know what you've got against them.'

Freddy glared now, his dark face taking on an even grimmer light. ‘I came here to get away from things, didn't I? Came to make a new start for Gemma and me. The last thing I needed was something like that on my doorstep, reminding me.'

‘Reminding you?' Philip was puzzled.

‘Everyone thinks those Collingtons are so wonderful, taking in rescue dogs, joining every committee in town. I can see you're taken with them too, aren't you? Especially that pretty young woman. You'd better watch out for her, always meddling where she's not wanted.'

‘Rachel doesn't meddle,' said Philip, wondering if that was quite true. Freddy had moved off again, towards the slurry pit this time, and he hurried after him. ‘Look, I'm sorry you don't really like them as neighbours. But surely that's no reason to cause them difficulties? They're just trying to make a living like anyone else. And Maggie Collington hasn't been well. It's a shame if she has to worry.'

‘Nobody worries about me, do they?' said Freddy, raising his voice now. He straightened a rusty sign that said ‘Danger' with an abrupt gesture. ‘The Collingtons have got each other. Nobody cares that I lost my wife, for no reason, no reason at all.'

‘I'm sorry …' said Philip, stunned by this turn in the conversation.

‘Everyone's sorry, they all say they're sorry, but that doesn't help, does it? I just don't want to be reminded, don't you understand? I can't bear to be reminded!' Freddy took hold of Philip's arm, shaking him quite violently as though this would make him understand.

Philip took a step back and suddenly found the ground beneath his feet giving way. They were on the very edge of the slurry pit, and Philip had his eyes on the other man, not on where he was standing. He could feel himself slipping and then he was falling down, down, towards the dark liquid and that awful stench.

Rachel had gone to the dog rescue centre near Dumfries with a box of food from her mother. Clients quite often brought their dogs' own food to the kennels and just as often declined to take any surplus away. The Collingtons passed this on to the rescue centre, along with, Rachel suspected, quite a bit they had paid for themselves.

Rachel always enjoyed a visit to the centre, situated as it was on the slopes above the Solway Firth. The views were spectacular but most of all she loved the people who ran the place and the wonderful spirit that kept them going with very little funding and far too many unwanted dogs.

She had a cup of tea with Faye and agreed to ask her mum to bake some cakes for the upcoming Bring and Buy sale. ‘We really need some more income,' said the older woman with a sigh. ‘Not that I ever know quite how much money we have coming in and going out. I wish I was better with the book-keeping.'