Saving Nathaniel (23 page)

Short and…not so sweet.

'
I see,'
was all he said.

'
I
'
m sorry I couldn
'
t give you more notice.
'

'
It
'
s fine, don
'
t worry about it.
What day is it today?'

'Wednesday.'

With a sage nod of his head, he drew out a thoughtful,
'Riiiight.'

She
waited for him to say something more, but he had returned his attention to the screen. Whatever he was studying on there was obviously far more important than anything she had to say.

'
I
'
ll make sure everything
'
s all in order,' she said. 'The changeover will be as smooth as it can be.
'

He said nothing.

'
You
'
ll never even notice the difference.'

He kept his eyes fixed on the screen.

'
Fine then. As long as you
'
re happy. I'm sorry to have bothered you when you are obviously so busy.'

She had taken her first steps towards leaving when h
e spoke up and halted her egress. 'You know
I
'
ve always been more than happy with you…your work, Meg,' he said, taking off his glasses and closing the lid of the computer. '
Y
ou
'
ve done an excellent job. I have no complaints whatsoever.
'

She turned back. 'You did. You sacked me, remember?'

He smiled. 'For all of ten minutes.'

'It won't look good on my resumé.'

'That's because you came back.'

She scratched at her head. 'I very nearly didn't. One more minute and I would have been gone…probably for good.'

'And left me on my own?'

'You drove me to distraction, Nat. You were being unreasonable, irrational, perverse, obtuse...'

'What you are trying to say is that I would have deserved it?'

'Yes, indeed you would, with bells on.'

He swivelled his chair from side to side. 'I've never before had anyone speak to me like you do. I've always been used to getting my own way.'

'So I noticed, but I've always been of the belief that if something needs to be said, to say it, even if it hurts.'

'I found
that
out the hard way, didn't I?'

'But did you take
any
heed of anything I said?'

He shook his head. 'No.'

'So, all in all, it was a complete waste of effort and air?'

He gave a resigned smile. 'Aye, I'm a hopeless case.'

'Well, Rebecca is nowhere near as vocal as I am
and once you've settled back into your old routine, you'll be able to do exactly as you please again. You can have it all your own way without me breathing down your neck and putting my two penn
'
orth in.
'

He touched his head to the back of the chair.
'I
'
m not sure there is an old routine any more.
'

'
It's still there, and you'll fall right back into it, and all my interference will soon be forgotten.
'

'
Your interference has kept me in order.
'

'
Rebecca will look after you, or she'll have me to answer to.'

He sat up again, his expression earnest. '
And what if she doesn
'
t? Will you come back?
'
When she didn't answer him, he asked again.
'
Will
you come back?
'

She already knew,
once she left Struan there was a very good chance she would never set foot in the house again.
'
No, Nat, I won't.
'

He
had known all along this day would come, and now it had, he couldn't think of anything useful to say to her. He didn't want her to leave, he had become fond of her, but he had already twice asked her to stay and she had twice refused. There was no point in asking again - an agreement was an agreement. She had to go and Rebecca had to come back; that had been the deal. She was loyal to her sister, and he respected her for it. All he could realistically do was thank her and let her go. Perhaps, he thought, if she left, it might be for the best for both of them. He wasn't convinced by his own thought.

Her
last day in Nat's employ arrived.

She didn't get to Struan until mid morning. She had errands in town and had gone directly there. When she finally did get to the house, toting some last minute groceries and Nat's dry cleaning, he had already left for meetings at his office.

He didn't come home until gone six o
'
clock in the evening. He found Megan sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him.

'
I didn't think I'd get to see you today,' she said. 'I've been waiting. I didn't want to go without saying goodbye.'

'
I got delayed, I'm sorry.'

'
Everything
'
s done
,' she said, unfolding her coat from the back of her chair. '
I don
'
t think I
'
ve forgotten anything
and if I have, it can wait until Monday and Rebecca can do it.'

'
I know you won't have.'
He took her coat from her and held it as she shrugged it on.

'Thank you, always the gentleman.'

She bent her head forward as she fastened the buttons, and Nat allowed his fingers to touch her hair. 'Meg
?'

She looked up to him, expectantly.

'I, erm, have to say…thank you
…
for everything. I mean it, and I
'
m
…
I
'
m going to miss you.'

'
It's very sweet of you to say so, Nat, and I
'
m going to miss you too. Working here's been…quite an experience.
'

'
A good one I hope.'

'
For the most part.'

'
Then I apologise for the parts that weren't so good.'

She put her hand against his cheek feeling the roughness of weekend stubble coming through.
'
You will take proper care of yourself won't you, Nat?
'

He nodded. '
I will.
'

'You'll
eat properly
?'

'
I will.
'

'
And make sure you get enough sleep
?'

'
I will.
'

'
And don
'
t work too hard
.'

'
I won
'
t.
'

'
And please, try not to do anything reckless or silly.
'

'
I
'
ll
…
try.
'

And call me if you need me, she thought, but couldn't bring herself to say.

She wanted so much to kiss him. A small farewell peck on the cheek could not do any harm, but she didn
't trust herself to stop there. It took all her self control not to do it.

''
Bye, Nat,' she said, holding out her hand for a parting handshake. He took it and enclosed it with both his own.

'
Cheerio, Meg.
'

They held hands for just a second longer than was necessary, before she let go and walked away.

For a long time, Nat stood looking at the door she had closed on him, still feeling her hand on his face. Without her presence, the house fell into the deep cheerless quiet he had come to hate.

Chapter 20

Megan spread the travel brochures out on the table in front of her, and sipped at her coffee as she perused them.

Somewhere sunny, not too hot and where they speak English…

Since leaving her employment at Struan, she had had to endure Rebecca's constant complaints about how standards had slipped and that jobs had been skimped on or missed altogether. Her enquiries about Nat had been met with a casual, '
He's fine,'
or '
The usual,'
and she was seriously considering taking a holiday as a distraction. She could just about afford something not too extravagant.

Rebecca had gone out for the day with Paul and they weren't expected back until late evening, but the peace and quiet of a Saturday afternoon alone was broken with the ringing of the telephone. She answered it with a bright, 'Hello, Rose Cottage,' only to be met with silence. She hung up.

Wrong number?

Less than a minute later, it rang again and once more she received no reply. She hung up.

Dial properly, moron.

It happened three more times. On the fourth occasion of being interrupted, her displeasure was patent.

'I've just about had enough of this,' she shouted into the phone. 'Ring me again and I'll give your number to the police. Now fuck off and leave me alone.' She slammed the receiver into its cradle. 'Pervert!'

She waited for the phone to ring again, fully prepared now to give the caller a piece of her mind. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and finally half an hour had gone by without another call. Her annoyance abated, to be replaced with curiosity.

Finding a pencil in the drawer, she picked up the receiver and dialled 1471. The synthesised female voice read out the last number to have called her, and she scribbled it on a piece of paper tacked to the notice board. As she wrote, she found she was copying a number already there, and immediately a deep, disturbing apprehension filled her.

She pressed
'3'
to connect to the number, only to hear the line engaged tone. She replaced the receiver, gathered her bag and car keys, and on her way out, grabbed Rebecca's keys to Struan Lodge from the hook by the door.

She drew up the driveway and parked in the shadow of Nat's massive vehicle.

Letting herself into the Lodge she went directly through into the hallway. She stood and listened. Hearing not a sound from anywhere in the house, she called out.

'Nat!'

There was no answer. She called up the stairs.

'Nat, are you here?'

No reply.

The study door stood ajar. Tentatively pushing it further open, she peeped through. When she spotted a pair of dirty, bare feet protruding from beyond the old leather chair, she felt her throat tighten and her heart began to pound as a primitive terror grew in her. She pushed the door fully open and went further into the room. The sight that met her brought her to a dead stop.

He was sitting on the bare floorboards in front of the window seat, his legs straight out in front of him, his arms hanging limp at his sides, hands resting on the floor. His head lolled back on the seat. From her angle of view, she couldn't see his face. She edged closer; she had to see.

Oh God, please be alright…please be alright…please be alright…

His eyes were half open, but seeing nothing, and his mouth hung slackly agape, a trickle of saliva sliding out from the corner.

Is he dead? Oh, please, dear Lord, don't let him be dead…

She laid her hand on his chest and held it there. When she felt it move, she breathed a sigh of relief and her panic diminished. Up close, the smell of alcohol was overpowering. Nat was alive, but completely smashed. She shook him gently by the shoulder.

'Nat?'

No reaction. She raised her voice a little and shook him harder.

'Nat?'

He made a sound deep in his throat.

'Nathaniel! Wake UP!' She slapped his face, harder than she intended, but it had the desired effect. Very slowly, the half open eyes blinked and his throat moved in a convulsive swallow.

'Ow!' he groaned and lifted his hand to his slapped cheek.

He blinked hard several times, rubbed his eyes and made a futile attempt to lift his head off the seat. He might as well have tried to move a sack of flour. His head wobbled unsteadily and he rolled his eyes in Megan's general direction.