Dolphin Bay’s answer to royalty is our Angus. He’s the Earl of Loganaich, he tells us, but the Loganaich part of him is long gone.’
‘Loganaich,’ Kirsty had said, not understanding, and the lady had needed no more encouragement to expand.
‘Apparently his family’s castle burned to the ground back in Scotland,’ she told them. ‘Lord Angus says it was a nasty, draughty place and no great loss. He’s not all that sentimental, His Lordship. Except when it comes to wearing kilts. Ooh, you should see him in a kilt. Anyway, Lord Angus and his brothers left Scotland when they were not much more than teenagers, and two of them—the two eldest—came here.’
‘Tell us about them,’ Kirsty said faintly, and the lady proceeded to do just that.
‘Lord Angus married a nurse during the war,’ she said, pointing to a community notice-board. A yellowing newspaper clipping showed an elderly lady at what seemed to be some sort of village fête. ‘That’s Deirdre, God rest her soul. A lovely, lovely lady.’ She sniffed and it was obvious to Kirsty why the fading newspaper was still on the board. This was personal loss.
‘Did they have children?’ she asked, and was met by a shake of the head that was almost fierce.
‘They had no kiddies but they were happy.’ The postmistress groped for a handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘Deirdre only died two years ago and it broke His Lordship’s heart. It broke all our hearts. And now His Lordship’s alone in his old age. Doc tells me he’s not good. Doc’s doing all he can do but there’s only so much one doctor can do.’
‘Did you say…His Lordship…had brothers?’ Kirsty asked cautiously, abandoning the tangent of an overworked doctor for the moment, and got a grimace for reply.
‘The brother we knew was a bit…erratic,’ the postmistress told them. ‘And he married a girl who was worse. They had two boys, Rory and Kenneth. The boys were born here but the family left soon after. The boys came here on school holidays, just for a bit of stability. Deirdre and Angus loved them to bits, but from what I hear Kenneth was too like his dad ever to be peaceable. Kenneth fought with Rory all the time. Finally Rory went to America to get away from him. Then a few months ago we heard he died in a car crash. His Lordship was devastated. Kenneth still visits, but he’s not liked locally. We won’t be calling him Lord Kenneth when Angus dies, that’s for sure.’ Her mouth tightened in a grim line. ‘Titles are all very well when you’re loved, like Lord Angus is, but Kenneth… Ugh.’
‘But…Angus is still an earl,’ Susie whispered, dazed by this surfeit of information, and the postmistress looked sympathetically at Susie in her wheelchair, and grimaced.
‘Seems ridiculous, doesn’t it? He doesn’t like being called it. He says just Angus is good enough for him. But we like to call him Lord Angus among ourselves—or Lord Douglas when we’re being formal. What he and Deirdre did for our town… I can’t begin to tell you. Wait till you see his house. Loganaich Castle, we call it, just joking, but the name fits. You need to find it? I’ll draw you a map.’
Rory’s Uncle Angus an earl? Loganaich Castle?
Susie had come close to going home then—and now, sitting in the car outside the extraordinary mass of gleaming stone that was the new Loganaich Castle, she turned to her twin and her eyes were as bleak as Kirsty had ever seen them.
‘Kirsty, what are we doing here? Let’s go back to America. We were dumb to come.’
‘We’ve come so far, and you know we can’t go back to America now. No airline will take you until after the baby’s born. Let’s find a bed for the night and come back in the morning.’
‘Let’s go back to Sydney in the morning.’
‘Susie, no. You can’t lose every link with Rory.’
‘I already have. And you heard the postmistress. Rory had lost any link to his uncle.’
‘Rory spoke of Angus and his aunt with affection. The postmistress said Angus was devastated to learn Rory was dead. You have to see him.’
‘No.’
‘Susie, please…’
‘The gates are opening again,’ Susie said, in a voice that said she didn’t care. ‘Someone’s coming out. We need to move.’
Kirsty turned to see. There was a dusty Land Rover emerging from the forecourt out onto the cobbled driveway leading to the road. Kirsty had driven as close as possible so Susie could watch her as she’d knocked, and the cobblestones were only a car-width wide. Their car was blocking the driveway—meaning the Land Rover had to stop and wait for them to move.
The gates were swinging closed again now behind the Land Rover. This was apparently a castle with every modern convenience. Electronic sensors must be overriding manual operations.
There was still no access.
OK. They’d go. Kirsty started the engine, and then glanced one last time at the Land Rover.
The man who’d slammed the gate on her was at the wheel. His lanky brown dog was sitting beside him. The dog’s dumb, goofy—almost grinning—face was at odds with the man’s expression of grim impatience. His fingers were drumming on the steering-wheel as he waited for her to move.
She hesitated.
The fingers drummed.
The man looked angry as well as impatient.
He wasn’t alone in his anger. Kirsty glanced across at her sister. She wouldn’t get Susie back here tomorrow, she thought. Susie’s expression was one of hopelessness.
Where was the laughing, bubbly Susie of a year ago?
Kirsty wanted her back. Fiercely, desperately, Kirsty mourned her twin.
Her anger doubled. Quadrupled.
Exploded.
She killed the engine.
‘What…?’ Susie started, but Kirsty was already out of the car. Her car was half off the cobblestones and there was a puddle right beside the driver’s door. She’d climbed out carefully last time but this time she forgot about the puddle. She squelched in mud to her ankle.
She hardly noticed. How dared he drum his fingers at her?
In truth her anger was caused by far more than merely drumming fingers, but the fingers had a matching face, a target for the pent-up grief and frustration and fear of the last few months. Too much emotion had to find a vent somewhere.
The drumming fingers were it.
She marched up to the Land Rover, right to the driver’s side. She hauled open the door of the vehicle so hard she almost yanked it off its hinges.
‘Right,’ she told him. ‘Get out. I want some answers and I want them now.’
He should have been home two hours ago.
Dr Jake Cameron had spent the entire day sorting out trouble, and he had more trouble in front of him before he could go home that night. As well as the medicine crowding at him from all
