A Trick of the Light by Ali Carter (books for 5 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📗

‘Okay.’

I smiled and said, ‘Honestly, Fergus and Zoe will be thrilled.’

I gathered up my equipment, accepted Louis’ offer to carry the quilt, and together we dumped it all in my car.

‘You’ve got a long journey tomorrow,’ he said as I reached to shut the boot.

‘No longer than my one here.’

‘Touché.’ He jerked his head back sharply.

I was annoyed, and even more so when he grasped hold of my right arm and accused me of being off with him today.

‘Sorry,’ I relaxed. ‘I didn’t mean to be. I’m tired.’

‘That it?’ He let go.

‘Yes.’

‘So there’s no problem.’

‘Between us?’

‘Yes, between us?’

‘Not at all.’

He leant in to me and I accepted his hug. I had to, although I didn’t really want to – news of his girlfriend had put me off any more frolicking together. Not to mention seeing Toby, whose charming manner and handsome face had set the bar high. And although Louis had rival looks, he was going to have to stop cheating before I let him cross the line.

‘Bath time for me,’ I said, pulling away.

‘Together?’

‘You should be so lucky,’ I smirked and raced him up the front steps and into the house.

My suitcase is in the centre of the room, all packed and ready to go. One final night to get through, then I’ll be off, heading south, back to Sussex. Home is on the horizon and I can hardly wait.

Tonight I must make it into the locked wing. It’s my last chance to have a look for myself. I hate to think two Landseers are copies. It makes me so upset for Fergus and Zoe. But if they are, I’m mad keen to see if I can work it out. I set my alarm for 2.30am. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night. Check no one’s around and sneak into the south-east wing.

How ironic it is: if Zoe had got her way and the pictures weren’t going on loan, the Muchtons would remain blissfully unaware. Fergus seems to be coping well, though. Taking the news in his stride. Not allowing himself to entertain the notion before Jamie Tumbleton-Smith has been. Zoe is lucky to have a calm husband. What a good dad he’s going to make, only drawing conclusions about things precious to him when there’s undeniable proof.

I bounced off my bed and headed downstairs. It was dinner time. Haggis was on his back outside the dining-room door. I rubbed his tummy with my foot and sent him roly-polying down the corridor baring his teeth in a grin. Moments like this make me think I’d like a pet of my own. But no, I travel too much, it’d be unfair.

‘Now, Zoe, darling, have you explained about breakfast?’ Fergus leant into the table as if it might help carry his voice to his wife at the other end.

‘Yes,’ she smiled. ‘In here from seven, and Donald will be leaving at eight.’

‘Good, good.’

Shane was on my right, teasing Lianne about what we were eating. ‘It’s lambs’ bollocks.’

‘Nah.’

‘Pigs’ brains.’

‘Disgusting.’

‘I bet you can’t guess what it is,’ I said.

‘Yeah, Shane. Tell us what it is if you’re so clever.’

He looked at me and Giles shouted, ‘Venison,’ across the table.

‘He’s right,’ I said. It was probably the road kill.

‘I can’t believe you’ve all been tucking in not knowing what you’re eating?’.

‘I knew,’ boasted Shane. ‘I was just keeping quiet.’

‘Yeah right,’ said Lianne. ‘It is good, though.’

Rupert leant across Felicity, who was on Fergus’s left, and asked him where the name Muchton came from. I tuned in to hear the answer.

‘It originates from the Norman French, early days of the Auld Alliance and all that.’

‘It’s very unusual. I haven’t come across it before.’

‘Our family’s name is Hewson. Maybe you’ve heard of that?’ said Fergus.

‘Yes.’ Rupert nodded vigorously. ‘I think I might have.’

‘On the subject of family names, I received the most extraordinary email today. Internet hackers are getting better and better.’

‘Poor you,’ I said, gripped. I like a hacking story, they can be so clever. Felicity was all beady eyed too.

‘I’m wise enough to know better. It’s other people I feel sorry for.’

‘What was it?’ said Rupert. ‘I’d better make Jules aware. She’s not always certain what’s spam and what’s not.’

‘No need to worry,’ reassured Fergus. ‘I must have been a well-thought-out target. It came through our shooting syndicate website with the subject line “Muchtons of Auchen Laggan Tosh”. Not something your wife will receive, I’m sure.’

‘That’s not hacking,’ said Minty. ‘It’s spam.’

‘Spam or hacking, all the same to me.’

‘What did it say?’ Felicity was giddy with anticipation.

‘It began along the lines of how pleased they were to have re-established the Hewson family connection and how they hope to come poultry shooting here someday and whether we offer a discount for family. As if one would fall for that.’

Rupert gave a sneering snort and Louis asked whether the email said more.

‘Yes, so devious, I think they wanted to strike up a correspondence about art.’

‘Art?’ said Louis.

‘Yes, Landseer in particular. It went on about how pleased they are with theirs.’

Crumbs. Alarm bells are ringing in my head. Perhaps this pair own a Muchton original? But why isn’t Fergus thinking that? He’d never be telling us this if he did. Maybe he hasn’t had a call from the art dealer yet?

I wish I’d done 1471 on the landline. I could have so easily confirmed if he’d received the call.

‘And,’ said Fergus, ‘they went on to say how much they’re looking forward to the next one.’

‘I think that’s quite nice,’ said Minty. ‘It sounds as if they’re trying to be friends.’

‘Why would I want to be friends with Ethan and Chloe Hewson of Ice Lake Mansion, Canada, or so they say they are? I mean poultry shoot. Come on. Americans…’ he corrected himself, ‘Canadians can be so carelessly ignorant at times.’

Canadians struck a chord with me. Toby, oh Toby, has come up trumps, he’d suggested Canucks will buy up anything to bolster their Scottish roots. I don’t think Fergus’s email