Winter's End Part 2

"It is small, Mr.s. Winston."

"You've said that before, Mr. Collins," she said. "And it is small, in comparison. Otherwise it is quite large enough for the kids and myself. And I was never the one for entertainment." She sighed. "That was Robert's thing. That's why he bought that large mansion in London. I've always preferred something smaller..." She realised she was rambling. "I'm sorry Mr. Collins," she added quickly. "Here you go." She slid forward his cup of coffee. "Cream, no sugar. The way you like it."

Mr. Collins cleared his throat and accepted his cup graciously. He sipped from it, the hot fluid warming him in the inside. It felt a little comforting now that the cold from the outside was beginning to seep into the house.

"It gets dark here pretty quickly," he said noticing the glow of the sun dimming in the distance.

"It's much the same as in London, Mr. Collins," she said. "It's just that we're so busy there, we don't realise it... or appreciate it." She turned to the window to watch the setting sun.

For a brief while, they both sat quietly enjoying the crimson rays of the sun s.h.i.+ning through Emma's kitchen window. The back door slammed shut followed by a string of argumentative young voices.

"h.e.l.lo Mr. Collins," greeted Jai as he walked past briskly and into the living room, followed closely at his heels by a disgruntled Hannah.

"The kids look well-settled," said Mr. Collins observing them. He opened his briefcase and pulled out a file. Shuffling through the papers marked with colourful tabs thanks to his efficient secretary, he checked them once more before handing them over to Emma.

"Just sign and date them wherever there's a "Sign Here" tab," he said.

Emma scanned them through before accepting the pen he was offering.

"Those are the last of the settlement papers," he said watching her neatly sign off each designated slot. "Once that is processed, the cheque will be deposited into your account and the matter should be concluded."

She glanced at him before signing the last of the papers. "Why are you here, Mr. Collins?" she said, handing back the papers.

He took the doc.u.ments from her and evened out the edges onto the table. "To settle the matter of your property," he answered without looking at her. He placed the doc.u.ments back into his bag. "Why else would I be here?"

Emma frowned, lifting up an eyebrow. "If it's simply the matter of settlement, Mr. Collins, we could have done it via a local lawyer. All you had to do was send them over."

The old man sighed tiredly. "Mrs. Winston, my family has been serving the Winstons in all their legal matters for almost four generations. I have seen the young Winston boys born and grow into fine men. You can't say that I don't take a personal interest in the welfare of Mr. Robert's family especially now that he isn't any longer with us."

Emma smiled and took the old man's hands in hers. "Mr. Collins, I understand the prominent respect that you hold for Robert's family but..." she hesitated briefly. "Did Richard send you to check up on me?"

Mr. Collins watched her closely with his greying eyes. He moved his hands slightly so that now he was holding hers instead. "You must not think it as an intrusion. Mr. Richard means well. He is worried about you and the children."

"I am a grown woman, Mr. Collins," she said, withdrawing her hand in part annoyance and part tiredness. "It's time your Mr. Richard learns that I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions about what becomes of me and my children."

"Mr.s. Winston..," Mr. Collins started to protest.

"Please, sir," she added quickly. "Let Richard know that I do not intend to leave Skye anytime soon. And if I ever do return to London, it will be when my children and I are good and ready."

CHAPTER 3.

It was one of those rare days when the sun would s.h.i.+ne over the ma.s.s of dense dark clouds. She did not know how long the good day would last but she wanted to make the best use of it. She drove down the highway and toward Broadford. Jai sat beside her, his eyes focused on his book. Hannah meanwhile was clearly busy as there was silence reigning in the car, other than her occasional burst of excitements in between the beeps of her Nintendo DS device.

Ten minutes later, the row of shops and busyness of the small town began to emerge in the distance. As Emma neared the co-op, she couldn't help but admire the blue of the sea that bordered the bay.

"How long are we going to be?" asked Jai, looking at a white van pulling out of a parking bay.

"Hopefully not that long," she answered. "We're short of groceries and general cleaning stuff."

"Would it be okay if you dropped me at the library while you're doing the shopping," he asked.

"Jai...," she started.

"Please Mum," he said. "I really can't be bothered following you and a trolley today."

"Fine," she sighed. It might be for the best, she thought to herself. "How about you, Hannah? Coming with Mum or staying with Jai?"

"Jai," she replied without looking away from her game.

Emma swung at the turn and pulled in front of the library. "Jai, I need you to stay here until I get back" she reminded. "Okay?"

"Yes," he said hopping out the door quickly in case his mother changed her mind.

"Jai?" she called out through the window. "Stay here. And take care of your sister."

"Mum, chill!" he shouted back as he ran after Hannah, who was already racing through the doors of the library. "I heard you!"

Emma watched them disappear between the automatic doors before heading back into the main street and towards the co-operative store. She parked at the closest parking bay she could find. She glided out of her car and walked briskly towards the supermarket. An elderly couple walked by her giving her a curious second glance.

She didn't think much of it and began her routine of hunting for items on her shopping list. A few others smiled at her as she walked by them with her trolley. She smiled back aware that she was now living in a much smaller part of the world than she was used to. She was bound to get recognised sooner or later as the woman who moved from London to Breakish with two kids.

"You're the woman who moved to Breakish with two kids, right?" asked the middle aged blonde cas.h.i.+er. She looked Emma over with a smile as she swiped the shopping items.

Emma returned a small, nervous smile.

"I'm Lisa," the cas.h.i.+er said.

Emma glanced down at her name tag. "Lisa" she read silently.

"I'm Emma," she said aloud.

"I live two houses down from yours," Lisa said. "Where did you come from?"

"London," Emma answered.

"London?" a weaker, older voice answered from behind her. "I've been to London once. A long time ago."

She looked behind her to find an old man approximately in his eighties holding a gallon of milk and a box of cereals. His old wrinkled face held up a frown high on his forehead, a set of spectacles sat at the end of his nose and his thinning grey hair was slicked back. He looked back at her with steel greying eyes.

"Matthew," Lisa growled. "Don't mind him," she told Emma. "He is actually quite a sweet old man once you get to know him. Isn't that right, Matthew?" She gave him a side grin as she swiped another item across her scanner.

Matthew Allaway harrumphed in indignation looking away. "You should stop with the chit-chat, so I can get on my way," he grumbled.

Lisa smiled again and turned to Emma. "I'm at number 17. If you need anything don't be afraid to knock."

"You live next to Mrs. Kinnaird's property then," said the old man, his eyes giving Emma a harsh appraisal.

"Yeah," chirped in Lisa quickly before Emma could answer. "I know, " she said as she rolled up her eyes.

Lisa put the items into a shopping bag. "That would be a hundred and fifty three pounds and forty-four p's."

"Do you mind if I use a credit card?" asked Emma.

"Certainly not," said Lisa, pulling forward the mobile terminal and handing it over to her.

Emma punched in her pin. "Lisa," she asked quietly over her eyebrows. "Is there something I need to know about Mr.s. Kinnaird?"

Lisa stared at her blankly. "No," she muttered at last. "Here's your receipt." She handed Emma the small slip of paper.

Emma took it hesitantly. She bit her lips thoughtfully as she picked up her shopping bags.

"Stay away from the old lady," said Matthew.

Emma turned but Matthew was not looking at her. He was laying his gallon of milk and box of cereal on the counter. Lisa tried to avoid Emma's questioning stare.

"She's trouble. Always have been," added Matthew, turning slightly towards her now. He gave her the same icy cold look that he had given her earlier.

It was almost three o'clock in the evening and Emma was enjoying the last rays of sunlight as she walked up the road. She slowed briefly at property number 27. She could see the large white mansion in the distance. Rows of cypress lined the private road to the estate. From what she had learnt, the vast majority of the land on this side of the road belonged to Mrs. Kinnaird and so there wasn't a house to be seen for at least a mile- the one reason she loved to take her usual afternoon stroll in this direction than the one that would lead past Lisa Johnston's house.

She re-a.s.sessed the small talk she had had with Lisa and Matthew Allaway. It was obvious that Lisa was uncomfortable about speaking of Mrs. Kinnaird any more at the supermarket and Matthew seemed that he had said all that he needed to. But there was something in the way they had spoken of her that irked her greatly.

After having done her shopping earlier that morning, she had picked up the children and drove further down the highway.

"Where are we going, Mum?" said Jai noticing.

"To Portree," she answered. "I need to speak to Mr. MacGregor about something."

Half an hour later she found herself sitting in the small realtor office. Jai and Hannah waited patiently on the customer couches provided.

"h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Winston," said Mr. MacGregor emerging from the back. "Ciamar a tha sibh?"

"Thagu math," Emma replied with a smile.

Mr. MacGregor smiled. "You're brus.h.i.+ng up on your Gaelic, I see?"

"I've learnt a bit," Emma said. And a few other things, she thought to herself.

"Well, Mrs. Winston, what can I help you with today? You are well settled at the house?"

"I am, thank you, Mr. MacGregor."

"And the folks around Breakish, Broadford? They treating you well?"

"I couldn't be more welcome," she answered as politely as she could. "Mr. MacGregor," she added quickly before he could continue with his small talk. She was well aware that he knew she had money and he was probably counting on his good fortune that she would buy another property to add to his sales. She was banking on this in the hope that she would get the answers she was looking for. "You said the previous owners were selling because they wanted to move closer to Portree."

"Yes," said Mr. MacGregor. "They could no longer maintain the size of the land. Five acres of farm land is no easy feat to manage Mrs. Winston."

"So this has nothing to do with the fact that the adjoining property to mine belongs to Mrs. Kinnaird?"

Mr. MacGregor licked his lips nervously, slightly taken aback. "Why, er, of course not. Mrs. Kinnaird is an upstanding member of the community. I don't know who has been talking to you but it's all gossip."

"What gossip?" said Emma immediately attentive.

Mr. MacGregor stammered slightly. "What? No...no gossip. Like I said Mrs. Kinnaird is a well-respected member..."

"I know she is a well-respected member," Emma snapped in annoyance. "And that is why no one wants to tell me exactly why people avoid her. Particularly so, of why no one wants to buy a five acre property that was on sale for pittance and on the market for almost half a year."

"Mrs. Winston," Mr. MacGregor said a.s.suredly. "You're making this out to be more than it is. Sheep farming is on the decline. The previous owners realised that and so they did what was economical to them. They sold out. The property is an hour's drive from Portree which makes it quite inconvenient to most residents in Skye. And expensive for most locals to maintain as well. Aside that, there is also the fact that real estate in Skye tend to sell a little slower than they do in London." He added the last statement a tad more sterner in the hope that Emma would put an end to her curiosity.

The indirectness did not go unnoticed. Emma watched him closely. "You sure there is nothing I should be worried about?"

"Of course not," said Mr. MacGregor, rising from his chair. "Listen, I have an appointment in ten minutes. I wish I could help you more but there really isn't anything that you should be concerned about. If there is anything else Mrs. Winston, please feel free to drop by anytime." He extended his hand.

Emma took it hesitantly. She hoped, for his sake, that it was true.

"Ted! Ted!" called out the woman as she leant against her window to get a closer look. "Theodore!"

A middle-aged man rushed up the stairs and into the parlour where the woman was. "Yes, Mrs. Kinnaird?" he said. He heaved breathlessly, trying to keep his tall and thin stature as upright as possible.

"She's back, Theodore," the woman said excitedly. "Look, there she is walking up the highway."

Theodore glanced slightly at the window and saw the young woman stop briefly near the road leading up to the house. "Ah, yes, Mrs. Kinnaird," he said. "I see her."

"Come on, then," she rushed out of the room. "Let's go before we lose her."

"Lose her?" he asked puzzled, racing behind her.

The older woman didn't answer. She called out to her housekeeper. "Nancy! Get my shawl."

A woman in her fifties sprinted out the front door with a deep green shawl and after her employer.

"What is it?" she mouthed silently at Theodore.

Theodore gestured a "I'll tell you later" and hopped into the driver's seat.

Mrs. Kinnaird scrambled into the back seat. Nancy hurriedly closed the door after her mistress but did not move away from the car. She was still astounded by all the hastiness caused by Mrs. Kinnaird.