Emily

Chapter Thirteen

I found Coco lying in bed looking beautiful as always, but very tired. Someone had brought her some lilies, and she’d buried her face in them. Her nose was bright yellow with pollen. She was obviously in considerable pain, but greeted me with her usual zest.

‘Help yourself to a drink, chérie, and get me one. Buster has gone shooting. Every day now he shoot, pop, pop, bang, bang. I find it very boring. I ’ave live in Scotland nearly thirty years, and still I do not find the plus-four sexy. Admittedly, Buster ’ave very good legs. A seagull excruciated on his coat just as he was leaving. He was very angry.’

I giggled. Coco could always cheer me up. We gossiped for half an hour, then I reverted to the subject I could never ignore for long, even though it crucified me to talk about it.

‘Have you seen Marina?’ I asked.

Coco raised her eyes to heaven.

‘Yes I ’ave. That’s a marriage going on the rocks. We had dinner with them the other night, she and Hamish. I gave her a lecture. I said “You are not making Hamish happy like Emily is making my Rory happy.”’ (I winced at that bit.) ‘And Marina laugh in my face. Sometimes I think she is a bit touchy in her head. She is so different from her brother, Finn. He’s so kind and down-to-earth, and such a wonderful doctor.’

That moment a maid banged on the door.

‘Dr Maclean’s here, madam,’ she said.

‘Show him in,’ said Coco, excitedly.

‘Oh God, he was as mad as a boiled squirrel last time I saw him,’ I said.

But Coco wasn’t listening, she was too busy combing her hair and spraying on scent.

In marched Finn Maclean.

‘Talk of the devil,’ said Coco in delight. ‘I was just singing your praises to Emily, telling her what a wonderful doctor you were — so kind and understanding. I shouldn’t think anything rattles you, does it, Finn?’

‘No,’ I said acidly, ‘I should think it’s always Dr Maclean who does the rattling.’

Finn turned round and saw me. His face hardened slightly. ‘Oh it’s you,’ he said.

‘I didn’t know you knew Emily,’ said Coco. ‘Isn’t she pretty? And so good for Rory.’

‘I’m sure they’re ideally matched,’ said Finn.

The sarcasm was entirely lost on Coco, who beamed at us both.

‘Let’s have a look at your ankle,’ Finn said.

Coco stretched out one of her beautiful, smooth, brown legs. The ankle was very black and swollen. Although Finn handled it with amazing delicacy, she drew her breath in.

‘Sore is it?’ he said gently.

She nodded, catching her lip.

‘Poor old thing. Never mind, you’ve still got one perfect ankle,’ he said, getting up. ‘No reason why the other shouldn’t be as right as rain in a few weeks.’

‘What’s right about rain?’ I said gloomily, looking out of the window.

‘Still, I’d like to X-ray it,’ Finn went on, ignoring me. ‘I’ll send an ambulance to pick you up later. It’ll jolt you less than a car.’

‘I must go,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to cook Rory’s supper.’

‘Finn will give you a lift,’ said Coco.

‘I’ve got a car,’ I said quickly.

It was very cold outside and I shivered: I didn’t want to leave the cosy warmth of the castle for one of Rory’s black moods. Finn Maclean got something out of the pocket of his overcoat.

‘I should have thought it was a bit early on in your marriage to escape into tripe like this,’ he said, handing it to me. It was the romantic novel I’d intended to give Coco.