Marcus took it and turned to face the front of the lift in stony silence.
‘If you want an apology,’ Jake said finally, ‘I’ll give you one.’ He stole a glance at Marcus. He was still facing the front of the lift. He continued holding onto the rail.
‘I admit it was a stupid thing for me to do,’ Jake conceded. One look at Marcus had convinced him of that.
Marcus said nothing.
The lift door opened onto the ground floor; they stepped out together, Jake trundling Marcus’s suitcase along behind him. He was forced to stop halfway to the front door to let Marcus catch up. Together, they walked slowly past the reception desk, Jake throwing Marcus sideways glances and debating whether he should take him to a hospital. If he’d realised his actions were going to trigger some sort of breakdown …
Of course, in his naivety he’d forgotten that most people never had cause to enter a police station, let alone a police cell. He realised that it must have been a huge shock. And Marcus wasn’t like most people anyway; he was used to, well, an altogether different style of life.
Jake couldn’t believe he had been so stupid as to think Marcus would be in any fit state to just hop on the next plane home after that experience. Besides, the man could barely walk.
Jake opened the door for Marcus. They stepped out into the street. He looked at Marcus again. Why hadn’t he phoned his fiancée or William? Aubrey would have been on the first flight out, if he had managed to contact him, but Jake couldn’t figure out why he had called Faye, someone he barely knew.
Jake got to the car ahead of Marcus and put the suitcase into the boot before opening the passenger door. He waited with the car door open, expecting Marcus to get in beside him. He watched Marcus open the rear door and get in the back instead.
‘I see,’ Jake mumbled under his breath as he slammed the car door shut, circled the car and got in the driver’s side. Jake felt his temper rising. He’d said he was sorry; what more did the man want?
Jake started the engine, mulling over Plan A – going straight to the airport to deposit Marcus on the next available flight home. Since that obviously wasn’t going to happen, it was on to Plan B; except there was no Plan B.
Jake sat in the car, wondering what to do. He felt like a chauffeur, what with Marcus sitting in the back. ‘Where to, sir?’ Jake said, kidding around. He looked in his rear-view mirror. Marcus wasn’t visible.
‘Marcus?’ Jake twisted round in his seat.
Marcus was lying down on the back seat, his knees drawn up to his chest, his suit jacket on the floor. His eyes fluttered open. ‘What did you say?’
Jake leaned over and squeezed his shoulder. ‘Marcus,’ he said gently, ‘where do you want to go?’
‘Sleep,’ said Marcus wearily, closing his eyes.
Jake turned in his seat and looked at his watch; it was only nine-thirty in the morning. Plan B was already forming in his mind.
He manoeuvred the car into the mid-morning flow of traffic. Heading out of the city, Jake made his way north, following the signs for the A9 in the direction of Perth, which would take him all the way to his destination. It was a route he knew well. He would let Marcus catch up on his beauty sleep during the forty-minute journey to Aviemore.
It didn’t take long to join the main road. It was a popular tourist route for people visiting the shores of Loch Ness or to visit Urquhart Castle; the castle ruins were a must-see on the banks of the loch. Jake knew this area well. He had often taken detours off this road to see the lochs and visit the castle with Marcus and Eleanor when they were younger. But Jake had not returned to Scotland for sightseeing – he would not have returned there if it had not been for that strange phone call from Mr Wright.
The plan now was to drop Marcus off at a hotel where he could rest. Perhaps after a few hours of much-needed sleep, he’d feel better. Then he could order some room service and have a bite to eat. The plan would leave Jake free to visit Mr Wright.
Martha clearly knew an Aubrey Jones, but did she know the man behind the fictitious name? After what Jake had discovered about Aubrey at the police station, he wanted nothing more than to find out just who he really was.
Jake glanced over his shoulder. Marcus was still semi-comatose on the back seat. He started the car. ‘Plan B it is, then.’
Chapter 23
Jake was making good time. He could hear Marcus snoring in the back of the car. They were travelling into the Highlands, and the landscape on either side of the road had given way to the beauty and magnificence of heather-covered moors, rolling hills and the distant peaks of the Cairngorms as he drove towards Aviemore.
Jake stopped at a small service station to stretch his legs and admire the views. Marcus didn’t stir as Jake parked the car and made his way to the shop. He ordered coffee and bought one for Marcus too – he had a feeling he would need one when he woke.
When Jake returned to the car, Marcus was still asleep. He considered waking him but thought it best to let him rest.
Jake turned back on to the main road. He passed a road sign stating how many miles it was to Aviemore. He was home. Scotland. He had been born there, he had been orphaned there as a child, and although he had only spent a few short years of his early life living there, it still felt like a homecoming, every time.
Jake kept a casual eye on the road signs; he had been down this route many times. Those had been good times, returning to The Lake House for Christmas. A sudden wave of nostalgia forhis old life hit him, along with the thought that returning was a mistake.
The exit approached.
Jake was having serious doubts about Plan B, about this whole business. It was meant to be a holiday, and there he was, driving towards his past. He wanted to drive right on by the exit, perhaps find a hotel further on, but exactly how much further would that be? There were hotels and B&Bs in Aviemore. He hadn’t planned to stop anywhere else.
