‘I wouldn’t say that …’ Jake began, maintaining his thoughtful pose.
‘I would. Of course, she doesn’t do things just to annoy me,’ Gayle tapped her temple. ‘It’s not her fault she’s got dementia.’
‘Ah.’ Jake nodded. It explained a lot.
‘Even so, how does she manage to do the exact opposite of what I tell her, every time?’
‘I really can’t help you with that one.’ He noticed the library book in her hand had a word abbreviated on the spine –Psych. Perhaps Gayle was trying to find out from a book.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Gayle, noticing Jake’s coat slung over his arm and the car keys dangling from his hand. ‘I’m keeping you.’
‘No, not at all,’ Jake lied.
Gayle glanced up the stairs. ‘Marcus not going with you?’
Jake followed her gaze, thinking up a plausible excuse. ‘He’s resting for the afternoon.’ He made a hasty retreat to the frontdoor.
‘Okay,’ she said simply. Jake turned to look at her for a moment. She hadn’t even asked him what they were doing in Aviemore. How refreshing that Gayle wasn’t trying to pry into their lives. If the local press got wind that they were here, he could just imagine the headline:Mr Campbell-Ross revisits the scene of the tragedy seven months on.
Jake was not revisiting anything. He was there for entirely different reasons. But that was beside the point. He knew Gayle would not be telling any local reporter, or even probably her friends, just who was staying at Lark Lodge. Jake wanted to kiss her for that. Of course, he didn’t. But he had decided that Gayle was all right – more than all right. And if he had reason to return to Aviemore again, he’d be sure to stay at her exceptionally beautiful house.
Jake stepped outside and turned around to face Gayle. ‘I’m sorry to hear your mother has dementia.’ It explained why, when she’d opened the front door to them when they’d arrived, she’d promptly shut it again.
‘She does remember whose room that is.’ Jake pointed upstairs, indicating the room he and Marcus were presently occupying.
‘Yes, she does, some of the time.’ Gayle added. There are days she even remembers who restored her home to its former glory.’
‘Your friend, Robyn.’ It wasn’t a question, but Gayle nodded her head all the same, smiling.
‘Well, I guess today was one of those days.’ Jake smiled ruefully.
Jake didn’t add that he wondered how many other people had been turned away by a charming old lady who had no idea that these strangers had arrived to stay in her beautifully renovated house. Jake wondered if Gayle was aware her mother was unintentionally sabotaging her plans to run Lark Lodge asa guesthouse – although it still sounded as though she had no shortage of bookings.
‘As I said before, Robyn didn’t just do up the room you’re staying in,’ said Gayle. ‘That was just the beginning … I was sceptical at first, but look at how the place turned out.’
‘It used to be the worst house in the street. Now it’s the best.’ Jake winced, realising he’d spoken his mind. That didn’t seem to bother Gayle. She grinned. ‘Never a truer word was spoken. I agree completely.’
Jake looked past Gayle at the bright hallway with its gorgeous oak panelling that had given such a fantastic impression of the house as soon as he’d walked through the door.
‘You’ve got some pretty special friends, you know that?’
‘I know. And so does Mother.’ Gayle started to close the door. ‘Oh, by the way, if you ever need any interior design work done on the … um … a property.’
Gayle had already asked him this, but Jake noticed she stayed clear of mentioning The Lake House, or his loss. He wondered if she’d read something in a book on psychology that may have touched on dealing with grief. He had noticed a lot of self-help books lining the bookshelves in the study as they passed by on the tour of the ground floor earlier.
‘If I do, I’ll be sure to look her up,’ said Jake, although he had no plans for making any alterations to The Lake House, let alone returning there.
It might have surprised Gayle to know that it was he who owned The Lake House. It had been his parents’ home. It was where they’d raised him as a child before he was orphaned.
This was not common knowledge. As far as most people were aware, The Lake House had simply been used as a cherished holiday home for many, many years. But back then, soon after Jake had lost his parents, The Rosses had moved in, spending a time living in The Lake House to try to give Jake somenormality; allowing him to remain in his childhood home after losing his parents.
However it wasn’t long before the demands of the Ross Corporation encroached on the family’s Scottish idyll. Although William had wanted to remain living in the house with his family, it had not been possible. Inevitably, a short time later, they had relocated to London permanently, vowing to spend each Christmas there in Aviemore, recapturing the time they’d spent there as a family when Marcus, Jake and Eleanor were children.
Jake wondered what would happen the next Christmas. As far as he was aware, nobody had visited The Lake House for the last seven months. The house had lain forlorn and forgotten. He couldn’t see that changing any time soon. But Gayle had given him pause for thought. Who hadn’t seen photos of mansions snapped up by the rich and famous, only to be left uninhabited and forgotten, falling in a state of disrepair?
As he turned to go, he smiled and said, ‘Perhaps I will look up Robyn and enlist her services to spruce up The Lake House.’ Jake was thinking that perhaps it was time to let The Lake House go. Maybe if he did that soon, then another family would move in by Christmas, and the rooms would echo once more with laughter, and the house would be filled with joy and happiness. It was never going to happen again there for the Rosses, he thought sadly.
His smile faltered. He knew it was a mistake going back there. Everything reminded him of losing Eleanor.
