Jake continued to look at Marcus, wondering how he was going to take what he was about to say next. ‘Look, about that word, the choice of inscription. I didn’t mean …’
‘Maybe if you come and look at it from this direction.’ In the tiny room, Marcus’s finger was gesturing for Jake to come over. Marcus hadn’t taken his eyes off the room, and Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off Marcus. He obviously hadn’t heard a word he had just said.
Jake rolled his eyes. ‘I told you.’ He stood up, ‘I’ve seen it today already.’ Grudgingly, Jake walked around the workbench and stood beside Marcus. ‘Besides, I thought you were anxious to get to the airport?’ Jake reminded him.
Marcus grabbed Jake’s arm and tugged in an effort to force Jake to bend down.
‘What is it?’ Jake crouched down next to Marcus.
Marcus pointed at the room again. ‘Look.’ Marcus stared at Jake until he gave in and looked into the room, craning his neck in a mock show. ‘There, I’m looking – so what?’ Jake didn’t get it.
‘I meanreallylook,’ Marcus insisted.
Jake took in the detail of the miniature bedroom. And then he saw it. Without saying a word, Jake slowly stood up, followed by Marcus. He looked at Marcus a long moment, and then crouched down once more to take a second look to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
‘You see it, don’t you?’ said Marcus.
Jake stood and faced Marcus. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said, ‘it’s one of the rooms …’
Marcus nodded.
‘… at Lark Lodge.’
Marcus nodded again.
They bent down together, and Jake reached into the room to pick up the sofa that was an exact replica, in all but size, of the one in the sitting room. He held it up. They both peered at it.
‘How do you suppose that happened?’ said Marcus.
Jake looked up from the miniature sofa in his hand. There was only one possible explanation. ‘I guess Gayle’s friend Robyn, the interior designer, has been here in The Lake House and seen this.’ He imagined she’d caught glimpses of the house from upper floors of Lark Lodge, and her curiosity had got the better of her.
Jake thought of the used mug in the kitchen. Marty must have taken her to see the house. They clearly knew each other because Marty was Gayle’s gardener too. But there was just one small snag; the dust sheet was filthy, and it hadn’t looked like it had been removed in years. Perhaps she’d lifted a corner and taken a peek?
‘But she’s got no right to … to … use, to copy,’ Marcus’s voice was growing louder, ‘to plagiarise Eleanor’s work!’ Marcus was furious.
Jake slowly shook his head. ‘Will you listen to yourself?’ He bent down and carefully placed the sofa back in the room. ‘It’s only a child’s doll’s house.’ Jake touched the wallpaper, which he was sure exactly matched the pattern in Gayle’s house. ‘And besides, I think Eleanor would have been quite chuffed that an interior designer had seen fit to use her designs as a template for her own work – don’t you?’
‘Yes, ok. Maybe you’re right,’ Marcus conceded. ‘But what the hell was some complete stranger,’ his voice was rising again, ‘doing nosing around your house and prying into Eleanor’s things for anyway?’ Marcus was shouting now. ‘And more to the point, how did she get in here in the first place?’
Jake stood up and shifted his gaze from the doll’s house to Marcus. He wasn’t about to tell Marcus that the gardener had been stopping in the house for a drink, and at some point had probably given Robyn a guided tour. The last thing Jake wanted was for Marcus to fly off the handle and let rip at the one person who was keeping the gardens pristine. The grounds were immaculate, and thanks to Marty, did not send out a signal for unwanted guests – squatters. Jake wanted it to stay that way. Which reminded him that he’d gone there again to see Marty, not to revisit the past.
Jake knelt and picked up the dust sheet from the floor. When he got up, Marcus was still standing there, staring at him intently. ‘What?’ Jake eyed Marcus. ‘What would you have me do, Marcus? Get her arrested?’
‘Now we’re getting somewhere,’ said Marcus cheerfully.
Jake looked at him a long moment and shook his head. He threw the dust sheet in the air and watched it gently glide down to cover the house. He caught one last glimpse of the inside, the kitchen this time, and it too looked distinctly familiar. It made Jake wonder how many other rooms in Gayle’s house had been lifted from Eleanor’s design. He looked over at Marcus and was relieved to see he hadn’t noticed. He was too wrapped up in the unfairness of life – that Eleanor was not there to use her talents and somebody else had.
‘For trespassing, then.’ Marcus said sulkily.
Jake shook his head again. Marcus was talking nonsense. Of course she couldn’t be arrested for trespassing. That wasn’t a police matter – and he knew it. Jake ignored him as he tucked the sheet under the base of the doll’s house, having some difficulty lifting the base with his sore hands.
‘She runs her interior design business from Gillespie’s General Store. We could go into Aviemore and make a citizen’s arrest.’ Marcus followed Jake around the doll’s house, notoffering to help tuck in the sheet.
‘Look, she probably knows Marty.’ Jake hadn’t intended to bring the gardener into it, but Marcus’s constant badgering was getting on his nerves. He wanted him to shut up or go away – preferably both.
‘Marty?’
‘The gardener. He looks after Gayle’s garden too, so my guess is that it’s how he knows Robyn and how she came to be here in this house.’
