She looked at me, and something in her eyes blazed.
“Let me join in with the oversharing. When your mum died, I wanted to be there for you. But we hadn’t spoken properly for ages and I couldn’t just drop you a message. Then I bumped your car, and you were super angry with me. I used it as an excuse to stay away. I should have done more. You went through a horrible loss, and it was less than a decade after your gran. I was a shit friend, even though we weren’t officially friends. I’m sorry for that, too.”
I picked up my glass and stared into it. “If we’re anything to go by, it’s true what they say about gin making you maudlin.”
That got a smile at least.
“But honestly?” I added. “I don’t blame you for not coming near me. I was in a bad place, and we weren’t close then.”
“I could have tried. Yes, I was going through my divorce and things were messy, but yourmumdied. That trumps everything.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t have let you. I’d have shut you down.” I hadn’t let many people in since. It was something I was working on.
“I could have tried even when your mum was still alive. Our mums were friends, just like us when we were kids. But after I went to university and we stopped talking, it became the norm. It always saddened me. Then when we did talk, it was weird and edgy. Not like this.”
She shook her head with a smile. “Let’s just agree that we both could have been better to each other over the years. But this trip? We’re going to soak up everything Voss Watches, and we’re going to be nice to each other. I know we can do it. I can’t wait to go to Goldloch again. I haven’t been back since that last two weeks we spent there as kids. I think we were 10 and 14 then?” She smiled at me, then. A pure, genuine smile. The same one that always lit up every room she was in.
I remembered the vibe of that summer like it was yesterday. It had been idyllic. Me, Katy, and Eliza. The three of us running free, with no cares. They were far simpler days.
“You know, I often thought you had the work-life balance thing all sorted. I’ve still to master it,” Eliza said.
I snorted. “Let me tell you, I didn’t. First, I was too much play. Then I crashed. Now I’m too much work.”
“So we’re both workaholics with no relationship?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“At least it means we might work for the next few months.”
“Not if you call me Playgirl Poppy again.”
Eliza bit down a smile. “I promise those words will never pass my lips again. Cross my heart.” She drew a line from her right shoulder to the left-hand side of her waist, then did the same on the opposite side.
“Maybe we both have things to learn. You have to learn to play more. And I’m learning that if I want to take over at Voss, work has to come first. Which is why it’s my priority for the next six months. I have big plans, and they all start here.”
Eliza ran her tongue along her top teeth before she replied. “Six months? I thought the deal was three to start, and then we see where we are. Whether we stick or twist.”
“Is that what Margot told you?”
A slight wince crossed her face, and I could see her deciding what to tell me and what not. In the end, she gave me a slow nod. “And Dad.”
A dark shadow fell on me. I had to remember that as nice as Eliza was, she also had interest in the other side of the deal, too. “We agreed it was three to make my mark. Six to fully convince. I plan to make my mark. If you’re reporting back to Margot or your dad, make sure they know that.” I paused. “I haven’t come to play. I mean business.”
CHAPTER 8
Voss Watch’s main production plant still sat on one of the most picturesque industrial parks I’d ever seen. Set on the outskirts of Goldloch, the modern estate somehow managed to blend seamlessly with the Highland landscape. The old Victorian red brick building had been lovingly maintained, its tall windows gleaming in the spring morning light. Beside it, newer extensions had been sensitively added to accommodate the growing business, the living gardens on their roofs showing a shock of green.
From the car park, the River Ness wound its way towards the loch. To the left of the main entrance was the tourist pier where the old Ferris wheel sat dormant, waiting for the season to begin. Katy and I had begged to ride it every summer, spinning slowly above the dark waters while scanning for any sign of Nessie, the Loch Ness monster who was supposed to live below.
When I stepped through Voss’s door, it was like being transported back in time. The reception area was exactly as I remembered it: polished wooden floors that creaked in all the familiar places, tartan upholstery on the waiting area chairs, and the same framed photographs of Highland landscapes lining cream walls. There was also the one of Mum and Gran, arm inarm just after Mum took over as CEO, with the caption: Petula Voss with her daughter, Felicity, the future of Voss Watches.
The smell of the machinery drifted through from the factory floor beyond. The noise. The focus. And there, laughing about something with our receptionist, Leah, was Voss’s heartbeat and Chief Operating Officer, Fiona. A little older, a little greyer, but still there. Watching over the company like a guardian angel.
I hadn’t seen her since Mum’s funeral, when I’d collapsed into her. Today, I was stronger, but it still tugged at something inside when she crushed me in a hug. With Fiona, I’d always be eight years old, no matter what time passed.
“My goodness, look at you, all grown up!” She held me at arm’s length and shook her head. “A bonnie wee lassie if ever I saw one.”
Fiona had used the same line every time she saw me my entire life, but it always made me smile. I’d woken up to a message from Katy this morning to tell her hi. She loved her, too. Fiona was our Scottish mother.
