Barbara Erskine - Kingdom of Shadows

Tearing open the envelope Clare read the carefully written message and her face went white.

‘So sorry to hear you are unwell, but delighted you have reconsidered the sale of Duncairn. Look forward to meeting you when you are recovered. Very Best Wishes. Rex Cummin.’

The sea was churning restlessly over the rocks at the foot of the cliffs. Neil walked to the place where the wall had fallen and peered down into the dark. A gentle south wind touched his cheek with cold fingers. Above, the sky was ablaze with stars.

‘It’s very quiet, isn’t it?’ Behind him Kathleen glanced nervously down over his shoulder towards the white luminescence which was the sea curdling on the rocks far below. She turned and walked back towards the keep, feeling the chill of the dew soaking into her shoes. ‘What a spooky place. Where is the oil? Right under the castle?’

Neil hadn’t moved. Hands in pockets, he hunched his shoulders. ‘It’s very deep. It would cost a lot to drill here.’

‘But not a fraction as much as it costs to drill under the North Sea, presumably.’ She paused. ‘I like your Mr Grant at the hotel. You’ve got an ally there.’ Walking back to him, she took his arm. ‘We didn’t need to come up here, Neil.’

‘I needed to.’ He turned to go with her. ‘This place is special, Kath. Can’t you feel it? It represents everything that Scotland stands for. A castle high on a cliff; a castle which has stood here for eight hundred years; a place where they fought for Scotland’s independence. A place where men and women died to save Scotland’s resources for herself.’

Kathleen shivered. In spite of herself she glanced over her shoulder. Ever since they had walked out into the darkness after dinner she had had the feeling they were being watched. ‘Scotland didn’t have many resources. Not until the oil came,’ she said gently.

‘Scotland has always had resources. Her people; her learning; her pride and independence …’

Kathleen grinned ruefully. ‘So, do I gather that if it were a Scots’ oil company you wouldn’t feel so bad about their bid?’

‘No. Even then we would fight. The environmental threat is too great. Imagine it, Kath. A hundred-foot drilling rig here, on the cliffs. It would be sacrilege!’ He pushed his hands deep in his pockets. ‘But an American oil company – run by people who know nothing of Scotland – who have never even been here! That is scandalous.’

‘Jack Grant said they’d been up here at the weekend.’

‘Oh yes, another surveyor, no doubt. I don’t expect Cummin has ever been here, or his US directors. The people in charge of wrecking places invariably live thousands of miles away.’

High above them the tower rose black against the luminous sky, the broken walls jagged and irregular in front of the stars. Where was Clare Royland? Why wasn’t she here, fighting?

‘Neil –’ Kathleen was beside him again.

‘Go back to the hotel, Kath, please. I need to think.’ There was a long silence. He could feel her eyes on his face in the darkness. Then she shrugged. ‘OK. I’ll see you later. Don’t fall over the edge, now.’

He watched as her figure faded into the darkness, then he turned back towards the castle. How could Clare Royland even contemplate selling? How could she betray her roots, her heredity like this? Couldn’t she feel it when she came here? The pull? The tie which held the sons and daughters of Scotland to the land. He pictured her yet again with her expensive car and her rich, beautiful clothes and he frowned as somewhere a bird let out a long mournful cry. He and Clare Royland were going to have to meet …

‘So, how are you enjoying working in a man’s world, honey?’ Rex smiled at Diane Warboys as she sat opposite him in the pink alcove at Corney and Barrow. ‘As challenging as you hoped?’

‘It’s not strictly a man’s world any more, Rex. But it is challenging, yes, and I’m enjoying it enormously.’ She leaned back in her chair and looked at him hard. It had been nearly ten years since she had last seen her godfather. Then he had been based in Houston, and she had called in to see them one vacation when she was at school. He was still an extraordinarily handsome man, tanned, silver-haired, with a smile which could charm a bird out of a tree, but he was tired – she could see it in his eyes. ‘How are you and Mary?’ She smiled at him fondly. ‘I had no idea you were based in London now.’

‘We’re just fine.’ Rex sighed. ‘Getting older. But that’s to be expected, I suppose.’

She laughed. ‘You old fraud. You don’t look a day over forty.’

‘Well, I’m quite a bit older than that, honey.’ His face was sober for a moment. ‘A lot more than that. But let’s talk about you. What is it like, working for BCWP? Are they good people?’

‘The best. Well almost. We were number two, last year.’

Rex frowned. ‘So, there’s no truth in the rumours that they’re undercapitalised.’

Diane raised an eyebrow. ‘My, we have been doing our homework.’ She grinned. ‘No truth at all. The firm is solid. There were one or two shaky moments when they first set up, but not any more.’

‘I came across the name of one of your directors the other day.’ He glanced up at her under his eyebrows. ‘Paul Royland.’ He noticed the slight colouring of her cheeks and he frowned. ‘Do you know him at all well?’

‘I had dinner with him and his wife last weekend, actually.’ Diane eyed him cautiously. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Just curious to know what kind of people my goddaughter is working for.’ He grinned. ‘Is he a good business man, do you reckon?’

‘I don’t know.’ She glanced away. ‘He’s on the banking side, so I don’t see a lot of him.’

‘You just said you had dinner with him, Diane,’ his voice was softly wheedling. ‘You must know him quite well to have done that.’

‘I was taken, by one of his co-directors. Henry Firbank. We go out from time to time.’

‘I see.’ Rex leaned forward and steepled his fingers over his glass. ‘I see. So tell me, from what you know of him, would you say Paul Royland would be a good man to do business with?’

Diane frowned. ‘Is that what you’re thinking of doing? Raising money through BCWP?’

‘Possibly. But I was thinking on a more personal level. I want to know if he’s sound.’ His voice had sharpened.

She looked down. ‘So. This isn’t just a social lunch. You’ve asked me here for a reason. I might have guessed, you old fraud. You don’t change, do you? Well, the answer is I don’t know. There have been rumours.’ She glanced up at him, uncomfortable now with his questions. ‘I shouldn’t tell you any of this, Rex.’

‘It won’t go any further, honey.’ He reached over the table and took her hand. ‘But I need to know.’

‘Well,’ she hesitated again. ‘Henry would never say anything, he’s too loyal, but I know Paul’s sister, Emma, quite well, and she’s let slip a few things. Her husband is on the Far East desk, and she has no idea of how to keep tactful silence about things he’s told her about the office.’ She smiled fondly. ‘And of course, Peter only tells her because she is Paul’s sister! Peter thinks that there may have been trouble about the Hannington takeover, when the price dropped when they had the strike. Do you remember? The shares shot up and there were screams of insider dealing. Then the takeover fell through. I suspect Paul lost a lot of money over that deal. I think he can be less than shrewd sometimes.’

‘But you like him anyway.’ Rex raised an eyebrow.

‘Is it that obvious?’

‘Only to me. I’ve known you too long. So, what about his wife?’

Diane sighed. ‘She is rich and stunningly beautiful. I would never stand a chance.’