me,’ she said. ‘He’s rude, admittedly, and blunt. Was he telling the truth when he described me as your conduit?’
‘Was he telling the truth when he called you a gold digger and accused you of whoring your way into my affections?’
‘Those were his words?’
He nodded. ‘Ignore what he says, Sophia. He’ll need psychiatric help soon and we’ll cope with that when the time comes. What are you cooking?’ He sniffed the air. ‘It smells delicious.’
‘Lamb tagine.’
‘Ah.’
‘Would you like to eat with us?’ Did he notice her lack of enthusiasm when he accepted her invitation? Instead of trying to make conversation across the table with him, she wanted to go into a quiet space and reflect on her future at Hyland Hall. Victor’s excuse that his uncle was suffering from dementia had done nothing to soften the brutality of his insults. His phrases were seared on her brain. Gold digger. The term had a vicious sting, unlike ‘low hanging fruit,’ which was simply a pathetic insult. ‘Whoring’ her way into Mount Eagle was unforgivable. She recalled the night with Victor in the music room when Jack Hyland had summonsed her and how she had felt lacerated by his half-blind stare. At a professional level, she had to rise above his insults – Victor’s embarrassment convinced her that other equally offensive comments had been made – but this revelation had destroyed the fragile friendship she had formed with this damaged and complicated man, who still remained an enigma to her.
Chapter Eighteen
Isobel
Julie travelled home from Clonmoore Primary on an earlier bus. Her mother collected her in the car and, if the weather was clear, she left Isobel’s bike propped against the signpost. Empty seats were always available on the afternoon school bus run and it was a relief not to have to sit beside Kelly Bracken.
‘See you tomorrow, Newbie,’ Arthur shouted as she stepped off the bus. Kelly – who lived with her mother and Charlie further along Marsh Road – glanced coldly out the window at Isobel then stared straight ahead when Arthur accelerated. She was the unfriendliest girl Isobel had ever met and having to share a seat with her in the mornings was pure torture.
She picked up her bike and wheeled it across the road. A pickup truck was parked outside the gate lodge. The new estate manager must have arrived. She was half-way along the avenue when she heard the loud sound of an engine behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the pickup truck. The driver was going so slowly he must have been afraid she would swerve out in front of him. She cycled onto the grass verge and waited for him to pass.
‘Hey, Kid!’ He lowered the window and leant his elbow on the frame. ‘Do you want a lift to Hyland Hall?’
‘Dad!’ She couldn’t believe her eyes. ‘What are you doing here?’
He stepped down from the truck and removed his beanie, swept it in front of him and bowed. ‘Luke Kingston at your service,’ he said.
‘Does Mum know you’re visiting us?’
‘I’m not visiting you,’ he replied. ‘I’m the new estate manager.’ He lifted her bike onto the back of the truck. ‘You said if I really cared about you, I’d sort everything out. Well, this is the best I can do for the time being.’
Still unable to believe what was happening, she climbed into the passenger seat.
‘You don’t look pleased to see me,’ he said as he started the truck.
‘I am, it’s just—’
‘Go on. Spit it out.’
‘I don’t want you working for him.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he’s crazy and evil and—’
‘Give your imagination a rest, Isobel,’ he said. ‘My job is to look after the estate. Mr Hyland interviewed me when he was in hospital so I understand why he frightens you. But just because he hides away from people doesn’t make him a monster. You must try and be more understanding.’ He looked so relaxed in his beanie and padded anorak yet the strangeness of seeing him here was causing a swarm of butterflies to flutter in her stomach.
‘Does Mum know you’re the new manager?’
‘She soon will.’ His attempt to sound casual failed miserably. She could tell by the way he gripped the steering wheel that he was nervous.
‘What about the Oasis of Hope, Dad?’
‘What about it?’
‘Did it work? Has it made you better?’
‘I’d like to think it has, Isobel.’ He drove around to the back of Hyland Hall and stared across at the charred remains of the stables. ‘I can see why he needs