‘The what?’
Colton shrugged. ‘I know, I know. Sometimes it’s beautiful. But sometimes it isn’t.’
He gestured outside, where it didn’t look remotely summery. A sideways sweep of rain had appeared from nowhere and the Seaside Kitchen was pleasantly full of steamed-up tourists in cagoules sitting out the storm and finishing all the cheese scones and moving on to the potato scones.
‘Yes, and?’
‘Well, I want to have the wedding outside. I want it to be perfect.’
‘You can’t control the weather though.’
‘Ah,’ said Colton. He pushed over a brochure to Flora, who took it in amazement.
‘“Cloudbusting Services”,’ Flora read in puzzlement. She looked up. ‘You’re joking, right?’
Colton shook his head. ‘Nope. They seed the clouds with silver and it clears them away.’
‘Where do they go?’
‘I don’t know. Science,’ said Colton.
Flora leafed through. ‘So they guarantee you a clear day on your wedding?’
‘Yup.’
‘That’s insane!’
Colton looked serious. ‘You know, Flora, I’m only planning on doing this once.’
‘You’ll have to,’ said Flora. ‘I don’t care how rich you are: how much is this costing?’
‘Never you mind,’ said Colton. ‘Just remember that I give a lot to charity.’
‘I can google it, you know.’
‘I give a lot to charity. Right, I have to go. Do you think you know what you’re doing?’
‘Making the most amazing meal anyone’s ever had ever?’
‘Great! Thanks.’
‘I’m googling cloudbusting, you weirdo.’
‘Can’t wait to welcome you as a sister.’
‘And please,’ Flora genuinely was begging. ‘Please, when are you opening this place up for business?’
Colton looked shifty. ‘Ah, don’t you like having it just for us?’
‘Yes,’ said Flora. ‘But I like paying my staff even more.’
‘Okay, here’s a thought,’ Flora said, testing out yet another wedding cake recipe on everyone as they sat at the kitchen table in the farmhouse. Joel looked up, desperate to get out of unsuccessfully attempting to have a conversation with her father about farming.
‘What if I change everything that needs butter to margarine?’
Joel winced.
‘Not likely,’ said Fintan.
‘Yuck!’ said Hamish.
‘Come on, you guys, you’re not helping. Hamish, come work for me for free.’
‘Look,’ said Innes. ‘Running a business is hard. Maybe you’re just not cut out for it.’
‘Shut up, Innes! You’re the one who nearly lost the farm.’
‘Hey, don’t have a go at Innes,’ said Fintan. ‘I was the one who nearly lost the farm. There must be other things you could try.’
Flora looked at him. ‘I could marry a billionaire. Where is he, anyway?’
Fintan shrugged. ‘He’s up to something secret on the mainland. I hope it’s buying me a really large present.’
Flora caught Joel looking dismayed at that remark, but thought little of it.
‘Do you need more investment?’ said Innes.
‘No,’ said Flora. ‘It’s just pouring money down a black hole. Oh God. The only thing I can do is whack the prices up.’
‘You should do that,’ said Joel. ‘It’s absurdly cheap.’
‘But I don’t want to gouge everybody in the neighbourhood!’
‘Can’t you gouge the tourists then?’ said Innes, who was cross because someone in a hire car had beeped his tractor as he’d been driving up the hill. ‘They’re bloody annoying buggers.’
Flora thought about it. ‘I suppose … What if I had a discount card?’
‘What do you mean?’ Joel took off his spectacles.
‘Well … We talked about this … I can’t charge my locals more.’
‘You could …’
‘I shan’t!’
Joel smiled to himself.
‘But,’ said Flora, ‘what if I bumped up all the prices then gave every single local person a discount card that brought it back down to what it was and only took extra money off the tourists? And Jan …’
The boys stopped what they were doing.
‘Hang on,’ said Innes. ‘Did our Flora just have quite a good idea?’
Fintan shook his head. ‘Flora, are you sick?’
‘And every time you’re rude to me,’ said Flora, ‘I’m adding another hundred quid on to your wedding bill.’
‘Shut it!’
‘Two hundred!’ She smiled gleefully. ‘That could work, couldn’t it?’
‘You’d have to explain it four times to Mrs Blair,’ said Innes thoughtfully. ‘And get the cards printed.’
‘I can do that. Agot, draw me a card.’
‘I DO THAT ALSO.’
Joel put his glasses on and grinned at her wolfishly. ‘You might just have cracked it,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘C’mon, let’s go home.’
‘WOOOO!’ said Fintan.
‘Three hundred!’ said Flora as they walked out of the door – Flora blushing, Joel practically pulling her along.
‘And,’ she said as they walked down the cobbled road to town, even though he kept trying to smother her with kisses on the way, ‘your boys owe me one by the way. Well, not those exact boys. But even so. Do you think they’d fancy helping me out as wedding staff?’
‘I’m not sure child slavery is as good an idea as your other one about the cards.’
‘Work experience?’
‘I’ll ask Jan.’
‘Ask Charlie.’
Chapter Sixty-one
Saif was surprised to see him there in the waiting room. He was running desperately behind: the children had had to get dressed up for Viking day and Ash had run up and down the stairs brandishing a sword and refusing to answer to any other name than Storm Cutter.
But he welcomed him in politely.
Colton sat down and took a deep breath. ‘I need my medication increased.’
Saif stared. ‘I haven’t got your medical notes. I can’t just do these things willy-nilly.’
Colton made a quick phone call, and the notes appeared on Saif’s computer ten seconds later as if by magic. He sat in silence while Saif read them. The prognosis was very grim indeed. Pancreatic cancer was not one of the sexy high-profile ones that got celebrity campaigns. And Colton was very far along. It was so clear when you looked at him, but what was obviously jaundice had been covered up with Colton’s heavy Californian tan. He’d had his teeth whitened, wore sunglasses permanently and absented himself on business. Even so.
‘How are you keeping this from Fintan?’
‘A lot of effort and lying.’
‘I haven’t read much but … I mean, there are experimental treatments …’
‘None of them worth a dime, Doc. The one thing I do know a bit about is where to put my money. And none of them are worth a nut.’
Saif frowned.
‘And it says here you’ve turned down chemo?’
‘Chemo is fucking barbaric, man,’ said Colton, shaking his head. ‘I throw up and fall apart and feel like crap so I get an extra three months.’
‘Three to six …’
‘Yeah, but that’s the winter anyway …’
Saif blinked at Colton’s dark humour and decided to risk responding to it. ‘Won’t that feel longer?’
Colton’s laugh turned into a coughing fit. ‘Thanks, Doc. It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. That lawyer of mine completely fell apart.’ He leaned forward. ‘Morphine and whisky,’ he said. ‘That’s how I’m doing this.’
‘I can’t prescribe whisky,’ said Saif.
‘That’s all right: I bought a distillery.’
Saif raised his eyebrows, unsure if Colton was joking. (He wasn’t.) ‘I’ll get my prescriptions filled on the mainland. Don’t need any busybodies around. But you make sure it’s generous.’
‘There are guidelines,’ said Saif.
‘Fuck ’em,’ said Colton.
Saif stood up. ‘Mr Rogers,’ he said. ‘If you are looking for me to do something I should not do … You know where they would send me back to.’
Colton blinked. He hadn’t thought about it. ‘Gee,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’ For sure he’d find a pharmacist he could bribe somewhere. Things weren’t that hard when you were rich. He stuck out his hand. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘It’s your right to ask,’ Saif said. ‘Believe me, I am sorry to refuse.’
‘Just give me as much as you can.’
Saif had given him as much as was possible without an alarm being raised. ‘Done.’