“Congrats, bro,” he said, with some difficulty. “Glad you’ve met someone.”
Fintan started shaking his hand, but they ended up in an uncomfortable hug.
“Mum would have liked him,” he said.
“Mum knew?”
“Of course she knew. She didn’t tell you?”
“No, she just skited us round the ears if we ever wound you up.”
“You deserved it.”
“I suppose we did. But yeah, she would have liked him—he’s got money.”
“Oi!” said Flora.
“What! Excuse me, fancy-pants posh girl, what was that exactly?”
“She might have liked him because he’s nice.”
Hamish raised a hand.
“Well done, mate.”
“No problem.”
They all turned to Eck. He was still sitting there, shell-shocked.
“Dad?” said Flora. She wondered if it was too early for whisky, and decided it was not.
“Oh weel,” said Eck. “Weel weel weel weel.”
Flora put a hand on his shoulder. Fintan was trying to look unconcerned, but Agot was in his arms and he was holding her very tightly in a way that betrayed his nerves.
“I DOES LOVE PEPPA,” she said again, hoping to repeat the positive effect this had had the first time.
“Weel . . .”
Eck seemed almost untethered with confusion.
“Are you all right, Dad?” Flora knelt down at his elbow. “It’s okay, you know,” she said. “It’s okay.”
Eck shook his head.
“I know,” he said in a bewildered tone. “I know youse all think I’m an ancient fuddy-duddy from the dawn of time.”
“Why would we think that, Dad?” said Innes. “Just because you are an ancient fuddy-duddy from the dawn of time.”
“You know, in those days,” said Eck, ignoring him. “I mean, what the minister said at the kirk . . . that was all we needed, you know. That was how we lived and what we all believed. And everything was normal.”
“No, that’s what people pretended to believe,” said Fintan. “Think back. You must know that’s true. What about old Mr. MacIlvaney, who ran the sweetshop? He never married, he lived with his mother. Why do you think he got so fat?”
“Because he ran a sweetie shop,” said their father.
“NO!” said Fintan. “Because he was repressed. Because he had to hide what he was. You can’t look at the past and think that life wasn’t like that just because it wasn’t talked about. Because it absolutely certainly was.”
“But the kirk—”
“Och, the kirk was as bad as the rest. Worse.”
Eck sighed.
“Nothing changed, you know. My life was much the same as my grandfather’s, which was the same as his grandfather’s, and so on, and so on. And then suddenly, BANG. Everyone wants everything and it all changes.”
Flora shook her head.
“I promise, Dad, it hasn’t changed. Not that much. Not compared to the world outside.”
“That’s why I never bother with the mainland,” said Eck.
“Quite right too,” said Flora. “But you can handle this, can’t you?”
Eck looked up.
“Do I have to like it?”
“Naw,” said Fintan.
“Is this why you hate working on the farm?”
“No,” said Fintan. “I hate working on the farm because it’s shit hard and freezing half the year.”
“The other boys dinnae mind.”
“I don’t like it either,” said Innes.
Eck’s face really fell then.
“Hamish?”
Hamish shrugged.
“I’d rather be inside sometimes,” he said quietly. This was a very long speech for Hamish.
Eck got up. The sunshine was glowing over the fields, even as a stiff wind blew through the tall, spiky grass of the dunes.
“Bramble! Bracken!” he growled. “Get in noo. Dhu going fur a walk.”
The dogs leaped up, looking round warily, as if they could sense the atmosphere. Eck grabbed his old stick from the doorway and strode away, Bramble and Bracken at his heels.
The siblings looked at each other.
“Well,” said Flora, cautiously. “That went—”
Innes had already turned round.
“You’re dating a millionaire?” he said to Fintan.
“Ah. No,” said Fintan.
“What?”
“Kind of a billionaire,” said Fintan, and Innes swore mightily.
“What do you want to work for, then?”
“Because I do.”
“Can he give us a million pounds for the farm?”
“No,” said Fintan. “That’s not how you get rich.”
“Oh, like you’d know.”
Flora dished up steak pie, and she and Fintan set out their plan around the table: a restaurant farm, belonging to the Rock and growing everything the Rock needed and wanted for its menus—seaweed; dairy, including the cheeses; meat, obviously.
“It’ll mean going all organic,” said Flora. “And getting specialists in to advise on the best crops, not just what will grow.”
“That will cost a fortune,” said Innes.
“That’s where the investment comes in. Seriously, Innes. Flying cattle to the mainland. How’s that going to work as a long-term strategy? You’re getting killed by the mega farms and you know it. It’s a downward spiral. And people are going to come here who aren’t going to mind paying a proper price for milk and butter, and the best meat and wonderful fresh ingredients. We’d be mad not to.”
“But to lose the farm . . .”
“The farm isn’t going anywhere,” said Flora sternly.
“They’ll be happy to brand everything with the MacKenzie name,” said Fintan. “Gives it proper authenticity to be a family farm.”
“But it won’t be ours.”
“Technically, no.”
“So it won’t be Agot’s one day,” said Innes. Agot had, in the commotion, quietly stolen into Flora’s handbag and was now smearing lipstick all over her face.
“Yeah, that’s a loss,” said Flora.
They sat there, looking at each other.
“I don’t know if we have a choice,” said Fintan.
“Well, no, you wouldn’t,” said Innes. “What if you two break up? Do you have to give all the money back?”
“Actually,” said Fintan, “I have a very good lawyer who’s going to take care of all that for me.” He looked at Flora.
“Hamish,” she said. “What do you think?”
“Will I get more money,” said Hamish, “if I work for the restaurant?”
“Yes,” said Flora.
“Enough to buy a car?”
“Yup.”
Hamish nodded. Everyone waited, but this appeared to be all he had to say on the topic.
“Well . . .,” said Flora.
Just then there was a knock at the door. Most Mure people just rapped and walked in—that is, if the door was even shut in the first place. Eventually Innes got up and answered it.
Charlie was standing there, twisting his hat.
“Hello,” he said.
“Tractor’s outside,” said Innes.
“No, no. I don’t need that.”
He looked around the room, saw all the brothers and Agot there, and went very pink about the ears, not his normal, stolidly calm self at all.
“Um,” he said. “Flora.”
The boys, delighted that the pressure of all the serious conversation was suddenly off, leaned back cheerfully in their chairs.
“Flora!” said Fintan. “Someone’s here to see you!”