Saving Nathaniel Read Free Page B

distance. I'll keep my head down, and do my job and not get involved. A man like him could drain me dry, but I won't let him. It's just a job. He's just my temporary employer. It's only for a few months.'
    In her own mind at least, her argument sounded convincing enough.
     
    The TV weather forecast finished and the bulletins turned to sport. Paul, quickly engrossed, paid no heed to the women's resumed conversation.
    'So what did Mr. Mackie have to say?' Rebecca asked, dragging Megan out of her thoughts.
    'Nothing much,' she said. 'There was a bit of chitchat, a passing mention of the weather, a sort of an interview, the giving of orders and instructions and explanation of how I should have plenty to do…and then he threw me out into the rain again.'
    'He didn't ask about me, did he?'
    'Er…no, not really. Sorry.'
    'No, he wouldn't,' Rebecca muttered, and rubbed her painful plastered arm as it rested in its sling.
    Megan took another large drink and topped up her glass. 'I left the notebook behind and he looked at it. He seems to think we missed a few things out.'
    'Like what?'
    'He was quite specific about my not trespassing in his study, almost threatening in fact.'
    'Did he suspect you had already been in there snooping about?'
    Megan shook her head. 'No, I don't think so…and I wasn't snooping, I was just getting the lie of the land. He does seem pretty firm about maintaining his privacy - stay out of my private space or else is what it basically comes down to. So I have to ask, Becks, is there anything else you might have forgotten to mention? I don't want something trivial upsetting the applecart.'
    Rebecca shook her head slowly. 'I don't think so. But after all these years it's all just second nature to me; I can't remember every tiny detail. If I think of anything I promise I'll tell you.'
    Megan stretched out her legs and rested her head on the back of the chair, letting her eyes fall closed. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and the wine being rapidly absorbed by her empty stomach was beginning to have a not unpleasant effect on her head.
    'What do you think then?' Rebecca asked. 'Do you think you can keep in his good books long enough…until I'm better?'
    'It's more a question of whether he can stay in mine,' Megan said. 'I think he got the message that I won't truck any nonsense from him. I'll do my best for him, but if he doesn't like it, tough, he can take care of himself. Providing he plays fair, I think we're going to get along just fine.'
    She sat up and gulped down the last of her wine. Her day's work was not yet quite over. 'What do you want for dinner?' she asked.
     
    Home alone at Struan Lodge, Nathaniel Mackie absent-mindedly thumbed through the notebook Megan had left behind again. It was full of neatly handwritten directives, essential for the smooth running of a house of Struan's size, and some notes pertaining to him in particular.
    One page mentioned coffee and cheese, his two main addictions, were always to be in stock, even listing his favourite brands. Another page detailed how she should keep an eye on the liquor stock, to remember that what was on view was not always the truth and to be aware that he kept a bottle hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk. 'How the hell did she know about that?'
    Next to the note, he spotted a cryptic symbol; an upward arrow and punctuation marks arranged to resemble a sad face. 'And what is that supposed to mean?'
    He puzzled over the mark, turning the book over to get another angle, but was unable to decode its significance. He dismissed it as probably not important, put the book aside and poured himself another stiff measure of Southern Comfort. He filled his mouth with his favourite comforting liquid and thought back over his first day with his new housekeeper.
    He realised now that his first perception that she might be a little bird-brained could not have been more wide of the mark. She was confident and obviously highly intelligent, and he had to admit