Surprise Baby for the Heir

He took another step into the

room and Elspeth and Malcolm must have heard him, because they both turned to look at him.

‘Well, I’m glad you’re here,’ Elspeth said. ‘I’ll take brain surgery over this. And I say that as someone who has actually performed brain surgery.’

‘I’m suitably impressed,’ Fraser said with a smile, somewhat relieved to find that it was something he could still do. ‘Let me have a look.’

He pushed another chair up to the desk and pulled the laptop towards him. ‘Right, then, tell me what I’m looking at.’

His father scrolled through a few tabs and open programs. ‘Well, there’s the bank accounts, and the investment accounts. Here’s my cash flow spreadsheet.’

‘Who’s the accountant? Still Taylor?’

‘No, I had to let him go a few years back. I’ve been taking care of things myself.’

Fraser gave him a look out of the corner of his eye but resisted saying anything. If he and his father were going to rebuild their relationship one day he was going to have to stop taking cheap shots every time the opportunity presented itself.

He clicked through the windows that Malcolm had left open on the computer and was vaguely aware of the silence that was falling around the three of them as he scrolled through page after page of financial records, trying to resist coming to the conclusion that was becoming harder and harder to escape.

Ballanross was broke. Flat broke. Falling-down broke. His father hadn’t been exaggerating. There simply wasn’t any money. From what he could work out, it was all gone. Investments had been cashed in for repairs and debts, but with them had gone their income and so the cycle had begun. The situation had gone from bad to worse, and then to worse still, until now there was nothing left, and the mother of his child was walking over a rotting floor four storeys up.

He rubbed his hands through his hair, hoping for the figures to change in front of his eyes, to persuade him that circumstances weren’t as bad as he was reading.

‘Dad... This is...this is bad.’

‘Mmmph.’

The hint of a smile in that one simple syllable made Fraser realise that he’d used the word ‘Dad’ for the first time since he’d been back. It had fallen from his lips without him thinking.

It was a start.

‘What else do I need to know?’ Fraser asked, trying to keep his mind on the numbers. On something that he could make sense of.

He was already coming up with ideas to increase their income. How they could use the incredible natural resources of Ballanross to attract visitors and businesses to the area. To halt the decay of the castle until they had the money they needed to make real improvements. He could see it in his mind. He could see the rooms gleaming as they did in his memory. He could see the woodlands properly managed and flourishing. He could see his child running through the halls as if they were a playground, like in his earliest memories.

‘You know what? Never mind,’ he said. ‘We need to go back to basics. Let’s look at outgoings first. Where’s that bank statement?’

His father pulled it up on the computer and Fraser went through it again, more slowly this time. He asked questions occasionally, when it wasn’t clear what an expense was, and made a few notes on the spreadsheet.

Until he got to a name he recognised and his blood ran cold.

‘What is this?’ Fraser asked. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, and he hoped that his father wasn’t about to say what he was expecting.

His father hesitated for long enough for Fraser to know that he was right, even before he said, ‘It’s nothing important, Fraser. It’s Louise, my...wife. My ex-wife. We’re still friends, you see, and she needed to borrow some money for a few weeks. I said I’d loan it to her.’

Fraser could feel the blood rushing to his face as his hands tightened into fists. He fought the reaction down, trying to keep his emotions under control. ‘You’re lending money to the woman you chose over me while our home is falling down around you? What’s wrong with you?’

‘Ach, Fraser, it’s not like that. It’s a small loan. If you let me explain...’

Explain? What could he possibly say that would explain this? He didn’t want to know that his father was still in touch with his ex-wife. He didn’t want to see her name or be reminded that she existed. His father had sacrificed everything for her, for a marriage that had lasted only two years. A flash-in-the-pan relationship that had cost Fraser his family as he knew it.

To know that his dad was still in touch with her, when he himself hadn’t spoken to him for so long... He didn’t know why that hurt so badly, given that he was the one who had walked away.

He rose to his feet, thinking that perhaps movement would help. That he would be able to walk off this restlessness, settle his heartbeat and find some calm. But instead, as he thought more about how his father had chosen her, that other woman, he could feel himself growing more and more angry. Emotions that had been long buried were forcing their way out, pushing him closer and closer to losing control. Tension ripped up through his core, stiffening his shoulders, moving back down to his arms and his fists, and he knew that he was closer than he had ever been to losing control of his feelings.

He headed for the door. Needing to be outside. Needing to escape that toxic atmosphere and get himself back in control. He charged out of the front door out into the grounds and strode across the gravel without a thought to the cold or to the direction he was walking.

* * *