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By Root 409 0

minutes to eleven. There was nobody there, and for a moment she wondered whether Minty was playing with her, sending her off on a wild goose chase, wasting her time; there were unbalanced people who did that sort of thing. She looked behind her along the path that she had followed from the back of Inverleith House. In the distance a woman wearing a bright red jacket was pushing a small child in a pushchair. The child seemed to be wearing a bonnet of some sort and the woman had a large sunhat on her head. If Jock Dundas came now, he might think that the woman was Minty and that the child was Roderick; he could easily think that.

She turned round again and saw that the door of one of the hothouses was being opened from the inside. A man came out and closed the door behind him. He was not far away and Isabel saw that he was a tall man with a head of dark hair. He looked at her briefly and then up towards the woman on the path behind her. He screwed up his eyes, as the sun was bright, and stared at the other woman, momentarily uncertain.

Isabel was sure now, and was close enough to the man to address him. “No, that’s not her.”

She had approached him from the side, and he spun round sharply.

Isabel smiled. “That woman over there is not Minty.”

The man threw a puzzled glance in the woman’s direction and then looked back at Isabel. “I’m sorry, you are …?”

Isabel was struck by Jock’s profile. Of course Minty had fallen for him. “I’m Isabel Dalhousie,” she said. “I’m a … a friend of Minty’s.”

Jock did not react for a moment. Then he frowned. “Is there something wrong? Is Roderick all right?”

Isabel reassured him. “He’s fine. I’ve come instead of Minty, that’s all.”

At first Jock had been impassive, but now he began to look irritated. “Look, I don’t want to be rude, but I was due to meet Minty. I don’t really see why—”

Isabel cut him short. “Minty is very upset,” she said. “And I want to talk to you about that.”

He shook his head. “I don’t see what any of this has got to do with you.”

“She asked me to speak to you. She wants me to ask you to stop.”

He looked up at the sky. “Sorry, but this really is none of your business.”

You’re quite right, thought Isabel. It’s absolutely none of my business. But she did not say so. She did not like Jock’s attitude. It was the attitude of a bully, and bullies never liked others to become involved in their programmes of intimidation.

She took a deep breath. “Listen, Mr. Dundas. You are treading on very dangerous ground, you know.”

Her remark clearly took him by surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound emerged. Isabel decided to press her advantage; she felt more confident now.

“You have no right,” she began. “You have no right to do what you’re doing. You should count yourself fortunate that Minty hasn’t contacted the police by now.”

Jock’s surprised expression now turned to one of astonishment. “The police? What on earth are you talking about? What have the police got to do with my efforts to see my son?”

He stopped himself, as if he had given away something he had no intention of revealing.

“I know he’s your son,” Isabel said quietly. “I know that.”

“Well then, I have a right to see him, I’d have thought.” There was a note of petulance in his voice.

“But no right to intimidate Minty,” Isabel countered. “Threatening phone calls. Sending a wreath to the house.”

Jock’s look of astonishment returned. “What?” His voice rose. “What are you saying?”

Isabel could tell immediately that his surprise was genuine, and she was entirely thrown by the realisation. Immediately she reached a conclusion: Jock had not been intimidating Minty—that was clear. Either that, or he was a most accomplished actor.

“Come on,” he said angrily. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”

The woman who had been coming down the path was now not far away, and Isabel thought that she could probably hear what was being said. She nodded in the direction of the hothouse door. “Look, can we go inside?”

Jock, still angry, muttered his agreement and they went into the greenhouse. The warmth of