by Ruth Hay
Fiona of Glenmorie
Ruth Hay
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Afterword
Also by Ruth Hay
About This Book
Fiona of Glenmorie is the eighth story in the Prime Time series and companion novel to
Return to Oban: Anna’s Next Chapter
Readers should note that this novel reunites them with characters from other books and series by Ruth Hay, including Rena and Steve Collins from the thriller Borderlines.
* * *
Fiona Campbell is living a life she could never have imagined. With a busy husband, three children and a Net Zero house in the depths of the Glenmorie Estate, she has more than enough to handle, but she has learned life never stays still for long. There is always another challenge.
In Oban, Scotland, in the tight-knit community of Anna Mason Drake’s friends, there are exciting events on the horizon.
______
“The bond that links our true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life.”
Richard Bach
Chapter One
Fiona stood on the ramparts of the castle and breathed deeply of the air, redolent with burgeoning spring. She came up here only on rare occasions, but on this day she was free for an hour or two and had a chance to stand on high and watch for osprey or eagle sightings.
The breeze whipped her faded Campbell tartan skirt around her knees but Gordon’s old fisherman’s knit jumper kept the chill out. Over her shoulder was a leather satchel holding binoculars and a notepad. Keeping track of wild birds was a habit and a pleasure. Her connections to the Scottish Wildlife Association were just as active as when she had been one of their full-time officers.
Was that a male osprey?
She pushed strands of her auburn hair behind an ear and lifted the binoculars for a closer look.
It was a male osprey carrying a huge trout in its claws on its way back to the nest to feed a clutch of young. There were two nests on the estate, far apart from each other. Osprey returned each year to a favoured site, replenishing the massive nest with fresh branches, balanced on top of a tall tree with good lines of sight around it. The parent birds flew to Scotland from West Africa for a brief period of five weeks during which the male bird alone would be responsible for bringing fish to the nest from rivers in the area where trout and salmon were spawning.
She watched the huge brown and white wings labour to keep the bird in the air. The trout’s head faced front so as to be more aerodynamic. Every successful food delivery across miles to the nest was only one in four attempts but each strike from a height giving attention to the wind direction and the depth of the water in which the fish swam, was calculated to the last second.
Fiona thrilled to see a sight seen by only a few people. She would note the details and wait to see if the male osprey made a return flight after the drop-off.
* * *
Gordon had just departed for the daily inspection of his estate with Neil strapped into a seat beside him in the Land Rover. He would hoist Neil, a hefty weight at almost eighteen months, into a carrier on his back for the section of his tour that involved climbing and walking.
She wondered, not for the first time, if her husband had the intention to declare Neil his eventual heir. First son, Fergus, despite looking like a smaller version of his father, had not displayed significant interest in the business of running Glenmorie. Perversely, as some might think, Fergus was following in his mother’s footsteps and devoted his spare time to examining any living animal, bird or insect that lived on the estate. Fergus loved the land all right, but the details of operating the vast estate bored him to tears.
Fiona smiled a secret smile. She suspected her husband was due for a big surprise one of these days. Their daughter Shona was the one most likely to inherit owing to her analytical brain and her grasp of finances. Shona loved math and money and would be the best possible person to keep the estate afloat in the coming years. Since the Campbell clan chief title of Duke of Argyll, belonged to the inhabitants of Inveraray Castle, their lesser Campbell sect were free to choose a daughter over a son as future Laird.
Lairdess or just Lady? Or a new title completely?
As the daughter of a local fisherman and his wife, Fiona Campbell had no knowledge of the intricacies of Scottish inheritance laws and customs, beyond the basics she acquired on her marriage.
She used to wake up in the master bedroom of this same stone-built Glenmorie Castle on which she now stood, astonished to find herself in the four-poster bed with Gordon by her side. The contrast between this and the tiny Oban row cottage, in which she lived with her Granny, was something it took her years to become accustomed to.
With her family firmly established in their new Net Zero house in the woods where they were independent from the township services, and nicely hidden from curious eyes, she felt so much more at home as a mother and wife instead of a woman bearing the fancy title of Lady. There were few occasions when she felt worthy of the title, mostly when they were hosting a special party of tourists for a formal meal in the Great Hall, several floors below her now.
Not that she was unwilling to do her part to promote and maintain the estate. As a former Scottish Wildlife Officer, she was deeply interested in the creatures who found refuge in the grand moors and forests, streams and deep lochs of their lands. She also acknowledged the necessity to welcome visitors who paid for the privilege of fishing in the rivers or hunting deer and game on the heather-clad moors and hills, but these were not her prime concerns.
Children came first, after Gordon, then her hobby of wildlife photography which took her out roaming on the estate when time and weather permitted.
Fergus loved to accompany her on these expeditions during school holidays but his preferred activity was always in drawing their finds, sometimes from her series of photographs. Shona tagged along but her interest was in human history rather than natural history and she searched for signs of former inhabitants of the estate, turning over rocks and investigating old maps which her father unearthed for her from the castle archives.
It was a good life. No, a great life for all of them. They were blessed in so many ways.
She glanced at her watch. The school bus would be dropping off her two older children soon.
This thought reminded her of the problem of where Fergus should go for his secondary school education.
In a few months he would be finished with primary school in Oban. He could go on to Fort William with the majority of his class but he really required something, or someplace, more suited to his talents.
She did not yet want to contemplate an art school education in Glasgow. He was likely heading that way eventually, but he was still too young to be on his own. Neither did she want to send him off to Inverness where she had taken her degree. The distance precluded that option also.
It was a predicament that required a solution sooner rather than later. She had enlisted the Oban school’s new headmistress, Rena Collin
s, in this quest. Mrs. Collins was Canadian and brought with her some advanced ideas about education, having been a college instructor at a Toronto university before marrying in England and coming to Scotland with her husband, Steve, for a job opportunity.
Rena was related to Caroline Fenton whose partner, James Patterson, was the son of Bev, married to the shepherd Alan Matthews. And so the Collins couple were immediately adopted into the circle of Canadians, and Scots who revolved around Anna Mason Drake and her McCaig Estate House outside the town.
In only a few months, the Collins’ had become integrated into Oban life in a remarkable way. They rented a house near Jeanette and George McLennan on the hill above the town. George became their solicitor and advisor and his wife was responsible for introducing Rena to a group of young mothers who were strong supporters of her Canadian teaching methods.
* * *
Fiona’s musings were suddenly interrupted by the high call of a hawk cruising over the forest in the vicinity of the Net Zero house. She smiled. The adults most often called it the Ecology house. The children hearing the word so often made it into a rhyme of sorts;
Eco, Reco, Yours and Meco,
Sun, Wind and all that’s Freeco.
From this chant came their common name for the house that stuck with the adults also; Meco.
It was a home, still in development, as time, the seasons and the weather, required adjustments.
On the whole, it was a triumph of forward thinking on Gordon’s part and was acknowledged as such by a number of companies and publications with an interest in future energy-saving building techniques.
Steve Collins was included in that roster. His work with the Argyll and Bute County Council Building Projects drew him to inspect the Meco house and become an advocate of its merits. He often consulted with Gordon on recent development ideas.
Fiona liked Steve but she had to admit to a special fondness for Rena. She belonged to the local Canadian Contingent of whom Anna was the first and the most important.
She it was who had encouraged the young girl who originally drove her around in a car. She helped her get education, adopted her, almost as a substitute daughter, and together they had raised the Wildcat kit in Anna’s kitchen.
Fiona thought of this singular event as the beginning of her determination to pursue a qualification in wild life studies. When her beloved Granny died, leaving Fiona alone in the world, Anna became her primary source of companionship and comfort. There was always a welcome from Anna Mason Drake whenever she was in Oban.
How she missed that contact. Sometimes the job of being ‘all things to all people’ was tiring. She occasionally felt depleted and Anna was the perfect person to lift one up and make the day seem brighter. Although Anna had returned to Oban last summer for a few months she had been back in Ontario over the winter again and now she was in England with her forever friend Alina for a new treatment said to do miracles for those suffering from macular degeneration.
Caroline and James were staying in Anna’s big Estate house for a few weeks during her absence.
Fiona did not know Caroline well. She worked in Brussels at the European Parliament and was recently immersed in the Brexit negotiations until James persuaded her they both badly needed a break from the pressures of these highly divisive political negotiations.
As James’ mother, Bev, one of the original Samba group of Anna’s closest friends, lived on the Matthews’ farm quite close to Anna’s Estate house, it was met with pure delight by Bev and Alan when her elder son decided to stay there, so close by, for weeks rather than a day here and there. Bev had always longed for a chance to get to know Caroline Fenton, the brilliant woman who had captured her son’s heart years before in the English Lake District.
Only Anna was missing, but there was hope she would return when Alina’s eyes had recovered.
Fiona could hardly wait.
Chapter Two
“Mistress Fiona! The school bus is in the courtyard and the driver says Fergus has a note for you from the headmistress.”
“Oh, Donald, I was dreaming. It’s such a beauty of a day and so peaceful up here. I’ll follow you right down.”
“Mind the stairs, now. Don’t be rushing.”
It was an old refrain, oft repeated to visitors. The curving, stone staircase winding through the tall tower house was built to discourage right-handed swordsmen from attacking while invading. It required concentration to descend the wedge-shaped steps even with the aid of a rope railing. The children could run up and down at speed but Fiona had never managed to acquire the skill level that made the downward journey easy. Carrying Fergus as a babe in her arms made her ever more wary of these stairs and Donald knew it well.
It was another reason why she was delighted when her husband suggested moving into a new modern home in the forest.
As soon as she emerged into the sunlight of the courtyard, all her previous wandering thoughts disappeared. This was her life. Shona and Fergus were waiting by the bus, waving goodbye to their departing friends, and Fergus held in his hand the note from Rena Collins. Hamish, the current Great Dane dog, stood patiently by the children waiting to resume their play. He insisted on accompanying the children whenever they were at home.
Fiona tucked the note into her skirt pocket for later. She hugged both children and asked the usual question, “How was your day?” only to receive the usual answer, “Fine!” which she knew would be expanded upon later, during baths and bedtime.
“Donald said you were up on the ramparts, Mum. What did you see?”
“I saw an osprey and a hawk hovering over the Meco house. We’d better get there fast and see what he was hunting.”
“I hope my ferrets didn’t get loose again. Dad put a new hook on the shed door but they are tricky little creatures.”
Fergus ran off ahead with Hamish, and Fiona walked along with her daughter at a slower pace. It was some distance to the Meco house but when the weather was good she encouraged the children to walk. There was always something new to see in the trees or native plants and they needed the exercise after a whole day in school.
“Where’s Neil, Mum?”
“He went off with your Dad this afternoon. He’ll be hungry when he gets home, no doubt.”
“I want to feed him. He’s so funny when he tastes something new.”
“Fine with me, but let’s look over your homework first.”
“Do you know, Mum, our headmistress says children don’t really need homework all the time. It’s a Canadian idea, I think. She says if we work hard in school and get daily stuff finished, we should do more active things afterward. She says she runs every chance she gets and with her husband she wants to climb Ben Nevis and the Munros one day.”
“Very impressive! Mrs. Collins does look very fit.
I agree with Mrs. Collins about less homework and more exercise, Shona. How do the other teachers feel?”
“Well now!” Shona pulled on her strawberry-blonde ponytail, a brighter version of her mother’s auburn hair, to straighten it. She assumed a grown-up air as she replied.
“I think they were a bit annoyed by her at first, but when they saw this idea meant they had less marking to do first thing in the day, they decided she was quite smart for an incomer.”
Fiona laughed. This opinion of Rena Collins was shared by Jeanette McLennan whose two children went to the same town school.
It always surprised Fiona how observant children were. Shona was not one to miss a thing. She could be counted on to give a breakdown of the knowledge levels of all the children in her class as well as the skills of the individual teachers.
They walked on in silence for a time until they spotted the rhododendron tree with its vibrant pink blossom heads nodding to them in the breeze and stood to admire the sight.
“Mum, do you think the note is about me?”
“Oh, Shona, my love! I’m certain sure it’s nothing to do with you. Why? Are you worried about something?”
; She hoisted her backpack higher on her shoulder and turned to look at her mother.
“It’s just that I helped wee Annette today at recess. One of the big boys was bothering her and I gave him a bit of a push when he told me off. I didna hurt him, ye ken, but he was crying like a bairn when he went inside.”
Fiona noted the local dialect occurring when Shona felt emotional or worried and she rushed to reassure her daughter.
“I will check with Mrs. McLennan about Annette as soon as we get home. I’m sure you did the right thing and she will be grateful.”
“Do you think me and Fergus can go to the McLennans to play with Liam and Annette on the weekend if everything’s all right?”
“I imagine that will be approved. I’ll let you know.”
A few minutes later they arrived on the edge of the property. Fiona’s heart lifted as it always did.
The Meco house stood on a natural rise in a clearing surrounded by trees. It faced south to catch the sun and its solar roof panels were on automated tilt mechanisms to capture every possible ray. In spite of this advantage, it was necessary to have a backup generator for dull, cold days. The generator was not in use on this fine spring day but, in the winter it was a costly item. Fiona knew the house was a triumph of hope over nature in the Scottish climate, but it was an expensive option that would take years to pay off completely.
