by Ruth Hay
He pulled her after him and soon they emerged into daylight but he did not stop until they were both inside the bothy. When he saw Shona’s teeth were chattering he pulled the bottle of lemonade out of his backpack and gave it to her.
He waited.
Colour came back into her cheeks.
He waited.
She offered him the bottle after taking a sip or two.
“Now, Shona! Tell me!”
It was a considerable while before he could assemble all the parts of her rambling story and make sense of them but, in the end, he understood.
There was a very good chance indeed, that they had found something extremely interesting.
Chapter Ten
Fiona and Gordon made the drive to the Arts School on a day when the older children were in school and Marie was looking after Neil for a trial period during the few hours of this preliminary expedition.
It was like a holiday away from their usual pursuits for the adults. Each of them had a deep love for Scotland and they liked nothing better than a drive north, taking roads away from the main coastal routes and relishing all the early signs of spring along the way.
Fiona took the opportunity to bring her husband up to date with her recent discoveries.
“So, Eleanor was very helpful. I have some ideas about bringing tourists to Glenmorie but nothing on the scale of Inveraray of course.”
“I should hope not. That September thing they do must take a year’s worth of planning. We don’t have the man, or woman, power to set that in motion.”
“True! But I think we could gather some volunteers for short periods to help us.”
She was thinking of the web of connections around Anna. Not only were women like Bev and Jeanette running businesses that could contribute, but they also had workers of their own who would come along to help advertise their services to the general public. The more the program could benefit the community as a whole, the easier it would be to get support.
“I was thinking along the lines of setting up stalls in the forecourt. From there we could do tours of the estate, including Meco, of course. The castle tour is obvious and we would have teas set up in the Great Hall. At the ground level entrance we can put up displays of my photographs showing you and Donald with clients happily fishing and hunting.”
Gordon was listening intently as well as following his GPS instructions to get to the Arts School, but Fiona’s ideas had sparked his interest.
“Your wildlife photographs deserve a booklet of their own. You should make a display of framed photos for people to purchase.
I do see what you mean, Fiona. We need to use the advantages we have and incorporate local businesses wherever possible.”
For a minute or so, they drove in silence but Fiona knew her husband’s brain was working overtime.
“Do you think we could cobble something together before the end of the summer holidays? Most of the tourists from England are around Oban then.”
“I think it’s worth a try. We will need to have an advertising campaign in place sooner rather than later. I will contact our friends first and see what can be done in that time frame.”
“How much money do you think we can make?”
“It’s hard to say. We have to start somewhere. The Duchess indicated it’s a learning experience at first so we should stay small and see what the public likes the most.”
“I agree. Whatever we decide on, it all has to fit in with our other responsibilities and the work of the estate.
Now, Fiona Campbell, we are fast approaching Glengarry Collegiate. Let’s try to see it through Fergus’ eyes. I am reluctant to send the laddie here unless it will be a huge benefit to him.”
“Right you are, Gordon! Antennae at the ready!”
They spent an hour touring the old stone mansion that had been converted into a virtual palace of the arts. Professor Morrison explained that most of the interior was new but they had retained the exterior that fit in so perfectly with the surrounding gardens and woods.
“The new buildings, housing our students who board here during the week, are concealed behind the mansion, and of course they have the latest in heating and shower facilities. The children share a two-bed study room and there are separate buildings for the boys and girls. Each building has a teacher or matron who has an office and a room there for night supervision.
I am so glad you chose to visit during term time. Please do look around and feel free to ask the staff or children any questions. Come back to my office later and we can talk more over tea and sandwiches.
We have a very good kitchen here. Children must feed their bodies as well as their creative energies, I find.”
Fiona and Gordon climbed the centre stair to the upper classrooms with barely-concealed laughter.
“My goodness!” whispered Fiona. “She’s the image of Professor McGonagall from Hogwarts.”
“Give her a pointed black hat and she could stand in for Maggie Smith anytime. I wonder what the students here think of their professor?”
“I looked online and the reports are all excellent. Keep your eyes and ears open Gordon.”
Their self-guided tour included music, dance and art studios. There were also more high-tech workshops for computer design and craft-making. There was a buzz of activity everywhere and both students and teachers were keen to explain what their individual or group projects involved.
Fiona found it challenging to tell which were the teachers and which the senior students.
The atmosphere was informal and there were few children sitting in classrooms for small-group instruction. Instead, there were corners in each work area where children could consult computers for instructional videos. Teachers worked alongside the children.
One male teacher explained that staff had their own projects, often geared toward new materials or techniques that they could introduce to their students if they proved to be worthwhile.
Gordon’s comments were that he could see where the high fees went as this was a remarkably creative situation. Fiona was astonished at the open doors everywhere and the lack of noisy bells to signal classroom changes.
“It’s a place Fergus would enjoy with plenty of like-minded companions. The students seem to be self-motivated in an incredible way. I saw older pupils helping out the younger ones and not making a big fuss about it.”
* * *
They concluded their tour in the Principal’s office where Professor Morrison explained that prospective students must have a high academic standard to be accepted.
“As you will have observed, the curriculum is geared to creative endeavours, but we do have two days a week in which more formal studies are emphasized. Groups of students are circulated through the standard curriculum on those days. It’s intensive coaching which is not onerous and allows the academics to be maintained without stultifying the enjoyment of the arts.
However, most of our graduates will go on to employment in artistic fields, as you can imagine.”
The final comment from the learned Professor was an invitation to join the audience for the end-of-year production to which their son was cordially invited.
After enjoying an excellent selection of sandwiches and cakes, Gordon’s response was to ask for the fee schedule and to enquire if could they arrange for payment per term for the first year.
All that remained was to ensure they could afford it.
When Shona and Fergus arrived home by school bus, both their parents were waiting for them.
As this was a fairly unusual event, in their experience, Shona and Fergus exchanged enquiring looks. They knew they had secrets and they wondered if something had been discovered and they were about to be questioned about it.
To their relief, the discussion over milk and muffins was on the subject of Fergus’ further schooling.
“I want you to hear about this, Shona,” said Gordon. “Although you are interested in different things from your brother, the idea of specialized learning is
something you need to know about.”
As her parents waxed lyrical about their visit to Glengarry Collegiate, Shona found her mind wandering to the hillside far away and the secrets they had unveiled there.
Fergus, on the other hand, was hanging on every word from his parents’ mouths and when he asked questions, he became even more excited by the answers.
“Look son, your mother and I think this is a grand place but it’s up to you to decide. It means living away from home during the week. Give yourself some time to think about all that, laddie. We don’t need to do anything just yet. You should definitely visit the place for yourself and see what’s on offer.”
“It’s a big step, Fergus,” added his mother. “You might decide to wait a couple of years before you go.”
She was feeling the tug of letting her eldest go off into the world as a young teenager. She had not thought this would happen so soon but she knew her own strong personality had been formed by her responses to necessity when she was younger than her older son was now. Fergus had his father’s strength of mind as well as her own. He would make his way in the world. She had no doubt, but it caused a pang in her heart to think of him being gone all week.
When Fiona went off to attend to Neil and confer with Marie, Shona and Fergus drifted away to check up on their various projects in the garden, before supper was ready. They soon arrived in the shed and closed the door for privacy.
“Did you look in the online resources like you said you would?”
“Of course.”
“Well then! What did you find out?”
“Shona, there’s nothing I could see, even in the British Museum sites, to indicate any record of the identical patterns we found on those small stones in the bothy or the cairn.”
“Nothing?” His sister’s disappointment was obvious.
“I looked hard, ye ken! There’s a wee chance the marks could be related to the Vikings but……………………”
“Really? Vikings? That would be very exciting, Fergus. What did you find out about them?”
“Hold your horses, Shona, and let me finish. There’s no record of Vikings in this exact spot of west Scotland although there is evidence of them further north, of course, and in Ireland.
Another problem is, the Vikings carried cloth game boards with them and no stone versions have ever been uncovered, so far, at least.”
“Fergus Campbell! Will you stop lecturing me and tell me what you think you found.”
“Right! If you insist, little sister. I believe the inscriptions on the stones correspond to the playing pieces of a game popular with Scandinavians from as early as 400AD. It’s called ‘King’s Table’.
The king piece stands in the middle of the board. It’s the one we found with the four interlocking triangles. There are defender pieces and enemy pieces that try to capture the king.”
“You mean it’s like chess?”
“Could be an early version of chess, I suppose. The Vikings carried this game with them wherever they went so it was important to them.”
“Huh!” Shona leaned back against the shelves on the shed wall and tried to remember what she had read about Vikings.
“Are you telling me these vicious murdering warriors were sitting around a campfire playing board games between slaying the local populations and invading monasteries?”
“Shona! King’s Table is a strategy game. It’s meant to train warriors to defeat enemies that surround them. It’s a lot more than a simple game.”
She tugged on her ponytail to give herself a moment to think.
“So, Fergus, if this game is so popular, does it matter that you found it at all? It’s not a new discovery or anything.”
“It’s not new, exactly, but it is interesting where we found it.”
“But an archaeology person looked at the site, so Dad said, and found nothing of interest.”
Fergus’ chest swelled at this reminder. It was a point of pride that he had found something overlooked by an expert.
“I fancy more experts will be interested in this site now that we discovered something important.
And, don’t forget, Shona, the oak trees you saw on the crest of the hill are also worth noting.
Could be a Druid circle there or something even older and more rare.”
The two siblings looked at each other as they absorbed this information. Several thoughts raced through their minds, but without further discussion, they reached the same conclusion.
Shona expressed it first.
“You know how Mum always says we should tell them the truth, no matter what kind of trouble we’re in?”
“Yes?”
“I think we need to do that right now.”
Chapter Eleven
Jeanette McLennan got the good news from Anna Drake early in the morning.
“I couldn’t wait to tell you. I know you will spread the news around all our friends.”
“This is wonderful! It’s like a miracle! Alina must be beyond pleased about the chance to get her sight back. How long do you think it will be before you two can travel north?”
“I can’t say yet, Jeanette, but as soon as we get the ‘all clear’ from the surgeon we will be on a train to Glasgow and Oban.”
“You sound a bit weary, Anna. You are not overdoing it, are you?”
“Not at all! Zoe and Wesley have been marvellous and lately they have been taking us around with the children to see the sights we have been missing. It has been a long struggle to get the operation for Alina with frustrations along the way but all that is over now. The operation is scheduled for two weeks from today.”
“Excellent news! Do you want me to let Caroline and James know?”
“Yes, tell Bev first of all. If they wish to stay on in the McCaig Estate House there’s enough space, of course. I don’t want to force them out. But if they choose to leave, there’s room at Bev and Alan’s.
How do you think the youngsters have been managing?”
“I’d say very well indeed! Bev says James is planning big changes. He wants to get Caroline out of the pressure cooker in Brussels. This time in your house as a couple has done wonders for them.”
“Good! I was hoping for that. It’s high time that young man settled down.”
“Bev will agree with you, for sure!’
The conversation ended in chuckles as the women acknowledged they were conspiring to make things happen.
It was with this thought in mind that Jeanette turned to the problem of Edmund Jansen’s care and comfort. She had not forgotten his appearance during the surgery visit with her mother. Such a valuable asset to the community deserved better care or he might be seduced by more convenient surroundings in a large town practice.
If only Ashley would return to Scotland and take up residence with Edmund. Jeanette feared the situation might reach breaking point before that if someone did not intervene.
More than simple housekeeping was required. She could easily send one of her cleaning crew along to do basic housework on the small cottage. What Dr. Jansen required was more along the lines of home comforts like a hot meal at the end of the day and sympathetic company.
Jeanette McLennan concluded that she had to take control.
Entering her husband’s study, she browsed through his old-fashioned rotary card system and soon found the contact information for Edmund’s mother. No one in Oban had met Christine. Her son had travelled to the east coast with Ashley to see her over Christmas for a brief time when they were first engaged, but to Jeanette’s knowledge Edmund had not been outside of Oban since then. Perhaps it was time to change that.
She took a deep breath and dialed the phone number on the index card. The phone rang several times before a pleasant Scottish voice came on the line.
“Hello! Christine Jansen here. Who’s calling?”
“Hello, Mrs. Jansen, I am calling from Oban.”
There was a sharp intake of breath and Jeanette realized she had caused the woman
concern. She began at once to make amends.
“Oh, please don’t worry! It’s not bad news. This is Jeanette McLennan. I am calling to ask you if you might manage a short trip here. Ashley’s family and friends would really like to get to know you now Edmund is such an important part of our community. Were you by chance considering a visit here in the near future?”
There was a lengthy silence that did not bode well.
Jeanette began to wonder if she was going too far. Her mother, Jean, had accused her more than once of sticking her nose in where it was not wanted.
Before she could back down and apologise, a stream of words assaulted her ears.
“Well now, chance would be a fine thing. Ed talks on the phone for three minutes a week and that’s all I get these days. I am a widow, you know. It’s a lonely life, particularly in the winter months. I hardly know his Ashley at all. Frankly, Jeanette I feel quite cut off from everything. I would love an invitation from Ed but I can’t see that happening. He is just too busy with work. I told him he needs another doctor in the surgery but I don’t think he has the time to do something about that.
Honestly, I am at my wits end with this. I am not getting any younger you know.”
When the tirade ceased, Jeanette’s first thought was….. too much information!
She was left with two choices. Back down and admit she had gone too far, or accept responsibility and try to sort out the situation as best she could. She quickly chose the second option.
“Oh, Christine……may I call you Christine? As a mother myself, I can understand your dilemma.
Here’s my perspective and a possible solution?
Your son is working too hard as you guessed. He is in need of some of the home comforts only a mother can supply. I am sure he does not want to impose on you, Christine, but I think he would really enjoy it if you could come to Oban for a week or so, and do some light housekeeping and prepare some meals for him.
