by Ruth Hay
She realized this move should not be rushed. Providing extra space for Christine to move into might not be advisable. First in the priority list was Edmund’s need for help at the practice. Then came a new home for them, and last in line, but becoming more pressing, was the question of what Ashley Stanton would do while living full-time in Oban as the wife of a busy doctor.
Christine Jansen was well aware her time was being ‘managed’ by others. It was a conspiracy to keep her away from her son as much as possible. Since Ashley’s unexpected arrival on the scene, cozy talks with Edmund were restricted to meals in the cramped cottage kitchen on Sunday nights and the occasional quick lunch with him in the town between appointments.
It was not what she hoped for when she came to Oban with high ambitions to prove herself invaluable to her hardworking boy, but there were compensations.
She had struggled at first with the change in her situation. There were a few cutting remarks made to Ashley, which she now regretted. There were times when she wanted to make outright demands but, gradually, she began to understand the value in this tight-knit, fully supportive community surrounding Edmund and Ashley.
Bev Matthews had asked her to help out with preparations in her former milking parlour for the summer program of farm teas. Her advice was requested about a new paint colour and whether the seat cushions should be replaced. She assisted Bev in counting the china and cutlery for the tearoom to ensure breakages had not seriously reduced supplies.
She had to admit it was pleasant to be out in the countryside with hills and fields around her.
Alan Matthews was a farmer with a small flock of sheep and rarely appeared during her time there.
Bev said it was his busiest season watching out for new lambs and maintaining supplementary feeding.
Once she was invited to hold and bottle-feed a newborn lamb whose dam had produced twins and who was neglecting the smaller of the pair. That was a lovely feeling of being useful and content inside the open shelter while Alan went back to the hills with his sheepdog in attendance.
Jeanette McLennan had taken her out in her van to see a client whose home was being refurbished after some water damage. Christine wandered in the large garden while the consultations were held inside, but the part she enjoyed the most about the day was listening to Jeanette’s chatter on the way there and back. She also admired the differences in this west coast scenery which was less dramatic than the east coast perhaps, but had a constantly changing panorama of sea and islands and lochs set against mountains inland.
Most telling among these connections, and distractions, was the time she spent with Jeanette’s mother.
Jean was a charming older woman whose life had been, until recently, centred on Vancouver on Canada’s west coast. She had much insight into what it was like to uproot herself and fly across the ocean to live with her daughter.
“I finally understood that if my grandchildren were ever to know me, I needed to make the move and become a part of their lives. I am always at home for the children when they arrive from school, leaving Jeanette and George free to pursue their work. Naturally, I relish that special time with Liam and Annette and I feel useful, which is so important and keeps me active and involved.
It’s so easy to give things up when you live alone, Christine. A day comes when you cannot retrieve those activities that once were vital to your happiness. With age comes loss of different kinds. We both lost husbands too soon. Loss is inevitable but I believe we should resist its effects as long as humanly possible.”
They were seated together in a café on the High Street with the remains of a light lunch spread before them. The young waitress, who greeted Jean with a welcoming smile, kept refilling their tea cups and did not seem concerned that they were occupying the best table set in the bay window of the café.
Jean had made the decision not to drive in Scotland so outings with her usually centred on walking around the town with the occasional bus trip to outlying attractions.
Christine found Jean had a soothing effect on her, as well as encouraging her to keep fit.
Jean was, undoubtedly, a wise woman. It had not escaped Christine’s notice that Jean was imparting her wisdom to her companion with intent to teach. It was implied, in this particular conversation, that Christine could be essential to her son, if, and when, he and Ashley had children. It was simply a matter of waiting and of cultivating a good relationship with the couple.
* * *
Christine spent most evenings in the hotel, where a series of commercial travellers came and went and relatives of Oban residents stayed while visiting family. She struck up conversations with many of these itinerants during a meal in the restaurant or while relaxing in the comfortable bar with its stunning view out to sea.
There were also times when she sat in her room and contemplated her life and her future. The messages conveyed to her by Jean, particularly, but also, by the more casual encounters, were along the lines that she was very fortunate to have a son nearby with a wedding to look forward to, and many friends here in Oban who were attending to her comfort.
The messages began to sink in.
By the time she met Fiona Campbell and was conveyed to Glenmorie Castle, it was a far more amenable Christine Jansen who enjoyed the drive with her future daughter-in-law and made complimentary comments about the countryside.
When she saw Glenmorie Castle rising up behind the avenue of trees, she was temporarily stunned. Her first thought was that this visit would truly impress her bridge companions at home, then she succumbed to Fiona’s welcome and listened while the two women caught up with events in each other’s lives.
“So the two books about Anna and Lawren are finally off your hands, Ashley?”
“Yes, thank goodness! It was a struggle at the end, but I am free to concentrate on Edmund and so glad to be back here again. Would it be too much to ask if we could see the Eco house, Fiona? I have heard so much about it. I saw your advertising posters for a summer gathering in Glenmorie. I would love to help out if at all possible.”
“Oh my, Ashley! I would love to enlist your help! It’s such a big undertaking. We’ll discuss the details later but it would be a good opportunity for you to publicize your books. After all Anna’s story was written in Oban.
Fiona turned her attention to Christine, with a winning smile.
Do you two mind walking to the new house? I can promise tea and scones. Donald has Neil in the estate office. We’ll collect him on the way.”
Neil was on his charming best behaviour and inveigled Christine into a game of toy-stacking on the patio in the sunshine, after the house tour. Fiona passed on the latest news about Anna and Alina while she and Ashley washed up the tea dishes.
“So how is it going with Christine? Jeanette tells me Jean has worked magic on her attitude.”
“I could not have managed without Jean, I can tell you. I think the atmosphere of Oban and its people is wearing Edmund’s mother down at last. She was a piece of work when she first arrived; all bristling feathers, demands and complaints, but she’s much milder now although I don’t know when she intends to return to the east coast.”
“I take it you are leaving that problematic question to Edmund?”
“Exactly!”
They chuckled together as they dried their hands. Fiona looked out of the window and saw how well Christine was playing with Neil. She pointed it out to Ashley and noted that when there were grandchildren to occupy Christine everything would change for the better.
“Possibly! But for now I am counting on Anna to work her magic on Christine. I can’t wait to see her again.”
“Me neither! She hasn’t seen Neil for so many months. She won’t recognize him. So much has happened around here since her last visit. There’s the Viking video of the discoveries the children made and the excavations starting soon. There’s the Summer Festival here at the castle, and in the autumn Fergus goes to the Arts School as a weekly boarder.”
; “Goodness, Fiona! You do have a busy life! Anna’s not the only one who needs to catch up with you and Gordon. I feel useless when faced with all that good stuff.”
“Oh, don’t you worry! We’ll soon fold you into Oban life, but you should also be thinking of your writing career. You can’t just drop that altogether. You should utilize the momentum you have earned. ”
Ashley had the writing matter in the back of her mind constantly. She did not respond to Fiona, but a germ of an idea began to grow as she thought of the fascinating life of the woman in front of her.
Anna Mason Drake had shared some of Fiona’s early life. Together with what she had just learned about her current family life here, and at the castle, and their plans for the future, it seemed as if Fiona Campbell, Lady of Glenmorie Castle would make a tremendous subject for a new biography.
Something along the lines of ‘From Cottage to Castle’, she thought.
Chapter Eighteen
The news about the imminent arrival of Anna and Alina came at the very point when James and Caroline were beginning to discuss their future.
“Well, that settles it then.”
“Settles what?”
Caroline was finishing her second cup of coffee perched on the window seat with Sylvia by her side on her special cushion. The view from the front of Anna’s house was endlessly entertaining. The cloudscape changed moment by moment as the winds drove the weather over the coastal mountains from the Atlantic. Flowers sprang up, day by day, and wafted in the breeze. The vista over fields and forested valleys stretched to the horizon. James insisted there were old farmhouses in view but these lay low to the ground and Caroline preferred to ignore them. She loved the long vista and thought of it as a constantly-changing, vast picture on a huge glass screen. The contrast between this and the streetscape outside their tiny apartment in central London was too awful to contemplate.
“We have to move out. What happens next, Caroline? Decisions must be made soon.”
She turned and gazed up at James. He really was an exceptional man. She could not imagine another as capable, considerate and patient as he had been during their years in limbo.
She noticed the newspaper on the kitchen table in front of him and remembered the latest Brexit debates. This proposed departure from the European Union could stretch out for uncounted years, if it happened at all. She had insider knowledge of a possible breakthrough in negotiations between the European Union and Great Britain but nothing was certain in the world of international politics.
Her heart sank at the prospect of more endless debates and arguments, and delays and broken promises, and the heartbreak of all those poor souls caught up in the no-mans-land of homelessness.
Could she even tolerate knowing another elaborate four-course meal was taking place at political high levels in Brussels, to no effect, while immigrant families fleeing war and persecution huddled in ditches begging for scraps of food?
Giving up her dream of making a difference in those lives was not going to be easy.
James would never ask her to. He respected her too much.
It was up to her to make the break for both of them.
It was time.
As soon as he heard the decisive tone of her voice, James held his breath. Had this place finally slipped through the cordon of concern around her caring heart?
“James, I have had the leisure to really think about the future for the first time in years and I thank you for the chance to do it in these peaceful surroundings.
I concede.”
She stopped to take a deep breath and he felt his heart resume its beating.
At last!
“You have been incredibly patient. I want you to decide what our future will be; where we will live and what we will do together. I have had enough of trying to re-make the world. It’s time for us to make our own lives a priority.”
He crossed the floor in two strides and picked her up bodily in his arms, swinging her around the kitchen in imminent danger of crashing into chairs or table but incandescent with a joy and hope he had been holding onto for decades, it seemed. Of course, he would refuse to make all these decisions on his own but the fact that Caroline had conceded was monumental.
This was the beginning of everything.
The choices rushed through his mind and his voice took over. It was too soon, but he could not wait a moment longer.
He let her feet touch the floor again and pulled up a chair for her.
The torrent of his questions made her aware of just how selfish she had been while insisting on her own way of living caught between two worlds.
She took his face between her hands and looked into his eyes.
“Stop, James! I won’t change my mind. We still have time to decide it all. I think we need to talk to your beloved Anna before we go any further.”
He immediately saw the sense of that and calmed down. Anna and Alina were key to his work plans. He trusted no one more than the two A Plus women and his mother, to steer him through the big decisions ahead of them.
Would they leave Britain and live in America with Eric and his family?
What kind of work would Caroline want to do, and where?
He could hardly wait to know the answers, but she was right. Anna was arriving soon and Philip would be coming to see for himself the great news about his wife’s eyesight.
“Right you are, my darling, beautiful, amazing woman! Just one simple decision for now?
How long will it take us to pack up and leave everything here ready for Anna?”
Anna and Alina descended from the train at the dockside in Oban and stood stock still on the platform looking around them and breathing the salt-scented air of the sea. Passengers rushed by them on both sides but they stood still together, hand in hand like an island.
Anna was thinking of the first time she stood here waiting for George McLennan to meet her and change her life.
Alina was remembering all the times in their childhood when she and Anna had clutched each other for strength and support.
Both women knew this was another of those new beginnings and possibly the last and most important of them all.
Both women were at a point of decision. They were comfortable in each of their two homes on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean, on two continents, but for how long could this ideal existence last?
Where to go from here?
They had arrived from the hustle and bustle of an enormous capital city, via Glasgow, to this timeless town by the sea and they could at last relax and recover from all the stress of the last months with the love and best wishes of Zoe and Wesley still ringing in their ears.
* * *
The crowd of passengers diminishing and Fiona could finally see her objective.
Anna and Alina were standing together. As stranger might have thought they were sisters, despite their differences in height and stature. Fiona knew the beautiful three-quarter-length wool coats they wore were from the A Plus collection which added to their resemblance. Alina’s version was a mix of subtle colours with a raised collar. Anna’s had a belted waistline, turned-back cuffs and was a glorious shade of pale green that complimented Anna’s colouring. Fiona thought, not for the first time, that these two elegant older women were a credit to their gender. She hoped to one day acquire such effortless style and confidence.
She rushed headlong over the distance between them and crushed the two women into her arms.
“Thank God! You are here, safe! I was imagining all kinds of delays and drama.
Cameron is here to take your luggage and I have had to restrain a whole army of people from greeting you both. I can’t keep them away for too long but today you are on your own.
Let’s get you home!”
Fiona’s last words undid Anna. The tears of relief rolled down her cheeks unchecked.
Each time she left Oban behind her she had to admit it might be for the last time.
So, therefore, each time she returned it was wit
h the greatest joy and relief.
One more precious time, made all the more precious because there was no telling if it might be the last one.
She linked arms with Alina in the way they were now accustomed to doing whenever they were outside.
Anna waited for her friend, her BFF as today’s generations said, to advise her there was no longer the necessity to walk so closely. It would be a great step forward in Alina’s independence, but Anna knew she would always be watching out for the hazards that might threaten a fall, or other disaster.
With Fiona in the lead, and Cameron coming along behind with their luggage, they made their way to the parking area. Their slow progress was not because of watching their steps but rather because they were both drinking in the small town by the sea where changes occurred beneath the surface without destroying the atmosphere and look of the compact, charming seaside place it had always been.
Alina raised her head to look at the heights above her where she was able to see the outline of McCaig’s Folly, standing tall like a Roman ruin far from its home. It was another sign that her eyesight was improving and she, too, let the tears fall unchecked. Other than the sight of her beloved Philip’s face, there was little more she desired to look upon. Anna’s house and Anna’s Oban friends were now, and always would be, carved into her memory for all time.
Fiona turned to see what was causing the delay and was heartstruck by the sight of two women she loved, leaning on each other and weeping tears of joy.
She suddenly realized that Anna Mason Drake, her mentor, sponsor, and dearest friend, was becoming old. It was a new and disturbing thought. She always considered Anna to be one of the ageless ones who moved along from each of life’s stages in a smooth progression unhampered by the ills of others of her era.
