Scottlander

by Samantha Liddell

  Scott laughed and said, “That, you’re not. Here, you keep my coat, I think you will need it more than I will.”

  I didn’t want him to think that I was a pathetic, and unprepared, needy person, so I assured him, “No, thank you, that’s not necessary. I have warm clothes in my suitcase, I will just need to find a place to change into them before entering the outside world of Scotland.” Oh my God! It just occurred to me, I’m actually in Scotland! Just through those doors was the country that I had been dreaming of, the country that was going to solve all my problems. First things first though, I need to change my clothes before I die of cold, and never get to my destination. ‘That would be just my luck,’ I thought. This would not be the last chapter of the book, would it? The main character killed off before her journey had even begun. Well, luckily I’m the writer of my own destiny, the writer of my own life, and I say, ‘No, Letticia Little will indeed go on, she will not be stopped dead in her tracks over being a tad cold, or more like bloody freezing, on the verge of hypothermia.’

  On that thought, I left Sophie in charge of my children for the very first time, and went to the bathroom to get changed. Sophie, left in charge of my kids for only a few minutes, after meeting us only five minutes ago, what could go wrong? I did notice that she had called Polly, Molly, before, but that was just a small technicality; what could go wrong in just a few minutes of my absence?

  I returned from the bathroom to chaos, but I was now warm, at least. Sophie was yelling out for ‘Molly.’

  “Molly, Molly! Where are you?” she called while holding on to Leah’s hand tightly. Leah looked up at me as if to say, ‘Nice work Mummy, who hired the help? Not much help here.’ She then rolled her eyes, and pointed in the opposite direction to where Sophie was looking. She was pointing to where Molly, I mean Polly, was.

  I could see her talking to an old man, a gentle looking man with a big, round belly, a belly that looked like he had a good wife who enjoyed baking treats for him. He had grey hair that stuck out from under his tartan beret, and a long white beard. He was holding a sign that said, WELCOME HOME, MY LOVE. I tapped Sophie’s arm, and pointed to where Polly was. She went to go over and get her, but I put my arm across in front of her as a guard. “No, you wait here with Leah, and please don’t lose her,” I said with half a grin and my eyebrows up.

  I made my way over to Polly. I gently took her hand and said, “Polly, please don’t run off from Sophie like that ever again, we were all so worried when we didn’t know where you were.”

  “Aye,” said the man. “I asked her if she was lost and she said no. She asked me if I was Santa,” and he laughed a big, jolly laugh. “I told her ah, no, Santa is a magic man; I’m just a man in love with my wife, who is returning home to me after visiting our grandchildren for two weeks.”

  I said, “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. We’d best be off now, come along Polly.”

  Polly gave the man a big hug, he was a bit taken aback, but then he too, put his arms around Polly.

  “Very nice to meet you Miss Polly, now off you go with your ma.” I said thank you to the kind old man, and we headed back to Sophie and Leah. ‘Hopefully she still has Leah,’ I thought.

  Chapter Five

  Scotland, Here We Are!

  We finally emerged from Edinburgh airport after a few rather eventful experiences. I looked at my watch, it was still on Australian time: 2am I read. I asked Sophie what the time was.

  “It’s 5pm,” she told me.

  ‘Oh wow, it’s going to take a few days to get over this jetlag,’ I thought.

  I changed the time on my watch, and then thought, ‘Well, here I am, finally on Scottish time. I wonder what’s going to happen here, only time will tell I guess.’

  We found a cab that was available, and loaded it up with all our bags, Sophie had two big suitcases as well. She had caught a flight from London in time to meet us at Edinburgh. She had arrived an hour before us, so had waited at a table listening to music through her headphones, and detaching herself from the world that was going by. She was taking this break-up bad, I needed her to snap out of it though if she was to continue being our nanny. How to do this though, how to help and support a 22-year-old who is heartbroken, a girl who is in a state of denial and sadness. I continued to wonder, then reminded myself to focus, we needed to get to our Airbnb first.

  I had booked the Airbnb for the first two weeks of our stay in Scotland, after that I would decide what to do.

  I told the driver to take us to the Old Bark Cottage Airbnb, along

  Queen Street. While researching the Airbnb, I’d read that Old Bark Cottage has lovely views of the Queen Street Gardens to the North, and Edinburgh Castle to the South.

  ‘That just sounds out of this world,’ I had thought. ‘Views of a castle!’

  I needed no more convincing, I had booked and paid right then and there, from the comfort of my sitting room in Australia. I also chose this Airbnb because it was close to the city centre and Princes Street. Princes Street sounded amazing, it is one of Edinburgh’s major thoroughfares, and the main shopping street. It has virtually no buildings on the South side, so gives panoramic views of the Old Town, Edinburgh Castle, and the valley between, and we would be able to just walk there from our accommodation!

  The drive in the cab was just eight miles, and my kids were wide awake. I suspected it was going to be a long night.

  As we pulled up at Old Bark Cottage, I could see that it was going to be a lovely, cosy place to stay for the next two weeks, it greeted us with a magical sense of love and happiness. It crouched low into the grassy embankment, with long green vines draping over most of the cottage, as though it were trying to hide away from the world.

  We approached the front door, from which a warm, dim light shone, as if it was guiding us inside. A little bell in the doorway rung to alert the owner that there were guests checking in, and the warmth of an open fire hit us as soon as we put one foot inside. The glow from the fire made the room look and feel safe and cosy, compared to the harsh elements of the outside world.

  Sophie and the girls followed in after me. Sophie had started to make an effort with the girls, and in the cab on the way here had asked them how their flight was and what did they think they might like to explore tomorrow. Maybe she will be okay after all, it might just take a while for her to warm up to us. I was sure in no time she would forget about the boy back in England who had broken her young heart forever, well, forever in a 22-year-old’s mind, that is.

  We waited at the front counter to be checked in, and after a minute or two, an older lady – dressed in a floral skirt that just touched the top of her ankles, pink slippers and cardigan, and with her hair tied back in a neat bun – approached us through a curtain that covered the doorway. ‘That must be her living quarters back there,’ I thought.

  “And you must be the Littles,” she said.

  “Yes, that is us,” I replied.

  “Travelling on your own, are you? With three kids! Oh, you are a very brave lassie.”

  ‘Three?’ I looked confused, then realised she must have thought

  Sophie was one of my kids too. ‘How is that even possible? And, more to the point, do I really look old enough to have a 22-year-old child? Wow, it must be true, my looks are declining. Oh, Jamie, I need to find you soon,’ I thought in a panic.

  “Ohhhh no, Mrs. Wilson, she isn’t my child,” I explained, pointing to Sophie, “I’m much too young to have a 22-year-old daughter.” I gave her a little giggle. “She’s my nanny.”

  “Oh, I do apologise Mrs. Little, I just thought….”

  I cut her off, and said, “No need for apologies, I think we are all just in need of a nice hot shower, a hot meal, and a good nights’ sleep. We have lots of exploring to do tomorrow.”

  “Very well then, this way, I will show you to your accommodation.”

  We followed her down some stairs, each one making a creaking sound as we stepped down, showing the age of the magn
ificent cottage. ‘It must have some great history to it,’ I thought, ‘I will ask her another day though, when I’m not so jetlagged, and able to focus better.’

  We arrived at our rooms that were below the main house. We had the run of the whole downstairs, which was decked out with three bedrooms, a kitchenette, a bathroom and living room, as well as a little courtyard that housed pot plants with colourful flowers, and a little round, white, four-seater table. We also had our own entrance, so we could come and go as we pleased, rather than having to go up the stairs and use Mrs. Wilson’s front door. Our door opened to a path that lead back up to the street.

  Mrs. Wilson had lit the fire for our arrival, and left out a box of shortbread, a box of Scottish Blend tea-bags, and some milk in the fridge. ‘That will do nicely,’ I thought. Although I needed to feed the girls a good, hearty dinner that didn’t come in a tray covered in foil. They hadn’t touched much of the airplane food; they must be starving.

  I asked Mrs. Wilson if the kitchen was still open.

  “Aye,” she said. “I would be happy to cook you something. Any requests?”

  The girls yelled out, “Pasta please!” at the same time.

  “Ohhhh, pasta! I can do pasta,” she said with a squeeze of their cheeks and went back upstairs to start dinner. As she left I could hear each stair creak again. It was a nice sound, and added to the old and cosy atmosphere of the place.

  We all sat down for our first meal together as a family of four. The girls demolished their cheesy pesto pasta, as did Sophie and I. Sophie even managed her first smile after she had finished. “Mmmmm, that was delicious,” she announced. The girls agreed, nodding their heads and rubbing their tummies.

  “I want more,” Leah said.

  “Sorry girls, we only have shortbread for dessert.”

  I planned to head off to the supermarket first thing in the morning to pick up supplies.

  After dinner, we retired to bed, and to my surprise, it only took about an hour for all of us to fall asleep. Let’s just hope we all stay asleep for the whole night. If jetlag has anything to say about it, I’m sure we will be up again in a few hours.

  I woke at 3am in the morning, everybody else was still fast asleep though. Not me, I was wide awake. I decided to look up Outlander tours and found one that would be perfect. The description said, ‘Enjoy a fully-guided tour of beautiful film locations in Edinburgh, from the great TV series Outlander. Locations include: Castle Leoch, Captain Jack Randall’s stronghold, and Lallybroch.’ I didn’t need a glass of wine in hand to press confirm for this one, I confirmed it right then and there, for tomorrow.

  ‘Today,’ I thought, ‘would be a day of settling in, getting used to our surroundings, and getting to know Sophie a bit better, and for Sophie to get to know us also.’ After all, we are going to be a family for the next seven months-yes, seven months, that’s right. I’m out to prove a point remember.

  After breakfast, we all got dressed and rugged up for our first trip into Edinburgh City Centre. It was the end of January, and a low three degrees out. We decided to find a supermarket, and buy some food so we could stock up the cupboards in our little kitchenette and save some money, rather than getting Mrs. Wilson to cook us meals every day. I was on a budget, no money coming in for the next seven months – only money going out. Plus, I was having to feed Sophie, as well as pay her wage and accommodation, which was part of the nanny contract that we had agreed on. She would be paid £150.00 a week, not a bad deal I thought. Her first full day of work would be tomorrow.

  I told her that I was booked on an Outlander tour that leaves first thing in the morning, and won’t be back till late. I asked her if she was okay with that, and did she think she could handle it.

  “Yes, of course,” she answered. “How hard can it be looking after two children?”

  I was about to say, ‘Well, you have already lost one on your clock,’ but decided against it, I didn’t want to crush the self-esteem that she had slowly been regaining. Instead, I asked her if she had seen Outlander.

  ‘No, I haven’t,” she replied.

  “Yes!” I yelled out, “An Outlander newbie. Well, we will see if we can find the DVD set while we are out today. We can watch it together at night. You will love it, trust me.”

  It wasn’t just the fact that I wanted an excuse to re-watch the series again, I thought it would be a good bonding time for us both as well. She was still a bit shy and awkward around us, plus it might also help with her breakup and help her move on when she sees how hot Scottish guys are.

  Mission accomplished: our cupboards are full, and the boxed set of Outlander DVDs are sitting on the coffee table next to the fire. Once the girls go down to sleep tonight, we had decided, we would watch the first episode of series one.

  “Only one,” I said. “I have to get up early tomorrow and you have to work tomorrow.”

  “Oh, aye,” she said, and we laughed.

  “Look at that, you are starting to fit in already!”

  The first full day of being in Scotland was unbelievable, I still couldn’t believe I was here. I also still felt a tad jetlagged, either that or I will blame it on the second episode that Sophie had made me watch last night. It wasn’t hard to twist my arm though, she only had to ask me once if I was keen for one more. How can anyone say no to such an amazing series anyway? A true fan couldn’t.

  Thinking about a true fan, made me think of Scott, and the Outlander fan conversation we had had on the plane. It made me giggle rather loud, loud enough to get Sophie’s attention anyway.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Oh, nothing, just remembering a funny conversation I had with a friend.”

  I realised I had not thought about Scott since seeing him walk out of the airport. He did make quite the exit that day, an image I won’t forget any time soon. Come to think of it, I have not even thought about Paul either, gee, my Frank and Jamie need to step up and occupy my mind a bit more if they want to keep their roles. They are meant to be two of the main characters. Then, at that very moment, I realised that I had just cast Scott as my Jamie. How could that be? Auditions had not yet finished. I had only been in Scotland for one day, plenty more people are yet to try out for the part, I was sure of it. Plus, Scott was no Jamie, even if he has speckles of red in his hair.

  On that note, I decided to focus, and concentrate on getting to my tour on time this morning. It was going to be one amazing day today. These sorts of days don’t come around too often.

  The girls, Sophie and I all sat down for an early breakfast. It was a cold morning, so it was lucky that somehow, we had kept the fire going throughout the night. It had been a joint effort between Sophie and I. We are starting to work as a team. I’m pretty sure we have Outlander to thank for that, we really bonded over the first two episodes, and truth be told, we are both looking forward to tonight for episodes three and four.

  Over breakfast, I asked the girls what they wanted to do today with Sophie.

  “We want to go to the park and have ice cream,” they announced. I had to explain to them how we are not in Australia anymore, how we are in Scotland and in the middle of winter. Sophie helped to convince the kids also by saying, “You might have to think of an inside activity.” And then added, “Well, girls. I have been doing some research, as any good nanny should. I am a nanny, after all.” ‘Wow, the first joke she has cracked, she really is warming up to us.’ I thought, as she continued.

  “And I have found a great indoor free form play centre, called Time Twisters, it is an Egyptian themed attraction where kids can play for the whole day. What do you think kids? Sophie asked.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Polly called.

  “Yeah, okay,” Leah half-heartedly responded. “I did want to get an ice cream though,” she added.

  “Well, I’m sure Egyptians eat ice cream too. I’m sure you can get one there,” I said.

  I left for the best tour of my life not too long after breakfast, and left the kids at h
ome with Sophie to get ready. Everything was in walking distance, so we had planned to just meet back home that evening. The tour was all day, so I was planning on returning home around dinner time. Sophie assured me everything would be fine as she slowly pushed me out of the front door. Even though she was cheering up a bit, she was obviously still in the mourning stage of her breakup, as she was still dressed from head to toe in black. I had not seen her wear one single colour since we had met her at the airport. ‘Oh well, each to their own,’ I thought.

  Time to get to the meeting point to catch the bus. Right, I need to get to 17 Waverly Bridge in thirty minutes. Right, I can do that. I got out my map and I was off. I walked at a fast pace, as I was not only excited, but also trying to keep warm – even with four layers on, and every bit of my skin covered, apart from my eyes. The sun was only just starting to rise as I walked along the streets of Edinburgh.

  I was almost there. I had butterflies in my tummy, I was so nervous for some reason. I had such high expectations towards this tour, I wanted it to meet them so badly.

  As I approached the bus, I realised that yet again, I was the last to board and that they had been waiting for me. It was starting to become a familiar situation – of being greeted with frustrated eyes that glared up at me – whenever I took public transport. There was only one seat left, on a mini bus that held twenty-two passengers. A quick scan of the bus showed that all the seats were taken up by women, bar two men that were sitting next to what looked like their wives, who had obviously dragged them along for the day.

  The empty seat that was mine was next to a middle-aged lady, she looked to be around forty-five years old. ‘Jesus H. Christ! What did

  I mean by middle-aged? That would be me in as little as eight years.’ That thought got interrupted, thank goodness, by the middle-aged lady herself. She put out her hand to shake mine, “Hi there, I’m Amanda from New York,” she said in a strong American accent.

  “Hi, I’m Letticia from Australia,” I replied.