by Ruth Hay
Bread was in a bin with a rolled top, and butter sat beside it on a china saucer. Lucy was not surprised to find the butter was hard. In Canada it would have been quite soft if left outside the fridge, but here the air was so much cooler and no heating was apparent.
The toaster was coloured bright blue but at least it seemed to work the same way as others Lucy had used. By the time she had figured out how to boil water in the kettle, which sat on an electric stove ring, she was hungry enough to eat and drink anything.
“Well!” she said to the window overlooking a small green area at the back of the cottage.
“I have managed so far. I might as well go out and explore.”
She was wearing her hooded sweatsuit but thought it would be wise to run upstairs and fetch her outdoor coat. She took the chance to peek inside the two doors on the landing and found another small bedroom and the bathroom with the smallest bath she had ever seen. Lucy laughed out loud to think how she would have to scrunch herself up to sit in that bath. A vision came to her of the big, luxurious washroom at home in Canada with the separate shower and double sinks. She was beginning to understand that Canadian plumbing standards were not shared by other parts of the world.
Lucy opened the front door of the cottage and was immediately glad that she had turned around to lock the door again. A car had almost touched her as it raced past.
In shock from the close call, Lucy realized there was no sidewalk separating her from the road. The door to the cottage opened right onto the roadway with only the tiniest space between them delineated by a plant pot holding purple pansies.
“Lucky I didn’t knock the plant over!” she complained. “I had better watch my step around here.”
Fiona’s cottage was one of a row of cottages joined together. Observation soon proved to Lucy that the road was for one-way traffic only. By waiting for a space between cars, Lucy was able to sprint across the road and reach a paved pathway bordering an area of bushes and small trees. A cold wind was blowing through this barrier and she clutched the hood of her coat closer to her as she followed the path away from Fiona’s cottage.
In a few moments she came to the end of the barrier and was almost swept off her feet by the force of the wind. She caught her breath but it was not the cold air that had startled her.
She was looking out to sea and an amazing scene opened up in front of her.
The waves were pounding on a small sandy beach almost at her feet. Further out she could see a little boat rocking in the waves as it headed for land, and beyond the boat an island took up the middle distance. Clouds scurried across the sky but Lucy could glimpse a larger island farther away.
This was like nothing Lucy had ever seen before. Car trips to the Great Lakes near London, did not reveal scenes like this. Lakes were serene and controlled even in the winter when ice filled the shoreline. It was rare to see anything on the horizon and certainly not islands.
She felt she could have watched the little boat struggle against the wind and waves for hours but the cold was beginning to penetrate her clothing and rather than turn back to the cottage, Lucy decided to venture onto the beach and, hopefully, shelter from the worst of the wind.
This was accomplished by first walking carefully through a patch of tall, sharp-pointed grass. A large rock near the shoreline provided a handy place to lean against and, as she had suspected, the wind gusted by above her head.
“Well, this is different!” she said. “I didn’t expect to find myself on a beach in November!
The weather and the scenery are such a contrast to the villa in Italy. I’ll stay here and warm up a bit then look further along that road and see what I can find.”
Lucy watched seagulls following the boat and figured out it must have a catch of fish on board.
When the boat had gone from her view she took off a glove and dabbled in the sand with her fingers, soon uncovering tiny pink shells which she slipped into her coat pocket.
With her gaze on the sea again, she was startled to see a dark head pop up several metres away. She watched intently, hardly believing what she saw. It happened again and this time she could make out the gleam of eyes. Could this be a seal? Obviously the sea around Scotland was a lot different from anything Lucy had experienced before.
With her attention on the seals, Lucy failed to notice that waves had crept up towards her new leather boots. Just in time, she felt dampness in the sand and leaped up to find the tide was rising with each small wave.
“I will have a lot to ask Fiona about,” she concluded. “That’s if I ever meet up with her again!”
After dusting off the sand from the back of her coat, Lucy marched swiftly along the road and around a corner past a grove of trees, and found herself in the middle of a busy town.
She calculated that this must be Oban and set off to explore. There were small shops on both sides of the main street but this street also was for one-way traffic. It took some time to understand the system as cars were parked on both sides, facing in all directions.
“I think I’ll stick to this side for now,” she decided. “Crossing the road looks to be hazardous!”
She looked in store windows, finding nothing of great interest, but she nodded at people who passed her. Everyone smiled, so she got the impression the natives, at least, were friendly.
A delicious smell of bacon wafted towards her from a storefront where two tables indicated a restaurant serving breakfast. Lucy suddenly felt pangs of hunger. She really hadn’t had a decent meal for a whole day. Searching in her pockets she found a ten dollar bill. That should be enough for coffee and bacon and eggs, she decided. Her hand was on the door handle and she was just about to pull, when it struck her that they might not want dollars in Scotland. She stopped and considered what she could do.
Her mother was too far away to help. A bank would not want to exchange such a small amount of money, even if she found one nearby. The longer she spent by the door looking at the happy eaters inside, the stronger her hunger became. She was just about to stomp away in frustration when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“There you are! I was wondering where you got to. Good idea this. Let’s go inside.”
Before she could say a word, Fiona had opened the door, ushered Lucy inside and found a vacant table, all the while exchanging conversation with seated customers in a gibberish language that was completely unintelligible to her companion.
Lucy had not yet said one word to Fiona. She was quite intimidated by this forceful person who seemed so comfortable in a place where Lucy definitely did not fit in.
“So what have you been up to this morning?” began Fiona, removing her gloves and shrugging off her coat. The heat inside the restaurant began to overwhelm Lucy. She could feel her face flush red so she hurried to divest herself of a layer or two just as the coffee arrived in small cups but accompanied with a pair of metal jugs holding what Lucy hoped was second servings.
“I’ve been looking around some,” she replied, “but can I ask you what you were saying before? I couldn’t understand a word.”
“Ah, many people in this part of Scotland speak the Gaelic. It’s the old language of the country.”
“I see. And what does a ‘school run’ mean and how do you manage so many different jobs and did I really see a seal in the sea today and how often does the tide come in or out and how do I pay for food with only Canadian dollars?” It all came out in a rush and Lucy felt like a small child for blurting everything out at once.
Fiona just laughed and replied patiently, “I pick up and deliver children who live far from the primary school in town here. That takes an hour or so every morning and afternoon on week days. I also run a taxi service for adults who need help getting to shopping or doctor appointments and, with my partner, who shares the costs of the van, we do overnight deliveries to hotels and stores.”
“But you said you worked at the vet’s as well.” Lucy was confused trying to fit all this activity into one person�
�s 24 hours.
“Yes, that’s a part-time job once or twice a week. I am really a college student in Inverness most of the time but when there are holidays, or I am working on location assignments for my courses, I pick up my usual work here.”
Lucy could not believe Fiona’s busy lifestyle. “How do you manage all this and what are you studying to be?”
“It’s all a matter of planning. You can do a lot if you are organized and I learned it fast when my parents died and it was just Granny and me.”
Lucy was beginning to realize how lucky her privileged, easy life in Canada was, compared to this whirlwind of a woman who was not much older than Lucy herself.
“I am going to be a wildlife conservation officer when I qualify and, yes, you probably did see a seal. The sea is alive with them around these parts. As for the tides; they come in and out twice daily. There are tables published to tell you when to expect them in each season.”
Lucy was grateful she did not have to comment further on Fiona’s life as plates of steaming food had arrived at their table. Fiona must have ordered for Lucy, another example of her ‘take charge’ style, but she was not about to complain when the aroma of the food hit her nostrils.
The next five minutes were occupied with consuming bacon, eggs and sausages, tomato, mushrooms and fried bread. Lucy had never eaten so much for breakfast in her life but she cleared the plate and wiped her mouth reaching for more coffee.
“That was delicious, Fiona, but, as I said before, I have no Scottish money with me.”
“Oh, never fear! Anna gave me twenty pounds for you. I’ll pay for your meal from that. There should be plenty left for anything small you might want.”
“That was kind of Aunt Anna,” said Lucy, with relief.
“Kind does not begin to describe that lady’s character,” began Fiona, in a more serious tone of voice than Lucy had heard from her so far. “She has made an enormous difference in my life, I can tell you. I wouldn’t be taking this college course if she hadn’t coached me through my English exams and she has treated me like a daughter in every way. You are lucky to have an aunt like Anna, believe me!”
Lucy swallowed quickly and replied, “She’s not a real aunt. My mother’s friends have always been honorary aunts to me and my sister. It’s just a habit to call them that but I suppose I am too old now to continue.”
“I’d say you were lucky to have someone like Anna in your life in any capacity at all. She has done a lot for this community as well. She’s a remarkable lady!”
Lucy’s previous opinion of Anna was undergoing a re-think as Fiona spoke. Privately, she thought Fiona was going to get a surprise when she got to know Susan, the acknowledged leader of the Sambas, and also her own mother, Maria, who was a diva in the London, Ontario, fashion world.
Fiona put down her cup and spread orange marmalade on her third slice of toast as she asked, “So what do you do, Lucy? I hear you have had a fine holiday in Italy.”
Lucy felt she was put on the spot. She could not compare with Fiona’s busy life, but she had to say something. “Yes, we had a good time at the villa where my mother’s mother was born. Actually, I painted some pictures there for my grandmother in Toronto.”
“That’s interesting! I do wildlife photography myself. In fact a couple of my pictures are in here.”
Lucy turned to where Fiona pointed and saw the pictures of foxes and hawks with discreet cards fixed to the frames announcing the prices.
“I sell the odd one here,” continued Fiona, “but my best customer is the vet who hangs them on his surgery walls. Have you ever considered selling your work, Lucy?”
“Oh, I am still at college studying arts and design.” She thought this sounded lame so she rushed on. “I am into clothes design for teens at the moment and I am planning to display my ideas in a section of my mother’s store soon.”
Lucy was shocked to hear this declaration come out of her mouth. In truth, there was no such plan but she suddenly realized that it was something she really wanted and she determined in that moment to work hard to make it happen.
“Good for you!” commented Fiona. “You are never too young to get a foot in the door.”
She rose from her seat with a purposeful air, grabbed her padded car coat and delivered her next orders while simultaneously depositing cash onto the table and handing the remaining pound notes to Lucy.
“Can you amuse yourself for an hour or so? I’ll be back to take you to the hotel. We have place name cards for tables and drink orders to deliver to the kitchens.
Everyone will assemble at Anna’s this evening for dinner. You’ll meet Alan and Kirsty there.”
Before Lucy could ask where she would meet Fiona, that lady was out the door, waving to friends at other tables, and walking briskly away.
Chapter Seventeen
Mom whr r u? im stuck here iv climbd a hill & walkd all ovr obn
Nvr cn enythng lik ths b4.
U wd LOL 2 c Fionas hows SOOO tiny but shes very bizy & keepin me wrkng this aft. C u ltr?
Lu
Maria found this text message on her phone and struggled to decipher it. It seemed like Lucy was all right for now and Fiona was in charge. She confirmed this with Jeanette, who was more familiar with teen text speak.
Jeanette laughed at the message. “She couldn’t be in better hands, Maria! Fiona is a powerhouse and does more in one day than most young folks manage in a week.”
Maria was content with this. She would call her daughter soon. She turned back to the conversation she was having with Jeanette about style in fashion and furnishings.
The two women had become friends immediately on Maria’s arrival at George and Jeanette’s home the previous evening. Maria thought it was the Canadian connection that made the instant bond, but it could have been the way she warmed to Liam, their gorgeous little boy
who had his father’s curly fair hair and hazel eyes a shade lighter than his mother’s.
This morning’s conversation had moved on to the urgent topic of wedding apparel. Jeanette had been busy with Liam and design work she was doing for Bev and Alan’s home. Shopping for clothes had taken a back seat and now she was desperate.
Once Liam was down for his nap, Maria happily took charge and reviewed everything Jeanette had hanging in her wardrobe.
“I don’t need anything fancy here in Oban,” apologized Jeanette. “It’s all about washable stuff and the odd skirt and jacket for business. I had very little warning about this event and I can’t see what’s suitable in this lot.”
“I will be wearing a business suit myself, Jeanette,” offered Maria. “I would feel happier if you were in the same sort of outfit. Let’s see what we can do.”
Maria shuffled through the hangers in a professional manner and Jeanette just stood back and let the expert do her work. If Maria could salvage appropriate dress from this motley collection, she was prepared to applaud heartily.
“I see the problem,” Maria muttered. “There’s not much that matches but you do have some good quality items here.”
“Those would be my pre-pregnancy clothes from Canada,” Jeanette conceded ruefully. “I’m not too sure they all fit me nowadays.”
“Well, let’s see what the possibilities are!” asserted Maria in a confident manner.
Within five minutes she had selected a long navy jacket and a purple flared skirt and instructed Jeanette to try these on. Jeanette emerged from the bathroom with a disgruntled expression on her face. “I don’t think these go together, Maria, and the skirt won’t button properly at the waist.”
Maria looked her subject up and down with a practiced eye and declared that the jacket just needed a good belt, the skirt was a nice length and when a scarf had been added the colours would blend perfectly.
Jeanette still felt apprehensive. “I’m not sure about this and what do I do about the waistline?”
“Well, preferably we could get an alteration done, but there’s no time for that. I know an
old, temporary trick that will work if you have any elastic on hand.”
Jeanette nodded and found a length of white elastic in her sewing basket. Maria asked for needle and thread and quickly sewed a loop of elastic to circle the skirt’s button and attached it to the buttonhole, giving Jeanette two inches of extra room at the waist.
Once the outfit was assembled again, Maria picked a slim purple belt for the jacket and assured Jeanette she had the perfect scarf in her own luggage that would complement the colours and tie the outfit together.
Black court shoes and a short-sleeved top, long enough to conceal the waistband, completed the transformation.
“I never would have thought of this combination, Maria! You would think it would be obvious to me when arranging colours and patterns for furnishings is my business. It’s much harder when it’s yourself you are decorating.”
“It’s what I do all the time,” explained Maria, “but I doubt I could have assembled the antique furniture and fabrics you picked for Anna’s lounge. The effect is so comfortable and yet so stylish. Susan and Jake will love staying there.”
This comment redirected the conversation to the topic of the dinner party to be held at Anna’s farmhouse in the evening.
“It’s usually a formal occasion when a dinner is held the night before the wedding,” advised Jeanette, “but Anna assured me it would be very casual under the circumstances. It’s a chance for everyone to get together and congratulate the happy couple.”
“I will be delighted to do that. It is wonderful of Bev and Anna to arrange for us to be here for such a special event. Susan and I are so happy for Bev and anxious to meet Alan for the first time.”
“Oh, you’ll love Alan! He’s the very best kind of Scotsman, tall and rugged and single-focused. At the moment his focus is on Bev and she’s in seventh heaven.”
