by Ruth Hay
He seems somewhat nervous, however. I hope I am not requiring too much of him or being intimidating in any way. I have been accused of that crime in the past.
Before she could pursue that line of thought any further, George called out,
“There it is now!”
Surprise was her first emotion. The house was built of stone, with a second storey, unlike many of the single-storey countryside homes she had seen from the train or on this short trip out of Oban.
It had a steeply-pitched roof with a chimney on each end and two windows set into the roof. Most likely to be bedroom windows, she surmised.
There was a sort of tower projecting forward right in the middle of the house, dividing it into two equal parts and the main door could be seen on the side of this tower as they approached the gate in the fence.
“Oh, George, I didn’t expect it to be so large. I haven’t seen another house like this in the area.”
“Yes, I suppose it is quite substantial. The house belonged to a large estate. This was the home of the estate manager and his family for a number of years until it was sold to Miss Dunlop.”
“Can we take a quick look inside?”
“Certainly, I have the key in the glove box.”
A large iron key was produced and Anna led the way up a gravel path to the door where George deftly inserted the key and turned the lock. The door swung open.
“After you, Ms. Mason.”
Anna stepped into a square porch inside the tower-like structure she had seen. Light came from a window on her right and there were two doors leading into the house itself.
“On your left is the sitting room and the kitchen is to your right.”
George’s voice startled her. She would have been happy to stand for a few moments absorbing the feeling of entering this house for the first time, but his voice indicated that a brief tour was required.
She chose the kitchen and had to stand aside while George dealt with the unfamiliar metal hardware that opened the heavy door.
A set of three wooden stairs rose out of this room, turning at a sharp right angle to disappear upwards. The kitchen was square with a huge fireplace opposite the stairs, monopolizing the end wall. A window faced the front yard and another window, above a deep sink, looked out onto the back of the property.
The centre of the kitchen was occupied by a wooden table. An open shelf unit, near the sink, held dishes and cookware.
George had already climbed the stairs by the time Anna absorbed these few details and she heard his voice inviting her to follow him.
The upper staircase was enclosed and led to a short hallway from which two doors opened into other rooms.
George poked his head out of the left door and told her to “mind her head.” This strange request became clear when Anna entered the bedroom to find the slope of the roof above, meant limited head room except in the centre of the room where a double bed was placed.
A small fireplace with a velvet chair by its side was near the foot of the bed.
“This is a dormer window,” said George, moving into an oddly shaped little area that seemed to project forwards to the front of the house. It allowed Anna to stand almost upright but it contained only a tiny bench and the window.
“There are also two vellux-style windows,” said George, but when he saw the blank expression on her face, he added, pointing upwards, “that’s a roof window at the back. The house has plenty of light unlike most cottages around here.”
Anna was conscious of the fact that there was only one more door in this upper level and she was fervently hoping that it would lead to a washroom of some description.
George crossed the hallway and announced, “This is the bathroom. As you can see there is a bath and sink and a lavatory but I am sure a shower could be added.”
Anna had little time to take in the appearance of the antique Victorian plumbing before George added, “I realize this may not be what you were expecting Anna. A lot could be done with additional furnishings. It is sparsely furnished at the moment.”
Turning to the wall behind the bath, he opened a door and Anna could see another, smaller bedroom with a single bed, and a similar fireplace positioned on the end wall.
George clicked a switch near the door and a dim light sprang into life from a bare bulb above the bed.
Thank God, there’s electricity, thought Anna, I was beginning to think I had been transported into the nineteenth century.
“I won’t ask you what you think at this point, Ms. Mason,” said George. “I can see this is a lot to take in. If you don’t mind, I would like to get back on the road before dark. We can return tomorrow, if you wish.”
Nodding her head in agreement, because she did not trust herself to speak, Anna led the way back down the central stairs and took a quick look into the room George had described as ‘sitting room’. This was the largest room in the house and equipped with a sofa and chairs, tables, lamps and other amenities. Two large windows showed that this room, like the main bedroom above, took up the depth of the house.
On the way back to the car, Anna turned around for another look and realised she had not seen the room above the porch entrance. In fact, she had not had time to absorb anything other than the most basic layout of the house, and, no doubt, she had missed much of what George had been adding as commentary in the brief guided tour.
She found herself unable to summon a conclusion and decided to say nothing.
George sensed her reluctance to talk and gave his attention to driving back to Oban.
She was most likely tired from the journey, he told himself. She needs time to think.
* * *
They reached the hotel in semi- darkness. Anna had fallen asleep on the way there, and was feeling dazed when George gently shook her shoulder to waken her.
“I am sorry to disturb you, Ms. Mason, but there are some things that need to be attended to before I can let you go tonight.”
Anna blinked, cleared her throat, and turned to face him, surprised at his serious manner.
“First,” he began, “I have made an appointment for you at my office for tomorrow afternoon.” He handed Anna a business card with the time written on the back.
“I am certain you will have questions and concerns about this situation,” he continued,
“ I am sure this letter will answer some of those questions and, possibly, create more.”
George’s soft voice trembled nervously as he spoke. He withdrew a thick envelope from the inside pocket of his overcoat.
Anna received the envelope, still warm from his body heat, and saw that it was addressed to her, handwritten, but with no other information other than her name.
Before she could ask anything, George got out of the car and opened her door, saying,
“I can tell you nothing about the contents. It was given to me when Helen Dunlop made her will, with the instructions that it should be delivered into your hand if, and when, you ever arrived in Scotland and you saw the McCaig Farm House for yourself.”
Chapter Thirteen
Anna staggered up the carpeted stairs to her room on the second floor of the Columba Hotel and threw herself down on the bed in a state of exhaustion comprised of equal parts, fatigue, confusion, hunger and shock.
She simply did not know what to do first, but decided that food would be a necessity if she was ever to survive this day of surprises. Unable to face the thought of a meal in the hotel dining room she called reception and begged to have food delivered to her. Fortunately, the kitchen staff were agreeable to this break from tradition. No doubt they had been informed that she had travelled from Canada recently.
Waiting for the food, Anna unzipped her boots, massaged her aching feet, removed her outer clothes and wrapped a long robe around her which was retrieved from an outside pocket of her case, (Maria’s advice again!). At this thought, she rummaged in her purse and found the cell phone which George had activated for her on the way to the farm house.
“Alina, it’s me. I am so sorry for calling you this late.”
“Thank God! We have been frantic with worry. Susan’s here with me. We were just talking about you. What’s been happening?”
“Alina, I don’t know where to begin. Truly, I am feeling overwhelmed right now.”
“Where are you, Anna?”
“I am in a hotel in Oban and I have just returned from visiting the farm house.”
“Well, what did you think of it?”
“It’s quite large but with only two bedrooms and the furnishings are so old!
You should see the fixtures in the washroom.....right out of a Victorian novel with a chain to pull to flush the toilet! It’s miles in the country with no homes nearby as far as I could see. I only had a rushed look around, but it’s positively primitive, Alina!”
“Oh dear! That doesn’t sound good. What will you do?”
“I haven’t a clue! I am supposed to be here for two months but I can’t see how I can live there for that length of time. My plans might have to be changed.”
“Of course! You must do whatever seems right for you.”
“Let me speak to Susan for a minute, Alina.”
“Hi Anna! Great to hear from you. How can I help?”
“Susan, I have just been handed an envelope with a letter from Helen Dunlop which I was to receive only if I came to see the farm house.”
“Ah! That’s interesting! What does it say?”
“That’s the problem, Susan. I don’t know if I can cope with any more today. I haven’t even opened it yet.”
“Well, I can understand why not. You do sound tired, Anna. Perhaps you should sleep on it and see what tomorrow brings. You can call me and we’ll discuss the contents after you’ve had some rest. How does that sound to you?”
“It sounds like the best advice I’ve had in days, Susan. Trust you to put me back on track.
I am going to have a meal now and go right to sleep. I’ll call you in the afternoon. That will be the morning for you, I think.”
“Don’t worry, Anna. It will all work out as it’s supposed to. Take your time and take care of you.”
“Thanks, Susan. Give Alina a hug for me and please tell the others what’s been happening.”
“I will. Talk to you tomorrow. We are all thinking of you. Bye for now!”
* * *
Anna woke with the morning light shining on her face and the cries of seagulls echoing through the room. She sat up, stretched, and threw off the covers to find she was still wearing the robe from the night before.
The open window looked out from the back of the hotel which was on a pier surrounded on three sides by sparkling blue water. An incongruous, red-roofed building blocked some of the view, but she could see an island not too far away and the misty outline of another, larger island in the distance. A few boats bobbed near the pier and a larger craft was approaching, escorted by the circle of seagulls that must have woken her.
Nothing else moved as far as she could see.
What time is it, she wondered? It took a minute to find her watch and confirm the time shown on the bedside clock/radio. It was just after 6:30am.
All at once, memory rushed back and she recalled the decisions that awaited her on this first full day in Oban.
What would she do with the farm house?
What was in the letter George had given her?
What facilities were available to her in this town?
Could she afford to stay on in this hotel indefinitely?
What would be required of her at George’s office appointment?
How much more stress and uncertainty could she tolerate?
Her head throbbing with unanswered questions, Anna felt her shoulders slump as she dropped down onto the bed in despair. This day was not beginning well.
A blast of cool, fresh air with the salt tang of the sea reached her nostrils from the window, and finally breathed new life into her brain.
“Hold on a minute!” she told herself, “This is supposed to be an adventure. Nothing this promising has happened to me in decades. Here I am in the middle of a mystery and I am already thinking negatively. Susan would say I am undermining myself before I even start!”
The mention of Susan’s name reminded Anna of her promise to call later this afternoon.
The thought of reporting to the analytical Susan galvanized her into action.
Looking around the room she saw clearly the results of the distracted state of mind she had been in the night before. The supper tray with remnants of food still lay on the floor near the bed and clothing was scattered all over the room.
“Maria would be appalled at the way I have treated my new clothes,” she lectured herself.
Collecting the discarded clothing and hanging it up in the large, dark-wood wardrobe whose style matched all the other old furniture in the high-ceilinged room, restored her sense of order. She was unsure whether or not to unpack her cases but decided to retrieve just a change of clothes for now and stow the cases out of the way. The food tray went outside the door in a moment.
A clearer floor space seemed to promote a clearer mind and Anna found it easier to see the next step.
The adjoining white-tiled washroom was spacious, if a trifle cold, and Anna found she had unpacked her toothbrush and shampoo at some point in the previous night, so she started the shower over the roll-topped bath and carefully stepped inside.
The warm water was soothing. By the time she emerged, some of that negativity had washed away and her attitude, as well as the weather outside, seemed to have improved.
Dressed in her raincoat over a black skirt and sweater, Anna tiptoed downstairs determined to survey the town before she tackled any of the other demands on her mental list. She took Helen’s letter and slipped it into her purse for later. She would start with the easier stuff first.
The hotel was either empty of travellers or full of late sleepers. There was no one to be seen, and only the distant sound of dishes being set on tables in the breakfast room proved there was a living soul around.
Once outside the heavy hotel entrance door with its stained glass panel of a seascape, the world came alive in sound and sight.
Anna was looking at a little sandy beach only a few metres from where she stood. Beyond that, across the water to her right was the hive of activity of the rail and ship terminal where she had arrived only a few hours before. This pier dwarfed the one on which her hotel stood and even at this early hour there were cranes unloading goods and fish, and train carriages were being shunted from line to line. She could see a queue of passengers forming beside one of the buildings near a waiting ship.
Turning her head to the left again she saw a row of stores across the street from the beach but before she could grasp any further details her eyes were drawn to the steep hillside above the seafront.
Atop ranks of stately, granite-grey homes interspersed with trees and shrubs, stood a structure that would not have looked out of place in Rome. Like a tiara on the skyline above the town, the tiers of arched shapes formed a coliseum-like image that had to be the most unexpected item in what looked to Anna to be a traditional, small Scottish town.
The laughter that exploded from her mouth at this thought, released the stress she had been carrying better than anything else could have done.
“I think I am going to enjoy this place!” she chuckled. “Someone here has a sense of humour, that’s for sure!! I will climb that hill and find out about it as soon as I can.”
Still smiling, Anna marched briskly forward to explore while the streets were quiet.
She breathed deeply and drew the crisp, clear air into her lungs. She could feel energy flowing into her and suddenly she saw positives rather than negatives around her.
A nearby Bank of Scotland reminded her to open an account and deposit the money orders that were locked in her suitcas
e. The store windows along the main street gave her ideas about soft furnishings to improve the farm house. Another store, strangely titled ‘Ironmonger’, held a wide range of useful electrical goods and supplies for the household.
A display of heavy sweaters in one window drew her attention. These were the famous Aran knitwear which looked appropriate for fishermen out at sea, but the window also contained a pair of knee-length, green, rubber boots that Anna considered might be more suitable for country living than the delicate footwear she currently possessed.
She had not found a grocery store, but she passed a newsagent with papers, magazines and supplies like milk and juice. That’s like our corner stores in Canada, she guessed.
The main street along which she was walking turned out to be named George Street and this reminded her of her appointment at noon with George McLennan. She found the solicitors’ office above a Chemist shop that looked like a drug store to Anna and made a mental note of how long it would take her to get there from the hotel.
George Street was now busy with traffic and she observed that it was a one-way street, suggesting that another street somewhere must lead in the opposite direction.
The decision on whether or not to drive in Scotland was already made. Anna had been alarmed at the speed of drivers in Glasgow but after her experience on the country roads last evening with George, she knew she would be too nervous to compete with these drivers even if she could afford the prices for hired cars. She would have to find another way to get around.
Almost without noticing it, Anna was beginning to plan how she would live in the McCaig Farm House. She stopped abruptly in the street and tried to figure out how she had managed such a complete change of opinion from the night before.
Could it be that sleep and a little exercise in the fresh air had effected such a transformation? Or was it possible that this quaint little town in this gorgeous setting between the mountains and the sea, had spun a web around her in some mystical way?
The appetizing smell of frying bacon assailed her nostrils from a nearby restaurant full of early customers. There is nothing like hunger to bring one back to reality, she thought, with a smile at the evident enjoyment of the customers seated inside.
