by Ruth Hay
Fee opened her mouth to protest but recognising Anna’s serious ‘teacher voice’, she decided to nod her head in grateful consent. She could not prevent a tear from sliding down her cheek, however, and although she wiped it away quickly, Anna noticed and was even more determined to help this girl whose path in life had been so difficult.
“Right then,” she stated decisively, “that’s settled. Now, back to business!
I think we are getting close to Oban. I have a lot of shopping to do there, but, for pity’s sake, Fee, tell me what on earth the mini coliseum is doing on top of that hill!”
Laughter broke the sombre mood, and the tale of McCaig’s Folly and the unknown connection to the farm house of the same name, occupied the rest of the way into town.
Anna insisted on treating Fee to lunch although it would be a fast one, as Fee had to collect children from the Rockfield Primary School at 3:30pm promptly.
Fee recommended the restaurants on the North Pier which Anna had seen when she looked out of the window from the Columba Hotel. Given the choice between pizza and seafood, Anna selected the latter as she could smell the delicious aroma of frying fish on the salt air. A winning combination, she thought, as her mouth began to water.
Fee translated the restaurant’s name, E-Eusk, meaning simply, Fish, in Gaelic.
The fish and chips, a Scottish national dish in many opinions, was delicious, but the view from the plate glass windows of Kerrera island and the blue waters beyond, was fascinating to Anna. Fee insisted that she would have to make time to sail to Iona, the sacred isle of Christianity, and tour some of the beauty spots in the area before she went back to Canada.
“Stop in at the Tourist Information Centre on Tweedale Street,” she suggested.
“They will give you plenty of ideas. If you wait there when you have finished shopping, I can pick you up, as it’s close to George Street.”
* * *
Feeling revitalized after an excellent lunch, Anna waved goodbye to Fee and set off on her shopping expedition. Now that she had a better idea of the town’s facilities she could find what she needed more quickly. This left time for a visit to the town’s library which was near the Tourist Office in another Victorian house that had sacrificed its front garden to make parking spaces for patrons.
Anna was curious to see how a library in a Scottish town compared to the one she knew so well in Canada. She had read that Glasgow’s Libraries and Museums were world famous, but she had not had time to investigate for herself. She approached today’s opportunity with professional interest.
Oban’s library was small but welcoming. The bulletin board announced a number of community services including, to Anna’s surprise, programs for local school children which included scheduled visits during regular school hours.
“Now, that’s a bright idea for saving costs and space in schools,” she murmured.
“Can I help you at all?” Anna turned to see an elderly gentleman peering at her from behind a pair of glasses perched on the mid-point of his nose.
“Thank you, no. I am just looking around.”
“You would be a visitor then?” he continued. “We don’t get many tourists at this time of year.”
“Yes,” Anna replied, “I am staying at the McCaig Farm House.”
“Good! Good! “His balding head was nodding so vigorously that Anna was afraid the books he held would fall to the ground together with his glasses.
“We can issue a temporary card for you if you wish to borrow anything,” he offered eagerly.
“Well, I would be interested in something about the birds and animals in the surrounding country,” Anna ventured tentatively. She felt a little sorry for the old fellow who did not seem to have many customers today. Any rooms Anna could see were empty of people.
Although she could have found items for herself, she allowed the gentleman, who introduced himself as Kenneth Macintosh, to take her on a tour of the book shelves pointing out various titles of highland flora and fauna.
Like most librarians, Kenneth was a mine of information, and Anna was soon deep into discussions about collections, staffing and funding problems, and the contrasts she noticed to library systems she knew in North America.
“Perhaps you would like to give a talk to our Library Board while you are here, Ms. Mason? I know they would be most interested in your observations, as an outsider.”
Anna had no intention of becoming involved in the community. She had too many issues to decide without complicating her life any further. She declined the invitation as politely as she could and asked if she could leave her shopping bags for a few minutes while her temporary library card was being issued for the stack of books she had just chosen.
Kenneth was pleased to oblige, and Anna walked up the hill to Tweedale Street where she collected maps and leaflets about local attractions and found a number of items of Scottish Celtic jewellery that would make lovely gifts for her Samba friends.
Fee found her there. She was intently studying the large wall map trying to find the name of Helen’s Hill. This was proving to be impossible, as Anna did not know the area well enough to identify one small section of high ground in terrain that included many ranges of mountains.
Fee was happy to stop and load up Anna’s purchases at the library. To Anna’s surprise Kenneth and Fee broke into an animated conversation in Gaelic as soon as they saw each other. Fee explained, in English, that Kenneth was a friend of her Granny and wanted to know how his old friend was managing with her rheumatics.
I suppose everyone knows everyone in a small town these days, Anna guessed, as Kenneth escorted them to the taxi and waved as they drove away.
“If you don’t mind, Anna,” said Fee, I would like to take a detour before we return to the farm house.”
Anna was intrigued and readily agreed. Fee took a side street and the car climbed steadily upward. Anna was enjoying the view over Oban from the rear windows and did not at first notice they had reached McCaig’s Folly. She turned to Fee to ask if they were going inside when the sound of bagpipes rose into the air. All conversation stopped while Anna absorbed the spine-tingling tunes and drum beats that emerged from the arches above their heads.
When the last, melancholy notes had died into the open air, Anna exhaled deeply and waited for Fee to explain what had just happened.
“While I was in town this afternoon, I heard that the Oban Pipe Band was holding a practice session. They compete at Highland Games all summer and meet here regularly to march around the tower and use these best-possible acoustics.”
When she could catch her breath again, Anna declared, “Fiona Jameson that was an unforgettable experience. I now know I truly am in Scotland.”
Fee seemed pleased that her surprise had been so successful. She smiled often on the way back to the farm house. Anna, seated by her side, was silently wondering how her own parents had been able to leave this land and its customs behind with never a backward glance, and had neglected to pass on anything of their heritage to their two children.
* * *
The attack on the kitchen fireplace began with Fee’s instructions on how to lay a fire.
Anna, who had never camped outside and whose experience of fires was limited to gas appliances such as barbecues, followed the steps carefully. If she wanted to be warm and clean in this house, she knew she would have to feed this monster stove on a regular basis with its desired food.
Fee had assembled a large supply of fuel from the garden shed. First she placed rolled newspaper in the fire basket in the centre of the stove. Anna helped to prepare these by rolling, then twisting, sheets of paper into a tight knot. On top of these Fee laid a layer of dry sticks criss-crossed over the paper twists. Only one or two larger sticks were carefully balanced on top with a few small pieces of coal.
Anna asked if this would be enough for the evening ahead. Fee laughed and replied that this was only the first stage in the process and they would have to stand by until the fire got prop
erly started.
Chastened by the thought of her ignorance, Anna watched carefully as Fee made sure all doors in the kitchen were closed to draughts. Next, she picked up a long-handled pair of tongs from a set of fire implements at the side of the hearth stone and reached into the chimney until the metal tongs connected with a hook. Explaining as she pulled on this hook that it caused a plate to open in the chimney above, allowing smoke to escape, Fee cautioned that this step was vital if Anna did not want to be choked with smoke inside the kitchen. Fee then knelt down and applied a lit match to the bottom layer of paper.
Anna could not help thinking of the ceremonial nature of this performance and how humans down through the ages had worshipped fire as the giver of life.
She could now understand the importance of fire in a way she had never before experienced. Despite her sweater and new wool suit, the chill of evening in the farm house was inching its way through her clothing. There was a perceptible drop in temperature as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon in these parts.
As she watched with bated breath, yellow flames began to lick at the paper twists and soon there was enough flame to ignite the sticks above and, finally, the larger pieces of wood.
Fee explained that coal was the main heat source in a long-lasting fire but the secret was to get the wood and paper to catch fire before they collapsed and the whole process had to be repeated from the beginning.
Handing the tongs to Anna, Fee supervised as Anna carefully placed more coal on the young fire.
“Take it slowly now,” warned Fee, “too much, too soon will snuff out the flame. At the end of the evening, when the fire is good and hot, you need to put a layer of coal, or peat, over the top and this will keep it burning at a low level until morning, if you are lucky.”
This did not sound too hopeful to Anna. She could envisage spending a lot of time nursing fires in the coming weeks. Well, she concluded, it’s all part of the learning experience although I can now fully appreciate the benefits of central heating.
* * *
Fee set out for town as soon as the fire was burning brightly and the warmth was radiating around the kitchen.
When Anna opened the front door to bid her farewell, Fee looked up at the darkening sky towards the west and the distant sea coast.
“There’s a storm out on the Atlantic tonight by the looks of it. We got that fire going just in time. Keep everything closed up tight and you’ll be fine.”
As Fee moved off down the gravel path, Anna could see how the rising wind bowed the branches of the fir trees to the west and caught at Fee’s coat and hair. With a shiver she closed the door on the world and gave thanks that the thick walls and north-south orientation of the farm house would undoubtedly save her from the worst of a storm from the sea.
Chapter Seventeen
In the end, Anna decided to spend the night by the kitchen fire.
She had gone upstairs earlier to change clothes and light candles, but the roar of the wind combined with a scatter of hail clattering on the roof made her nervous. It was more comforting and quieter in the kitchen so she gathered up nightclothes and bedding and made herself comfortable in a soft chair and footstool she dragged in from the sitting room.
The fresh supplies from the Oban stores provided an excellent supper and with a large pot of tea, and a small dram of whisky, (a Dalwhinnie single malt, recommended by the bewhiskered Scotsman in the Wines and Spirits establishment), she settled down to read for a while and then write the first entry in her new journal.
She awakened with a start as the journal and books tumbled to the floor from her lap.
Her first thought was for the fire. Yes, it was still alight but getting lower in the grate.
Throwing aside the blankets that covered her legs, Anna rose to bank down the fire with a layer of coal as instructed.
She noticed at once that the wind noise had reached a ferocious pitch. Rain battered the window frames to the front and rear of the house and torn branches sped past, tumbling over and over in the storm. Grateful that no car was outside which might be damaged, Anna lit fresh candles and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, looked through her shopping bags for the small radio she had bought.
Once the coal had been carefully placed on the fire, she sat down with the radio on the table and fiddled with the controls until she heard a human voice through the crackling of interference.
.......... in Ross and Cromarty. Gale force winds are expected with flooding likely in some low lying areas. Temperatures will drop overnight and frost or snow will fall over high ground. Motorists are warned that roads in Glencoe as well as over the moors will be hazardous. More road and shipping reports will be available at midnight.
And now, back to our regular programming.
Anna listened for a few moments to a discussion on medical matters pertaining to the prevention of a swine flu epidemic, but found she could not concentrate on the topic with
such noisy distractions outside her windows.
Looking around for something to occupy her mind, she spotted the whisky bottle and decided to enjoy another ‘tot’ with the required ‘drop of water to bring out the hints of heather and peat’, that she had been informed about.
Sitting by the fireside with glass in hand, she wondered what her mother and father would think. With no prior knowledge or incentives about Scotland from her parents, the thought that she would ever find herself in a situation like this, could never have crossed their minds.
Life is full of the unexpected, she mused, and this drink really warms you right down to the toes. Dad used to like a whisky on occasions. What would he say if he could see me now? As her eyelids closed, Anna relaxed inside her cozy kitchen and all disturbances drifted away.
An entirely different situation met Anna’s eyes when she awoke six hours later.
All was silent again, but a strange white light was flowing into the kitchen, reminding her of mornings in the depth of Ontario’s winters.
“Am I getting confused about the seasons? Isn’t it spring here?”
As soon as she stretched and pulled away her blankets, Anna noticed how cold the room was now. The fear of an extinguished fire reawakened.
Stumbling over to the fireplace stove, she peered into the bottom of the grate praying that a tiny flame might have survived the night. There was a reddish glow far down in a bed of grey ashes and she immediately grabbed a page of newspaper and rolled it into a long taper. When the paper lit, Anna sighed with relief and with her left hand she pulled small sticks toward her from the hearth and gently poked them into the ashes.
Fifteen minutes later, with the fire saved and heat beginning to fan into the kitchen, she turned to the windows to see what the source of the odd light could be.
AS she drew close to the single-paned glass, with frost marking the edges, she could already feel chilly air entering the room. When she looked out to the front, the entire landscape had disappeared under a coat of snow.
“Snow!” she exclaimed, in surprise, “Now this is more like home!”
Rushing to the rear window, she leaned over the sink to find a similar view. The snow was piled against the stone wall on the edge of the yard and also on the tops of the hedges. She wondered if the top of Helen’s Hill was also rounded in snow but did not dare to open any doors to go outside and see. More cold air entering the farm house was not a welcome thought.
As she gazed out in delight at the transformation, a movement caught her attention.
One of the mounds of snow was moving! Now there were two, and three!
The white mounds actually jumped over the broken part of the wall and Anna realised they must be sheep who had taken shelter from the storm.
This thought led her to deduce that fences must have blown down in the night. The next logical conclusion was that the limited electric power might also be interrupted.
Anna plugged in the kettle and waited to see if the familiar noises of water coming to the boil would occur
. After a minute, she had to admit nothing was happening. Checking the light switch confirmed she was now without electricity for the foreseeable future.
The battery-powered radio provided information that a wide area had been hit by a severe spring storm. Crews would be sent to outlying areas as soon as access roads could be cleared of snow drifts, but residents were being warned to stay indoors until the situation improved. She left the radio on low for any news updates.
As soon as Anna knew she had no electricity, she craved a hot drink of coffee in the worst way.
She surveyed the monster stove as the only remaining source of heat. Didn’t Fee say her Granny remembered all the household cooking and baking being done on there?
Anna found a saucepan and poured water into it. She doubted that she could balance the pan over the fire without risking a collapse that might extinguish the flames, but she tested the metal surfaces on either side of the fire basket and found one of them was quite hot. If she put more coal on the fire, she figured, the heat would likely transfer over to the metal and eventually boil water for coffee.
With this experiment underway, she tried to calculate how long her remaining wood and coal would last, but found herself unable to judge. An expedition to the shed was going to be a priority as soon as a hot drink had been consumed.
What else could be cooked with hot water? Eggs could be boiled, of course.
Her mother used to make porridge on winter mornings when Anna and Simon were children and although they had preferred sweet, cold cereals, Anna could now understand the value of a plateful of steaming oats on a day like this.
Another item for my next shopping list, she noted, as she ventured out to the pantry for eggs, cheese, butter and bread.
It took some time, but breakfast was achieved and Anna was remarkably pleased with her resourcefulness. She had even managed to make toast by holding the bread to the fire using a long fork she had found in the cutlery drawer.
