Kissed by the Rain

by Claudia Winter

  Just try it, pickpockets.

  They wouldn’t know what hit them.

  Notes About the Setting

  On a trip to Scotland in April 2015, I got to know the wonderful Cairngorm Mountains in the heart of the Scottish Highlands. I grew especially fond of Kincraig, a picturesque village that fired up my imagination. It is a worthwhile destination for every traveller.

  I hope I will be forgiven for bending the physical truth a little for my story. Kincraig, for example, has neither a castle restaurant nor “tea” in the gift shop. You would also look in vain for a shopping street.

  All characters and locations, while inspired by Scotland, are fictitious. Any similarities are purely accidental.

  A Note of Thanks

  There are again many people who lent support and suggestions during the writing of this novel, and helped bring its stories to life.

  Most of my helpers this time were intimately familiar with Scotland, and I got to know the country and, most importantly, its people through them. I owe a debt of gratitude to John and Irene at Crubenbeg House in Newtonmore, Scotland. They not only provided me with food and shelter, but also made sure that I felt completely at home while making my first approaches to the setting and characters of this novel.

  I thank John for his amusing stories about Scots and Scotland, for his interest in my writing, for valuable suggestions, and for his humour. Not only are you responsible for my greatly improved knowledge of English after just one week, you also made sure that my English language homepage developed into a perfect representation of the author Claudia Winter.

  Thank you, Irene, for always being thoughtful and caring, for looking after my physical well-being, and for sharing two of your terrific secret recipes from Crubenbeg House and allowing me to use them in my book. I love your chocolate cake with beetroot.

  Brian Fraser and Heike Setzepfandt, my Scottish experts from the Facebook community, allowed me to pelt them with questions and did not even lose their cool when I wanted to know how to say “crazy son of a bitch” in Gaelic; in the end, I spared the reader this expression. Above all, Heike’s suggestions for various characters were invaluable. I thank both of you for being there for me.

  Thanks to Andreas Schneider and Gabriele Tiedke of the Schottland-für-Alle travel agency for arranging my stay with John and Irene. It is remarkable how well you look after your customers and it was a pleasure to finally get to know you and your terrific dog in person. Anyone ever in need of a carefree Scotland package should consider these two and their small company with a big heart.

  Of course, there are also special people in Germany who helped this novel along. First of all, I thank my fellow authors, Silvia Konnerth and Julia Dessalles, who agonised with me about plot and plotlines, gently praised and critiqued, and helped me out of many a dead end. Thanks for your heart, dear Silvia, and for your lovely laughter, dear Julchen—and for always believing in me, both of you.

  I can’t praise Nicola Knothe enough for always being amazed and enthusiastic. You were with me from the very beginning on the little raft that slowly became an actual boat. You threw yourself into the ocean of my story and provided so much encouragement that I can now cope with problems I would never have tackled before. You were, are, and remain my best friend in every way.

  To those who read my story before it was published, my gratitude for their honest opinions and valuable suggestions for making the novel better—Beate Döring, with her laser-sharp eye for even tiny inconsistencies; the incomparable writer’s collective, Rose Snow, for their professionalism; Christina Schulz; my colleague Eva Lirot, a mystery writer who normally doesn’t like romances, but was enthralled by the lucky stars; and, of course, Anna Hingott. You are all terrific.

  I would also like to thank the dedicated AmazonCrossing team and my editor, Gabriella Page-Fort, who could hardly wait for me to finish this novel. Thanks also to Lauren Edwards, my German language contact person, who took care of all my little concerns as if they were major ones. I thank my translator, Maria Poglitsch Bauer, who has given voice to my language in English. It has been a pleasure working with all of you.

  I am grateful to Michaela and Klaus Gröner of erzähl:perspective, my literary agents, for your professionalism, industrious work, and a glass of champagne every now and then. There are many things I couldn’t have done without you. Thank you.

  And I bow to you, dear reader, because if you are reading these words, you have accompanied Josefine, Aidan, Bri and Li, Charlie, and all the others to the very end. I hope that my story brought you pleasure and possibly not only a smile . . . but a little bit of Scotland.

  Recipes

  Charlie’s Cheesecake

  Vanilla-scented and topped with a pouf of airy meringue, this cheesecake is unusual. Made with cottage cheese and sour cream, it has a bit of a tang—which is just what Charlie liked.

  Serves 8–10

  For the crust:

  4 tablespoons/65 grams butter, at room temperature, plus more for greasing the pan

  1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons/75 grams sugar

  Seeds from half a vanilla bean

  1 1/2 cups/200 grams flour

  1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

  1 large egg

  For the filling:

  1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon/125 grams sugar, plus 3 tablespoons for the meringue

  Seeds from half a vanilla bean

  3 large eggs, divided

  1 (16-ounce/454-gram) container sour cream

  1 (16-ounce/454-gram) container low-fat cottage cheese

  1 (4.6-ounce/130-gram) package cook-and-serve vanilla pudding mix

  1 cup/250 ml whole milk

  1/4 cup/60 ml sunflower or canola oil

  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease a 10-inch spring-form pan with butter, place it on a rimmed sheet pan, and set aside.

  First, make the crust: in a medium bowl, blend together the sugar and the vanilla bean’s seeds with your fingers until evenly mixed. Whisk in the flour and baking powder, then add the 4 tablespoons butter and egg and blend in the wet ingredients with a wooden spoon. When there are no visible wet spots left, knead the dough with your hands until evenly moist and crumbly, then dump the dough into the prepared pan. Scoot about two-thirds of the dough to the edges of the pan and, using your fingertips, pat it into the corners and up the sides of the pan, so a thin layer of crust comes about 1 inch up the sides. Pat the remaining crust into a thin layer on the bottom of the pan, and set aside.

  Next, make the filling: in a large bowl, blend together the 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar and the vanilla bean seeds until evenly mixed. Add the egg yolks and whisk to combine, then add the sour cream, cottage cheese, pudding mix, milk, and oil, and whisk until blended. Pour the mixture into the crust. Bake for 45 minutes, or until the centre is puffed and jiggles as a whole.

  Meanwhile, in a standing mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the reserved egg whites on high speed until foamy (about 30 seconds). With the machine running, add the remaining three tablespoons of sugar in a slow stream, then beat for another 1–2 minutes, until the whites form a shiny meringue and the whisk holds the whites in a stiff peak when you remove it. When the cake is done, pour the meringue in a pretty pattern on top, spreading it all the way to the crust (but not letting it touch the pan). Bake for an additional 15 minutes, or until the meringue is lightly browned.

  Let the cake cool completely (or chill overnight, if desired), then cut into slices and serve.

  Finola’s Cullen Skink

  (Adapted with friendly permission from Crubenbeg House, Newtonmore, Scotland.)

  While some people mistakenly believe that “skink” refers to a small animal, the Cullen skink is a traditional Scottish soup from the Moray Firth area. “Skink” is Gaelic, meaning “shank,” and in this instance means “essence”—in Scotland, it’s a term commonly used for soup. You could call this Scotland’s smoky version of a fish chowder.

  Serves 4

 
1 pound/454 grams russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces

  1 (1-pound/454-gram) fillet cold-smoked haddock or other smoked white-fleshed fish, skin removed

  3 cups/750 ml whole milk

  1 medium yellow onion, cut into 1/2-inch pieces

  1 dried bay leaf

  1 tablespoon/15 grams butter, cut into pieces

  Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

  2 tablespoons heavy cream

  3 tablespoons chopped parsley, for serving

  Put the potatoes in a medium saucepan, add cold water to cover, bring to the boil, and then simmer for about 10 minutes, until the potatoes are completely soft. Drain the potatoes, return them to the pan, and mash. Set the potatoes aside, covered to keep them warm.

  Meanwhile, in a soup pot, combine the haddock, milk, onion, and bay leaf over a medium heat and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer until the haddock becomes creamy and starts to break apart and the onions are soft (about 10 minutes). Pour the mixture through a strainer into a clean pan, separating the haddock, onion, and bay leaf from the milk. When it’s cool enough to handle, flake the fish apart, picking out any bones you see, and add the flakes and the cooked onion back into the milk. (Discard the bay leaf.) Stir the hot mashed potatoes into the milk mixture, then stir in the butter. Season the soup with salt and pepper to taste. Return the soup to the heat and bring back to the boil. Stir in the cream. Serve hot, sprinkled with the chopped parsley.

  About the Author

  Photo © 2011 Alexandra Zoth Photo-Stage

  Claudia Winter has been writing since childhood. She has previously published two romantic comedies, a crime novel and several short stories in German. The author of Apricot Kisses and Kissed by the Rain, she also works as a certified specialist in social pedagogy at an elementary school. Winter currently lives with her husband and two dogs in a small town in Germany.

  About the Translator

  Maria Poglitsch Bauer grew up in Carinthia, Austria, and fell in love with the English language early in life. Her first translation attempt happened at age twelve, when after little more than two years of high school English, she stumbled across an abridged version of The Great Gatsby, judged it “great,” and wanted to share it with those who did not speak the language. Fortunately, the unfinished opus languished in the drawer of a desk which was eventually stolen. The joy of hunting for the right word stayed with her.