by Ruth Hay
As soon as they were off the track and onto the main road she quickly filled in the details.
Bev’s head remained forward with her eyes on the road but Ashley could tell she was surprised.
“I must say, I did not expect to ever hear Anna was willing to reveal aspects of her life with Lawren.
You must know how private a person she is, and always has been. I really feel I should say I hope you have not taken advantage of her weakened state, or even her gratitude for all you have done during her illness, to put pressure on Anna. We Sambas are very protective of her, you know.”
Once more, Ashley was brought abruptly to a realization of how privileged she was to be allowed this insight into Anna’s life. She knew she must proceed with caution if she was to get the kind of cooperation that would make her proposed book successful. She quickly decided to try to mend fences with Bev.
“I can assure you, Mrs. Matthews, that I am well aware of how fortunate I am to get this opportunity. I would never put pressure on my aunt and I will respect her boundaries totally. You must know how Lawren Drake’s popularity as an artist has grown since his untimely death. There are many who long for more insight into his life; the kind of insight only Anna can reveal.”
“Oh, I do understand the appeal, Ashley. Art fans appear regularly at my door and they have been known to climb on windowsills at Anna’s place to try to get a glimpse inside.”
She chuckled, and Ashley was relieved to hear the topic had a funny side.
“I shouldn’t object, of course. Many’s the farmhouse cream tea I have sold while avoiding answering impertinent questions from strangers. I suppose your book will eliminate some of the curious from arriving here. That’s if you can get sufficient information from Anna to complete it. She could take offence if you get too close to private matters.”
Ashley thanked Bev for her warnings and recognized she was not going to get any intimate stories from this source. She turned her thoughts to the shopping trip and they rode the rest of the way in silence.
Three hours later, they met up for a coffee in a restaurant with a fine view of the harbour. The tide was in and the strip of sand had almost disappeared. Bev had already stowed her purchases in her car and asked how Ashley had managed with her own list. They looked over the baby gifts Ashley had found and she was pleased to have Bev’s approval of the small garments.
“I’m sure Fiona will love to have these smart new things for her son. It’s a few years now since Fergus was a baby. What else did you find?”
“Well, I found a digital recording device but it will be a back-up to my smart phone that does record speech quite nicely. I am not going to push Aunt Anna to talk for long so I will transcribe her words as we go along. That will give me a sense of the shape of the book and of how we need to proceed.”
“I hope I was not too discouraging before, Ashley. I don’t disapprove of your book idea, it’s just that I am very protective of one of my oldest friends. If Anna had not decided to keep the McCaig Estate Farmhouse, I would never have met Alan Matthews or have had the opportunity to live here in this beautiful country and bring up my boys here with the father figure they had lacked for many years.
I owe her a lot.”
Ashley nodded her head and sipped her coffee. She decided to take a chance and offer Bev a preview of her writing to calm her worries. It was not something a writer usually did, as the structure of a book could change radically as it progresses, but she needed this woman on her side.
“If you wish, Bev, I could show you some of the preliminary pages so you could be assured of my deep respect for Anna Drake.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I will be content to see the finished work like so many others around here, and elsewhere in the world.”
Once again Ashley was reminded of her responsibilities. This book, if it ever came to be published, would have an audience far beyond Oban and with that realization came the understanding of her accountability to Anna’s memories, her friends’ concerns, and to the art world in general. It was a formidable prospect and one she had to tuck into the back of her mind. If she set out to meet the demands of such different readers she would be stymied at the start and the project would never be completed.
She took a deep breath, looked out at the view of Oban harbour and determined to do her best by focusing solely on her aunt and the privilege she had been offered in her exclusive access. She must go at her aunt’s pace and not force her memories. It was a tricky thing to do but she was going to use every resource she had, both physical and mental, to make the entire process as easy as possible.
Anna Mason Drake deserved that at least.
Chapter Twelve
Wednesday arrived with only one short session with her aunt while they tried out the new recorder.
It was a small unit with a rechargeable battery and Ashley was pleased it did not take up space or look too imposing. She could switch it on and it worked silently without being too obvious.
They were seated in the kitchen when the conversation began. Ashley wanted to go on from their previous session so she had prepared a question for her aunt.
“As you got to know Lawren Drake, which was more important to you; your art idea or your personal connection?”
Anna laughed and drew a shawl around her as if to ward off the intrusive question. Ashley’s heart quailed. Had she gone over the boundaries already?
“It’s a good question Ashley. I don’t know if I can give you a clear answer. You must understand that my feelings toward Lawren were quite mixed from the beginning. I can’t deny there was a strange attraction that I couldn’t explain, but I was not looking for a relationship. Certainly not one with a man I perceived to be much younger than myself. The very thought was ridiculous to me. And yet, I pursued the matter of the portrait even when I secretly felt it must be a disaster since I could furnish the artist with so little in the way of material he could work with.”
“Was he not surprised to be invited to Scotland to continue with the portrait?”
“Now, that was the most impulsive thing I ever did. I hardly knew him and there I was paying for a plane ticket to fly him to a place he had never been in his life. He was surprised, all right, and he was not the only one. Alina was positively aghast at my decision. She suspected Lawren of all kinds of nefarious designs on me and my property. She held those suspicions for a long time. In fact, the turning point was when the portrait was finally revealed upstairs in the master bedroom to an audience of friends and family. Somehow, they could all see that each brushstroke was imbued with genuine love and concern for me. But, I suppose I am jumping ahead in the story.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right. It must have been a very special moment for you. No wonder you remember it so clearly.” Ashley saw that her aunt’s hand was covering her throat and her eyes were clouding over with distant thoughts.
“Let’s leave it there for now. I have a date this afternoon at Glenmorie. I don’t expect to see Fiona or Gordon but I will leave the gifts for the new baby with Donald after the tour of the castle.
Can I get anything from town for you Aunt Anna?”
“No, no, dear. I’m happy here in the kitchen. I’ll phone Jeanette and arrange our visit to Glenmorie’s new house for Friday perhaps?”
“Yes, that suits me very well.”
She had hardly finished speaking when a knock came at the door and Dr. Jansen was revealed on the doorstep, wearing a casual sweater under his suit jacket.
“I thought I should check on the patient before we go,” he said, by way of an apology.
Darn it! Ashley does not look ready to go. I am too early. She’ll think I am overanxious.
“Oh, of course. I’ll just go and get my things. Aunt Anna is through in the kitchen.”
She quickly snatched up the recorder and fled upstairs to tidy up. He was early. Did that mean he was anxious to see her or that he was more concerned with his medical work, even on what was supposed to be a day off? She knew b
etter than to keep a man waiting. Her grandfather was still a demon for punctuality even in his retirement years and her mother insisted he was even worse when she was a child. The necessity of being on time was ingrained into Ashley and she did not like to be keeping a busy doctor waiting for her.
Her jacket and purse were lying on the bed and her outdoor shoes were on the carpet underneath. She grabbed a scarf in case of wind or rain and glanced in the mirror over the fireplace to see what she looked like to a stranger.
Her hair had grown longer since she arrived in Oban and it curled around her earlobes. She was losing the remains of her Canadian tan and she had also lost weight during her nursing stint. She turned her head from side to side to see if she had acquired cheekbones as a result, and was pleased to find that was the case. Her hazel eyes sparkled as usual and she concluded she didn’t look too bad at all. Good enough to impress a local doctor, if, indeed, she needed to impress him.
Edmund Jansen was pleased to see Anna Drake looking so much better. She had made a good recovery from chickenpox and seemed to be coping with nothing more than a certain weakness of the major muscle groups. He agreed with her intention to stay indoors until the weather had improved and encouraged her to eat well in the meantime. During their conversation, he was listening for Ashley’s steps on the stairs. He felt uncertain of his reception and was well aware of how uncomfortable it might be to spend time with someone who was possibly meeting an obligation to him because of his care of her aunt, and who really had no special interest in him. On the other hand, he was conscious of the fact he had not had the opportunity to meet many young women since his practice occupied so much of his time. It also occurred to him that this particular young woman was not a local resident. If this afternoon’s visit turned out to be a disaster, Ashley Stanton would eventually return to Canada and he need never be reminded of his failure again. It was a reassuring thought.
“There you are, Ashley,” exclaimed her aunt. “Do take your raincoat and an umbrella in case the weather turns wet. Have a good time at Glenmorie and tell them I’ll be coming soon with Jeanette.”
Ashley did as she was told and soon followed Edmund down the path to his waiting car. It was a much smaller vehicle than the others she had been in and she was, by necessity, in much closer contact with the driver. The initial moments were taken up with directions to the castle and Ashley took over the conversation as they bypassed Oban town and arrived on the main road north.
“Have you seen many Scottish castles, Edmund?”
“Not really. I’ve been to a few on the east coast like the ruins of Linlithgow and to Delgatie Castle, but not since I was a child. Much of my time was taken up with medical studies. My folks are not wealthy so I needed to work for financial help; scholarships and the like. Holidays were scarce and far between.”
So he’s always been a hard-working man. That speaks well for him.
“I went to university in Calgary myself and I know what it is to have to meet high standards. My mother, Donna, is a bit of an unsettled character. My grandparents, Anna’s brother Simon and his wife Michelle, were my mainstay while my mother and father backpacked all over the world.”
“That’s interesting. We have had very different upbringings I suppose. What did you study?”
“Oh, English Lit. mostly, but I ended up in journalism when I saw no future in university teaching.”
“So, you are a reporter or an author, or both?”
“Exactly! I can turn my hand to either when required.”
“Which draws you to Oban at the moment?”
The questions were getting a bit too close for Ashley’s comfort. The fewer people who knew about her writing project with her aunt, the better. They had just turned on to the approach road to Glenmorie so she diverted Edmund’s query with further instructions.
“Oh, we’re almost there. You will see the tower house rising above the fir trees in just a moment. We can park on the driveway and I am sure Donald will meet us with the keys. Fiona and Gordon recently moved to a new family house they built. I think the castle is unsuited for a young family, as you will see.”
As expected, Donald was waiting for them.
“I saw the car when you entered the driveway by the main road. I was upstairs checking on the windows. It’s a fine day so far. It’ll be good to give the old place an airing. Come away in, doctor. This’ll be your first visit?”
They shook hands and Donald took a good look at the young doctor’s face. He was known as a person who could read a face well. Ashley wondered what he made of Edmund Jansen.
“Yes. It’s a fine-looking place. I can see it’s been kept in great shape which is unusual these days.
“Aye. There’s not so much money around for maintenance of old buildings. Many a castle or mansion has been sold to foreigners. If the Laird and his lady did not have such a love of the place and a determination to preserve it, I fear it would have fallen into ruin by now.”
Edmund exchanged a glance with Ashley. She seemed to agree with this conclusion. He had not met the Laird and his Fiona but he could tell from Donald’s tone of voice, which matched Ashley’s prior conversation, that the couple was more than just his employers.
This was proved to be true when they arrived at the top of the steep set of stairs into the main hall of the castle. Donald was giving his well-rehearsed spiel about the historical, defensive reasons for such an elevated living area but Edmund hardly heard. His attention was taken by the impressive room stretching the width of the building with its ancestral paintings on the walls interspersed with a selection of fine targes and swords. There was a massive fireplace and the requisite tartan, high-backed chairs before it, but the polished table adorned with tall candle sconces demanded the most admiration.
“Do you host dinners at this table?” he asked, as soon as Donald had taken a breath.
“Indeed we do. Ashley will know of a lovely Canadian lady, Valerie Westwood, who escorts private tours in Scotland. She brings her group here for a special occasion and they enjoy a traditional meal in this hall. It’s always a great success.”
“I’m sure it is. This is a magnificent setting. Who keeps the silver looking so bright?”
It was an unusual question for a man to ask and Ashley was initially surprised and even more so at his explanation.
“I ask, because I had a job in a museum in Aberdeen when I was a student. One of my jobs was to clean the silver, both the flat wear and the decorative display pieces. I have intimate knowledge of how messy and precise that work has to be.”
“You are right there, sir. Our housekeeper does not do so much these days as her knees are giving her trouble, but she had the help of a lassie from Oban, who she is teaching. Perhaps you would give her a tip or two?”
“Oh, no! My time is taken up with a different kind of activity. I’ll leave that task to others, if you don’t mind.”
All three laughed at this and the tour continued in a lighter vein now Donald had the measure of his listener. Ashley was able to add in a few pointers about sword play as they climbed the spiral stone stairs to the bedrooms above the hall. She had not previously been on this private floor and she looked around with interest. The master bedroom had a huge bed with carved wooden headboard and footboard. She suspected it might once have borne a superstructure supporting a canopy, but that was gone now. The room had been denuded of personal touches which had likely been moved to the new house. With its whitewashed walls and slate floor it had the appearance of a forlorn place despite the alcove windows and the large chest at the foot of the bed. She supposed it was not necessary to decorate a room that was used mainly in the dark. It seemed to fit the Scottish bent toward the practical rather than the overtly showy.
The other three bedrooms were now even more stark and the small bathroom had clearly been added on by stealing a section of the stairwell. Ashley did not blame Fiona for wanting a much more friendly place for her young children to sleep.
“Would
you be wanting to climb up to the ramparts to see the fine view over the land?”
Donald’s question prompted Ashley to fasten up her jacket and retrieve the ever-useful headscarf she had tucked into a pocket. The crenelated roof was indeed high above the surrounding land and the wind whipped Edmund’s dark hair around his head. He didn’t seem to mind, but she had a fear of great heights and stood back against the door leaving Edmund to venture around the perimeter with Donald as he pointed out the various areas of the estate where fishing and hunting were allowed and the stands of mixed tree varieties were planted that were returning the land to the forests of ages past.
“So, Donald, can we get a glimpse of the new house you mentioned? I think it must be something special to compete with this tower castle.”
“Well the Laird’s idea was to blend the house into its surroundings in such a way that you would not see it from the castle. If you follow the line of the river over to your left, you will just be able to see a part of the roof.”
Edmund looked where his guide had indicated but he was unable to detect anything roof-like in the sea of green in the distance.
Donald waited a moment or two then put him wise to the joke he was playing.
“Dinna fache, laddie! You’re not supposed to be able to see it at all! That’s the whole point. Part o’ the roof is green turf where wildflowers will be growing on it in the spring. The other part has these big photo voltaic panels that store the sunshine. Those point to the south of course. You’d be needing binoculars to see any of it at all, at all!”
He went off, chuckling, to lead the way back to ground level. Neither of them noticed that Ashley had not moved from the doorway. Edmund gripped her shoulder as they descended in single file. He murmured his thanks in her ear. She smiled and nodded, smelling the fresh air that still surrounded him, but she did not turn around. The descent was treacherous as it was designed to be very narrow and the stone steps were only wide enough for feet at one particular point near the outer wall.
