Anne Douglas

by The Wardens Daughters

  ‘This is no good, is it?’ he asked. ‘Pretending we don’t have to say anything?’

  ‘Is it not?’ she asked in alarm. ‘Oh, why do we have to say anything?’

  ‘It’s all right, Mother. There is no need to worry. I have . . . I suppose I have come round to it.’

  ‘Oh, Niall!’

  ‘Aye, we both decided – was not just me, was Sheana as well – that we should not – you know – stand in the way of your happiness. I was upset about my dad—’

  ‘I know, I know, I understand.’

  ‘But, well, he’s been gone a long time, and you’ve been on your own. We think now ’tis what he would have wanted.’

  ‘I think so too, Niall.’

  ‘And so, today, we thought we’d come over. We guessed you’d be here, being a Sunday, and when we saw you, with Frank, in the garden –’ Niall took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow – ‘you looked so right, the two of you, we . . . well, we were glad we’d come.’

  Ishbel, her eyes glazed with tears, put out her arms to him and, taking her hands, he pulled her up and hugged her, which was the little tableau Frank and Sheana saw when they came back into the garden.

  ‘Ah, look at that!’ cried Frank, and Sheana nodded.

  ‘I guess he will be all right now, Frank, for he has been in such a state, you would never believe. He never wanted to quarrel with his mother, and neither did I, come to that. My own mother, she says, you must both make it up before you do any more damage, but we had already decided. To come over.’

  ‘Thank God you did,’ Frank said fervently. ‘How about you and me having a hug, too, then?’

  ‘Welcome to the family,’ Sheana said, and kissed his cheek.

  ‘Frank!’ Ishbel called, moving from Niall. ‘They are coming back – the hostellers!’

  ‘Aye, and my girls, too.’

  He was already hurrying down the drive, through the crowd of weary young backpackers, home from the hills, to greet Monnie and Lynette who had arrived together. Though he had no eyes for the van that was turning to drive away, or the large Wolseley that was following it, his girls were conscious of little else. Until Frank’s delight came through to them and Lynette asked, ‘What’s up, Dad? Swallowed the cream?’

  ‘Come and see!’

  Calling to the hostellers that the door was open, he’d be with them in a minute, Frank ushered his daughters over to the lawn, where he stopped, waving his arms like a showman at Ishbel and her family waiting there.

  ‘Oh, it’s Niall!’ cried Monnie. ‘And Sheana.’

  ‘We’ve just had tea together,’ Ishbel said proudly. ‘Everything is going to be all right.’

  And then the hugs began again, and the warmth generated by a family reunited surrounded the troubled sisters and cheered them for a while.

  Fifty-Four

  After the hostellers had cooked another of their terrible fry-ups, even on such a warm evening, the Foresters and the MacNicols prepared to have supper together in the annexe kitchen. At first, Niall and Sheana had said they couldn’t stay, but Ishbel had insisted that they should, it would be nice, it would be special, to eat together for the first time. And there was cold roast beef and ham, with plenty of salad, and she could just boil up a few eggs, and fetch a ham and egg pie from her shop.

  ‘Oh, Mother, trust you!’ Niall laughed. ‘Never lost for a menu!’

  ‘I told you, this was special. I suppose we should really have something to drink.’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve no wine,’ Frank said. ‘Next time, eh? I foresee plenty of celebrations ahead.’

  ‘Any thoughts on the date yet?’ asked Sheana.

  ‘Tomorrow?’ he suggested, with a laugh, in which they all joined.

  ‘Seriously, it will depend on the kirk,’ Ishbel told them. ‘I do not want a registry office wedding. So – maybe late October.’

  ‘Anything you say,’ said Frank. ‘If you want the kirk, the kirk it shall be.’

  ‘And then what?’ asked Niall. ‘You move in here, Mother?’

  She stopped slicing hard-boiled eggs and glanced at Frank. ‘I had not got that far, but, yes, I suppose I will.’

  ‘What about the shop?’ put in Sheana. ‘I should think you’d want to keep that on, it’s so good. I’d love to run a shop like that.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’ll keep it on. I can just run it from here, it will be easy enough.’

  ‘You could always be assistant warden,’ Monnie suggested lightly.

  Ishbel’s eyes widened. ‘Why, that’s your job, Monnie! I could not take that.’

  ‘Plenty of wardens’ wives do act as assistants to their husbands, you know, like the MacKays. It makes sense when you think about it.’

  ‘Yes, but I would never dream of depriving you of your job, Monnie. Don’t worry about it. Now, who is doing the dressing for the salad? We are almost ready now.’

  That first meal together, impromptu though it had been, was a great success, everyone feeling relaxed because they were relieved that a possible family rift had not actually happened. In fact, by the time Frank and Monnie had to leave to prepare for lights out, there was the lovely, rosy feeling around the table that if they hadn’t drunk any wine, they felt just as mellow as though they had.

  ‘Oh, what a shame the party has to break up,’ Ishbel said with a sigh, as they all left the table. ‘It’s been so lovely.’

  ‘Aye, duty calls,’ Frank murmured, his gaze meeting hers. ‘Just when I should really be taking you home, Ishbel.’

  ‘We’ll take Mother home,’ Niall told him.

  ‘No need,’ she said quickly. ‘I can wait till Frank’s finished his rounds, he need not be long away.’

  ‘That’s fine, then,’ Niall agreed, with an understanding grin. ‘So, shall we be off, then?’

  ‘Yes, you go.’ Ignoring Sheana’s protests that they should help with the washing up, Lynette saw them to their car, along with Ishbel, Frank and Monnie, for there were hugs again and handshakes before they finally drove away.

  ‘Oh, what a day!’ cried Isabel. ‘I don’t know if I am on my head or my heels, but I know I’m happy!’

  ‘How about you go with Dad to the common room, Ishbel?’ Monnie suggested. ‘While Lynette and I clear up?’

  ‘What a grand idea!’ cried Frank, and away the lovers went, arms entwined, though ready of course to untwine as soon as they met the hostellers.

  ‘They are so sweet together,’ Monnie said quietly. ‘I’m so glad it’s all worked out for them.’

  ‘Feel like Cinders?’ asked Lynette. ‘Come on, let’s get on.’

  Later, in their room, preparing for bed, the girls felt the euphoria of the evening slipping away. Well, they’d known it would happen. It was second-hand euphoria, after all, and though they couldn’t be more pleased for Frank and Ishbel, their joy now seemed to contrast too painfully with their own lack.

  Lynette, in blue pyjamas, putting cream on her face, appeared disgruntled. ‘Seems silly that Ishbel can’t just stay the night with Dad,’ she muttered. ‘I mean, why not?’

  ‘Why not?’ Monnie, brushing her hair, paused, her expression astounded. ‘You know why not, Lynette. Dad’s the warden here, he has to behave correctly, or there’d be trouble. Anyway, he and Ishbel – they’re not the types to jump the gun. What a thing to say!’

  ‘I don’t see that there’s anything immoral in it, really. If it weren’t for the risk of having bairns, I bet nobody’d think twice about having sex before marriage.’

  ‘But you and Ronan, you’ve never . . .?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ Lynette’s face was as dark as the night sky. ‘We’ve never slept together. Never will now.’

  ‘Oh, Lynette! Is it definitely over, then?’

  ‘We’ve been trying to pretend that it’s not, just behaving as always, but it can’t go on. There has to be a decision and I’ve made it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m going back to Edinburgh.’

  ‘I see.’ Monnie
slowly climbed into bed and propped herself against her pillows, keeping her gaze on her sister. ‘Have you told Ronan?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘He’ll be heartbroken.’

  ‘He knows what to do, if he is.’

  ‘You’ll be heartbroken, too.’

  ‘I already am.’ Lynette’s voice cracked a little. ‘But I know what I want.’

  Monnie was silent for some time, her fingers pleating her sheet, her eyes staring into space. ‘You know what I think?’ she asked, as Lynette settled into bed and picked up the novel she was reading.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I might come with you.’

  Lynette sat up straight, dropping her book. ‘Monnie, you can’t do that! You love it here, you can’t leave. You have your job—’

  ‘My job . . . Look, I wasn’t joking when I said Ishbel should do it. It’s the obvious thing. She’d love working with Dad, and didn’t you hear Sheana say she’d like to run the shop? I bet she would, too.’

  ‘But, Monnie, I just can’t see this happening. You’ve made your home here much more than I have – it’s not necessary for you to leave, really it’s not.’

  ‘Have you thought about what it’d be like for me, living in the hostel after Ishbel’s moved in? Talk about playing gooseberry! You said we’d been made redundant and that couldn’t be more true for me.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Lynette leaned forward, her gaze sharp on her sister’s face. ‘But it’s not the real reason you want to go, is it? Did you think I hadn’t noticed, you never mentioned Torquil?’

  Monnie looked down at her hands on the sheet. She made no reply.

  ‘Come on, he’s the real reason you want to get away, eh? He holds you, and you want to be free. That’s what you told me.’

  ‘Lynette, it’s my one chance! If I stay here, I know I’ll never be free, I’d never be able to give him up. But if I say I’ve no job and I have to go back to Edinburgh with you, he might accept it and I might be able to do it.’ Monnie’s grey eyes were large with emotion and hope. ‘What do you think?

  ‘I think you’re going to have to try it. You have to free yourself somehow, that’s for sure.’

  ‘I know. I have to see some end to this, I have to have my life back.’

  ‘Well, don’t say anything to him yet. I still have to speak to Ronan, remember.’

  ‘Oh, poor Lynette!’

  ‘Never mind me. I’m doing what I have to do. But you must wait till everything’s arranged before you tell Torquil. The less time he has to think about it and you have to change your mind the better.’

  ‘I shall not change my mind,’ Monnie said fervently, but Lynette, picking up her book, shook her head.

  ‘I’ll believe that when we’re safely back in Edinburgh.’

  Fifty-Five

  On a late September day with a nip of autumn in the air, Lynette finally promised herself that she would find the courage to speak to Ronan.

  ‘Today’s the day,’ she told Monnie at breakfast after Frank had left them. ‘I can’t put it off any longer.’

  ‘You’ve certainly taken your time about it.’

  ‘Well, you can guess I’m not looking forward to it!’

  ‘No, I know. OK, just as long as you tell him today and then we can make plans.’ Monnie began to clear the table. ‘Thank goodness it’s my afternoon off, anyway. I’m seeing Paul.’

  ‘Not climbing in Skye again?’

  ‘No, but that was wonderful.’ Monnie gave a reminiscent smile. ‘Taking the ferry, just being on the magic isle, never mind getting up one of the hills! Of course, it was one of the easiest.’

  ‘Where to, today, then?’

  ‘That’s the funny thing, Lynette. I don’t know. Paul’s making it a surprise. But we’re not hill walking, I know that.’

  ‘Have a good time, anyway.’

  Lynette, looking rather pale, was preparing to leave for the bus. ‘Wish me luck, Monnie.’

  ‘Oh, Lynette, I will. Just wish things could have worked out differently.’

  ‘You’re not the only one.’

  As Lynette went out, Mrs Duthie came in, quick to remark that Lynette was looking ‘peaky’, and Monnie, too. She hoped it was not the flu, then, though it was early for that.

  ‘We’re both quite well, thanks,’ Monnie said coolly as Lynette hurried on her way. ‘No need to worry about the flu.’

  ‘But is it not wonderful news then, about your dad and Ishbel MacNicol? I cannot get over it, and that is the truth. Such a fine couple they will make! You must be so happy, eh?’

  ‘We are all delighted,’ Monnie said firmly, who had had this conversation before, as the news of the engagement had been filtering round the village for some time. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must check the dormitories.’

  ‘No date yet for the wedding bells?’ Mrs Duthie called up the stairs.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘You will be sure to tell me when it is? I shall have to crochet one of my table cloths – always makes lovely presents, my crochet.’

  ‘You will be the first to know,’ Monnie replied, sure it would be true.

  After an early lunch, she was out on the drive, waiting for Paul’s car, intrigued to know where he could be taking her, glad to have something else to think about, apart from what might be happening between Ronan and Lynette. And Torquil, of course.

  ‘Not late am I?’ Paul asked, when he’d driven to a halt at the gates.

  ‘Just got here, as they say,’ Monnie answered, jumping into the passenger seat.

  She could see that Paul was excited, bubbling over with news that he wanted to tell, yet keeping it back until they reached wherever it was they were going.

  ‘Why all the secrecy, Paul? You’re like someone waiting for Christmas.’

  ‘No, I’ve got what I want for Christmas,’ he answered, smiling, as they drove away. ‘Well, partly. But it won’t take us long to get there and then all will be revealed. In the meantime, what news of your father’s wedding plans? The whole village is agog to know.’

  ‘You mean Mrs Duthie is. Well, it’s probably going to be late October, and for their honeymoon – it’s no secret – they’re going to Skye. Only be for a few days, Dad doesn’t want to be away from the hostel too long.’

  ‘Though you’ll be holding the fort, won’t you, while he’s away?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she answered readily, only just stopping herself from adding, ‘before I go to Edinburgh.’ Luckily, Paul appeared not to notice her awkward pause and she hurried on to remark that it looked like they were making for Glenelg. ‘Is that our destination?’

  ‘We’re going a little way beyond Glenelg, not far from the ferry to Skye, and within reach of some good hills. A perfect place for me.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see it.’

  ‘Nearly there. Christmas is coming! Just hope you do like it, Monnie. So far, I think we’ve always seemed to like the same things, haven’t we?’

  ‘We have, so if you like it, whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll like it, too.’

  When they had progressed a short way down a narrow country road some few miles from Glenelg, Paul turned into a private, tree-lined drive, at the end of which was a large house built of stone. There were creepers turning red. A gravel sweep before glass entrance doors. Long curtained windows, tubs of plants, wrought iron garden chairs. What struck Monnie most vividly, however, was the fact that there was a sign over the glass doors which read: Altair Hotel.

  ‘Ta Ra!’ cried Paul, stopping the car and leaping to open Monnie’s door. ‘This is it! This is my surprise. What do you think?’

  ‘This is a hotel?’ she asked, bewildered.

  ‘No, this was a hotel. Now, it is my climbing school.’

  His eyes were alight, he could hardly stop smiling at her expression, so astonished, so impressed.

  ‘Paul! You’ve found it? Your climbing school? I don’t believe it.’

  ‘It’s true. I’ve found it and I’ve bou
ght it. The deal’s just been clinched and I’ve got the keys. Apart from Jonas, my brother, you’re the first person I’ve shown it to – want to see inside?’

  ‘Do I not? But I really can’t believe it, Paul, that you’ve actually bought a whole hotel. And you’ve kept so quiet about it, I had no idea.’

  ‘I didn’t dare to talk about it, in case I didn’t get it. I tell you, I’ve been on pins, waiting till I could say it was mine.’

  ‘You know, the name’s familiar,’ Monnie told him, as he turned the key in the front door. ‘The Altair – I think it’s the place Lynette came with Ronan for dinner. And very good it was, she said. Yet the hotel still had to close?’

  ‘Sad for them, lucky for me,’ Paul said cheerfully. ‘Come on in, then.’

  ‘Why, it’s lovely!’

  Monnie, standing in what had been the hotel’s entrance hall, was admiring the white décor, the impression of light and space, the long windows over the staircase, the plain carpeted floor space. At the same time, she couldn’t help thinking that no one like Lynette would ever sit behind that empty reception desk; no guests would ever take those empty chairs. Without people, there was undoubtedly a feeling of loss, of desolation, because something had failed.

  Wouldn’t last long, though. The way Paul was walking around, transmitting feelings of energy and determination with every step, Monnie could almost see the transformation scene from abandoned hotel to climbing school taking place and felt absurdly comforted.

  ‘Of course, there’s everything to do,’ Paul was saying happily. ‘I’ve an architect coming tomorrow for a preliminary survey, then there’ll be plans to follow, builders to book, furniture to buy. I bought some of the hotel stuff – a few beds and chairs, but most of it wasn’t suitable and went for auction in Inverness.’

  ‘It’s amazing that you’re able to do so much,’ Monnie said wonderingly, as Paul continued the tour, showing her the dining room, the lounge, the bedrooms and bathrooms.

  ‘Only possible because of what my parents left me, and help from my backers. Oh, and courtesy of the bank, who’ve given me a whacking great loan. Not to mention the mortgage!’

  Paul, guiding her back down the stairs to the hall, was laughing. ‘I should be weighed down with worry, but I’m not. I’m just so happy, Monnie. I’ve found what I want to do and I’ve found the place to do it. What more could a fellow want?’