Fiona of Glenmorie

by Ruth Hay

  “Well played, Jeanette! How did it go?”

  “George plied him with drink and Mom did an excellent job of filling his stomach as well as offering to make sure his mother is entertained while she is in Oban.

  He handed over his spare keys and warned me not to bring his mother to his workplace again.

  “She can do whatever she likes in the house as long as I am not there. I will spend time with her when I have calmed down a bit, but for now, it’s best if she keeps out of my way.”

  “Ah! Alan’s mother would say you have made a birch for your own back, my dear. You’ll have your work cut out for the next couple of weeks by the sounds of it. Bring her to me when you and Jean get worn out. I hope she’s not as bad as she sounds.”

  “My hope too, Bev. Thanks for listening. It won’t surprise you to know George has said much the same things to me. He’s planning to keep out of Christine Jansen’s way.”

  “Keep me up to date with events?”

  “Surely! Bye for now.”

  * * *

  Jeanette was calling from her husband’s home office. George had already gone to bed and Jean was preparing to spend the next day with Christine at the doctor’s cottage. She insisted she would stop the woman from doing any actual destruction and keep her busy talking. That way Jeanette could get on with her own work.

  “I’ll be your spy, my dear. But if she is truly obnoxious, don’t expect me to waste my time with her.”

  It was the best deal Jeanette could expect under the circumstances.

  The plan was to drive Jean to the hotel after showing her the nearby location of the cottage on the seafront road and handing her the keys. In the evening, they would compare notes and plan the next day’s campaign.

  Jeanette went to bed hoping to sleep. She had a full calendar of design work and the supervision of a renovation in a house out of town. She closed her eyes on the prayer that her mother would, somehow, manage to cope on her own.

  Delays at the renovation house where the clients wanted to scrap the original decoration plan, meant that Jeanette did not return home until late in the evening.

  She saw the lights shining out from the windows of their elegant Victorian home and knew her mother and her husband had taken over in her absence.

  What a blessing it is to have these two pitching in! My mother is proving to be a benefit far beyond anything I could have expected when I brought her here from Vancouver to live with us. Liam and Annette love her and the feeling is mutual. When this stramash with Christine Jansen is over we will all take a few days away together to recover.

  When the dishes were done and the children in bed with books to read, Jeanette joined her mother in her bedroom and sat down on the side of the bed to hear her news.

  Jean was carefully applying a nourishing night cream to her face and neck and the delicate scent reminded her daughter of years before when she was a child sitting watching this same performance and inhaling the sights and sounds of adulthood.

  “Mom, thank you so much for covering for me today. I hope it was not too much stress for you.”

  Jean stopped to place a hairnet over her tidy white waves and sat back against her pillows ready for a good chat.

  “On the contrary, Jeanette dear! I enjoyed it.

  That woman is just lonely. She talked for hours and I was able to sympathize with her about how life changes when a husband dies.

  We worked along together and stopped often for cups of tea. The place is tiny so it did not take very long to do a bit of dusting and tidying. We changed the bed and put a wash in the machine. Afterwards we walked along to the grocery store and bought supplies for Edmund. I talked to the manager and asked for delivery service and he obliged immediately once he saw the amount of food in our cart.

  The rest of the day was spent in putting food away, doing some basic cooking for the freezer, ironing sheets and pillow cases and napkins. I promised to show her around town tomorrow and I got her back to the hotel before her son left the surgery. George gave me a ride home.”

  “Mother! You are a lifesaver once again! Bless you!

  Do you really believe she’s not as bad as she first appeared?”

  “She was understandably nervous yesterday. She wants to do well for her boy but she is in unfamiliar territory. I must say I blame Edmund for not introducing her around town before now. She feels cut off from his life in a very painful way.

  Perhaps, Jeanette, this is an opportunity to mend fences?

  Perhaps you should have a chat with Ashley about this situation? It is not good for her relationship with her future mother-in-law to get off on the wrong foot like this.”

  “Mom, you are a paragon of wisdom and I will follow your advice to the letter.”

  Jean smiled at her daughter and wiped a tear from her cheeks with a tender finger.

  “My dearest daughter, I remembered today how grateful I am to be folded into your family life in this way. I know I resisted the idea of moving across the world to you for several years, but I could not be happier you finally broke me down. Every day with my wonderful grandchildren is a treat for me. I have realized that they would never have known me if I had stayed in Vancouver, so far away from them.”

  “Mom, you are wonderful with them. They will always remember you with great love, as I will.”

  Jeanette put her head on her mother’s chest and cried quiet tears of joy.

  She determined not to waste any more of this precious time with her mother. Once she was gone, there was no way to replace her influence. Once the current decoration demands were met, her work must be set aside in favour of spending hours with the woman who had raised her and was now raising her children.

  Matters were advancing at a rapid pace in the Meco house.

  Gordon had contacted Gregor Mackintosh, an art and artifact dealer who had been helpful to Anna and Ashley when Lawren Drake’s new sketches were first uncovered.

  Gregor expressed interest in Fergus and Shona’s findings and requested photographs be sent to him in Edinburgh along with a section of the Glenmorie Estate map showing the location of the discoveries.

  Only a few days went by before Gregor was on the phone. His soft Highland tones were infused with a sense of urgency when Fiona answered.

  “Mistress Campbell, I must say this discovery of the children’s has caused something of an upset here among archaeology circles.”

  “If I may interrupt for a moment? If you agree to call me Fiona, I will call you Gregor. Is that satisfactory?”

  “Why, certainly, Fiona! I apologise for the formality. It’s just been quite exciting to see older experts in Scottish antiquities poring over your photos and arguing the pros and cons of it all.”

  “Well, what was the consensus, Gregor?”

  Fiona was anxious to get to the point. She had to relate this to her husband and the children later in the day and she needed clarity.

  “Of course! All I can say for sure, at this juncture, is that a coterie of experts will descend on Glenmorie within a week if you and the Laird agree.”

  “I see. So there is a question of authenticity?”

  She meant him to detect the hint of scorn in her voice. No one should be in any doubt about the veracity of the Campbell children if their mother had anything to do with it.

  “No, no Fiona! Not at all! These people need to investigate the actual site and determine if there is more there to be revealed. They intend to bring detectorists and some minor excavation equipment with them.”

  “Just one minute, Gregor! My husband will not approve of people digging up a probable ancient and sacred site on our estate and leaving destruction behind them. He would far rather leave everything as it is than risk a desecration of that kind.”

  There was a pause during which Fiona tried to calm the anger that sprang up in defence of the land she shared, and which was the inheritance of her children.

  She heard a string of Gaelic words, sotto voce, on the other end of the line t
hen Gregor Mackintosh returned to insist everything would be done with due deference to the land itself and that she should take this expression of interest from the Scottish Antiquities community as an indicator of how important they believed her children’s discovery could be.

  Much mollified by this, Fiona tempered her tone and asked for a day or two to consult with her husband about this development.

  “Fine! Fine! There is one more item I must discuss with you at this time.”

  He cleared his throat noisily and Fiona got the sense that she was not going to like what came next.

  “I have been instructed to inform you that, with the approval of all concerned, of course, a film crew will accompany the experts in order to make a documentary of the proceedings.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ashley Stanton was in a state of exhaustion and exhilaration compounded of twenty hours of non-stop negotiation with two publishing companies and a piece of good luck in obtaining the last seat in first class on an overnight plane flying to Glasgow.

  Sleep was out of the question. She had an open laptop in front of her and several important records to update regarding the final financial settlement on the Art Book of Lawren Drake’s work.

  She fervently wished there had been time to contact Anna in London, or Edmund in Oban, about her arrival, but circumstances dictated otherwise. Every single second had been consumed by her determination to drive a hard bargain for Anna. Her great–aunt’s courage in giving permission for this most precious of hidden material to be exposed to public view, was always a burden on Ashley’s own conscience. This selfless act of Anna’s had allowed her niece to claim a place in the exclusive world of publishing.

  The personal biography about Anna and Lawren’s very private life had opened the doors to a future for Ashley and she was very much aware of the debt she owed that lady.

  Because of this sense of obligation, she had neglected the man she hoped to marry for an unconscionable length of time.

  Jeanette’s phone call had put matters into perspective that she should have been placing much higher on her priority list. She was returning to her second home in Scotland with the knowledge that she had much to make up for with Edmund.

  A thrill of excitement passed through her from head to toes at the thought of their reunion, banishing any chance of sleep. She would sleep in Edmund’s arms secure in the peace and tranquility of a quiet small town life far removed from the stress and anxiety of recent months.

  Home.

  * * *

  The arrival announcement woke her from a doze to find the sky over Glasgow misty and grey in the early morning. The last few minutes of descent into the airport were like a dream as the plane floated over the sea, the outer islands and the lowland hills. Her excitement rose when they reached the airport tarmac but she tried to temper the excitement by thinking of the hours of travel still ahead before she would see Oban again.

  The taxi ride to Central Station went by in twenty minutes allowing her time to browse the newspapers and grab a breakfast bun and orange juice from Smith’s newsagent while she waited for the train to arrive.

  She had a seat to herself in the First Class carriage and managed to eat a second breakfast, with tea from an enormous metal teapot and a delicious sausage roll such as she never saw in Canada. As she finished this feast, she realized she had not eaten a proper meal for days.

  The effect of the food, the background hum of the train wheels, and the perfect peace of the carriage lulled her into much-needed sleep and it was not until she was awakened by the arrival announcement that she knew she had actually reached her destination and was no longer dreaming.

  It was an afternoon of soft drizzling rain, such as the west coast of Scotland often provides.

  Ashley took several deep breaths and decided to walk to the cottage. She needed the exercise and with only one case on wheels to handle, she hefted her carry-on bag over her shoulder and set out.

  One glance at a clock on the station platform reminded her she was much too early to expect Edmund to be at home. She had a spare set of keys and time for a bath and unpacking before surprising him with her presence.

  Everything was working out perfectly. She no longer felt as exhausted as she had at the start of the journey. Once she was freshened up, she would begin to think about food to welcome Edmund home after his long day at the surgery.

  The key turned in the lock and the door swung inward. She was always delighted by the immediate access into the living room. It was so typical of the sparse cottage-style accommodations that reminded her of a doll house compared to the size of Canadian homes. She put her case and carry-on bag down, and they filled the entrance.

  By the time she had closed the front door behind her she knew something was very different.

  Edmund’s tiny house smelled of potpourri.

  The bowl was set on the coffee table in front of the small sofa. She looked around and realized the mantelpiece above the fireplace where Edmund usually dumped his mail, was not only tidy but polished. The cushions were plumped up and a quick glance through to the kitchen revealed the kitchen table cleared of dirty dishes and set with a tablecloth.

  A tablecloth? Edmund did not, to her knowledge, own such an item.

  What was going on in her absence?

  She rushed up the stairs to the only bedroom and was shocked to see the bed was made with hospital corners and the pillowcases were unmarked by either stray hairs or creases. There were no signs of a female presence, however, and that reassurance banished her worst fears and made her stop and think more clearly.

  Jeanette or Fiona could have sent someone to housekeep for Edmund since she had been gone for such a long time. That seemed like a logical explanation, but potpourri? Who would leave that in a bachelor’s residence?

  Her puzzled thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening from the street and the noise of female voices arguing loudly.

  Had Edmund acquired a harem of women while she was gone?

  She raced downstairs and found two women staring at her luggage blocking their way into the house.

  She barely recognized Edmund’s mother, and after a moment or two she remembered Jeanette’s mother, Jean, who she had met at the Christmas feast in the castle when she and Edmund announced their engagement.

  No strangers intruding then!

  “What on earth?”

  The same statement from both parties caused the laughter that broke the ice.

  “Where did you spring from Ashley? I don’t believe Edmund knew you were here.”

  “No, I just arrived from Canada and I didn’t expect to see you either, Christine.”

  Jean, who was quickly sensing the importance of acting as a peacemaker, spoke up in a more welcoming tone of voice.

  “Goodness, Ashley, this is a grand surprise for the doctor. Why don’t you go and unpack and we will put the kettle on for a nice cup of tea. You must be exhausted after all that travelling.”

  Ashley did as instructed and found she needed the moments alone in the bedroom to gather her wits about her.

  Edmund’s mother was here! No doubt, she was the one responsible for the potpourri and other housekeeping signs. At least there was no chance of her moving in. Three was definitely a crowd in this tiny cottage.

  Could Edmund have invited his mother to come to Oban without telling her about it?

  That was unlikely. He liked his privacy too much and his feelings about his mother were mixed at best. She had an unfortunate knack of reducing him to a little boy by her comments. One evening in her company, some time ago, had made that tendency abundantly obvious.

  Ashley took a deep breath and summoned all her positive energy. This was no time to make an enemy of Christine Jansen. The last thing her fiancé needed was to arrive home and find the two women in his life arguing over territory.

  She combed through her hair and washed her hands in the tiny basin set in a corner of the bedroom, then descended the stairs with
a smile at the ready.

  Tea cups and saucers were already set out on the kitchen table with a plate of digestive biscuits.

  “Come and sit, Ashley! How do you take your tea?”

  Jean was smiling at her in a sympathetic way, almost as if she understood how disappointing it was for Ashley to have her surprise arrival thwarted.

  “Just a little milk, thanks.”

  “Oh, I think you never had tea in my house. There wasn’t time for that, was there Ashley?”

  “No, Christine. It was a flying visit. Both Edmund and I had so much going on then, but it was good to finally meet you.”

  “So, are you here for a longer time now?”

  “I am hoping so, Jean. I am a transplant from Canada like you, I suppose. There are quite a few of us here in Oban, by my reckoning.”

  “Indeed! My Jeanette told me about your writing and the books you have brought into life for Anna Drake. It must be very difficult to achieve that. You must have missed your young doctor and he you, of course.”

  “Yes, it has been very difficult for both of us to be separated for so long, but I am hoping all is settled now and I can pick up the threads of my life here with Edmund.”

  Christine was listening avidly. She was learning about Ashley, not from her son, but from this comparative stranger. She quickly took the conversation back into her own hands.

  “Well, you should have seen the mess this place was in when Jean and I arrived; dirty clothes everywhere and nothing in the freezer! It was a disaster zone!”

  This was an overt criticism of Edmund, and of her. Ashley had to quickly rein in her natural response.

  “You two ladies have done a marvellous job. Edmund must be delighted and I am relieved not to have to roll up my sleeves before I can get a night’s sleep.”

  Ashley and Jean exchanged conspiratorial glances over Christine’s head. Ashley knew she had an accomplice to support her with this difficult and possessive woman.