The last thing I needed was to be caught behind the metaphorical bike sheds encouraging the Laird’s daughter to smoke. But I liked this girl, so I said yes, and we slipped out of the front door. Zara promptly burrowed in her hoodie pocket for a battered rollie and lighter and lit up. I noticed the heavy silver rings on her fingers and the black nail polish, which reminded me of my sister CeCe at Zara’s age.
‘Dad said I should talk to you whilst I’m up here and find out what you did at Margaret’s sanctuary,’ she said, blowing out a stream of smoke into the freezing air. ‘Are you named after the hedgehog in the Beatrix Potter stories?’ she continued before I’d had a chance to reply.
‘That’s where my nickname comes from, yes. Apparently my hair stood up in spikes like a hedgehog when I was a baby. My real name’s Taygete.’
‘That’s unusual. Where’s it from?’
‘My sisters and I are all named after the Seven Sisters star cluster. Look.’ I pointed up to the perfectly clear night sky. ‘There they are, just above those three stars all in a line that look like an arrow. That’s called Orion’s Belt. Legend has it that Orion chased the sisters across the skies. Can you see them?’
‘I can!’ Zara said with childlike excitement. ‘They’re tiny, but if I look really closely I can see them all twinkling. I’ve always been interested in the stars, but they don’t really teach that kind of stuff at school, do they? So, did you enjoy your zoology degree? If I’m forced to go to uni, I want to do something like that.’
‘I did, and I’m happy to tell you about it, but don’t you think we should be getting back inside? Your parents might be looking for you.’
‘No, they won’t be. They’ve had a massive argument. Mum is refusing to come down and Dad’s trying to persuade her. As usual.’ Zara rolled her eyes. ‘She gets hysterical, you see, if Dad doesn’t agree with her, then he has to spend ages pleading with her to calm down.’
From what I’d seen of Zara’s father so far, I found it hard to equate such a scene with a man who’d seemed so in command of his environment. But it wasn’t my place to probe further, so I proceeded to tell Zara as much as I could about my degree, then my work at Margaret’s sanctuary, and her eyes shone in the moonlight.
‘Wow, that sounds amazing! Now that Dad’s finally in charge, I’ve told him that he should put aside a few acres to open an animal sanctuary like Margaret’s. And maybe a petting zoo too, which would mean local parents could bring their little ones, and encourage them to enjoy the estate.’
‘That’s a great idea, Zara. What did he say?’
‘That there’s no money at the moment to do anything,’ Zara sighed. ‘I told him I’d leave school and come up here full-time to help him, but he just went on about me finishing school then going to uni. Margaret didn’t have a degree, did she? All you need is a love for animals.’
‘True, but a degree does help you get onto a career path, Zara.’
‘I have a career path!’ The blue eyes blazed with passion as she opened her arms as if to embrace the estate. ‘I’m intending to spend the rest of my life up here. Did you know you wanted to work with animals when you were my age?’
‘Yes.’
‘Animals are so much better than humans, aren’t they?’
‘Some humans, yes, but then, one of the wildcats – Polson – is a real prima donna. I honestly don’t think I’d like him much if he was human.’
‘Sounds like my mum . . .’ Zara giggled. ‘C’mon, I suppose we’d better get back inside and see if my ’rents have managed to make it downstairs yet.’
As we walked back to the Lodge, I thought how Zara was the epitome of a teenager: stuck uncomfortably between child and womanhood.
The entrance hall was now crowded and I watched as Zara simultaneously waved and blew kisses to various faithful retainers in the crowd, who, judging by their age, had undoubtedly known her since a tiny baby. She was their ‘princess’ after all – the future heiress to the Kinnaird estate. Part of me couldn’t help being envious that one day all this beauty would pass to her, but at least she displayed a genuine passion for Kinnaird.
My musing was interrupted by the arrival beside us of a petite woman with wary blue eyes, and a mane of bright red hair.
‘Zara, will you no’ introduce us?’ the woman asked.
Zara turned to kiss the woman on both cheeks. ‘Caitlin! How lovely to see you. Tiggy, this is Caitlin, Cal’s better half. Caitlin, this is Tiggy, she’s come to work on the estate for a few months.’
‘Aye, Cal’s told me about you. So, how are you getting on in the cottage with him? It’s nae the most comfortable place to rest your head, is it?’
‘Oh, it’s fine really, and your Cal’s made me feel really welcome. The cottage is looking a lot better than it did, I’ve made a real effort to make it cosy for the two of us . . .’
Tiggy, just shut up! I told myself, as I saw the look on Caitlin’s face.
Zara came to my rescue and started to ask Caitlin about her job at the building society, then a few seconds later we were joined by Cal himself, a dram of whisky in each hand, accompanied by a slim attractive woman who I guessed was in her early forties. I could see how uncomfortable he was at the sight of his fiancée and housemate standing together.
‘I see you two’ve met already. I was, er, planning tae get the pair o’ you together earlier but I couldn’t find Tiggy.’ He smiled affectionately at Caitlin, throwing his brawny arm around her delicate shoulders, the whisky sloshing perilously in his hands as he did so.
‘Yes, we’ve met.’ Caitlin returned his smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
‘Aye, anyway,’ he continued, clearly wanting to move the conversation along. ‘I just brought Fiona here over to introduce her tae Tiggy. Tiggy, this is our local vet, Fiona McDougal. You said you’d be needin’ someone to look over the cats an’ this is your woman.’
‘Hi, Tiggy, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’ Fiona’s voice was soft and warm, with a refined Scottish accent.
‘Likewise,’ I replied, grateful for the diversion from Caitlin.
Before anyone could say anything further, we were interrupted by a sudden flash of colour on the staircase above us. Like the rest of the occupants of the hall, we looked up. Applause broke out as the woman I’d seen at the wildcat enclosure earlier – now wearing a skin-tight red dress with a tartan sash pinned across her shoulder – walked down the stairs on the arm of her husband, Charlie Kinnaird. Now, rather than the hospital scrubs I had last seen him in, he was wearing a dinner jacket, bow tie and kilt, the very image of the centuries of lairds that graced the paintings in the Lodge.
As they turned the corner on the dog-leg stairs to descend the final few steps, I drew in a breath. Not because of her, even though she looked stunning, but because of him. I blushed with embarrassment as I experienced the same sharp dig in my lower gut that I’d felt the last time I’d met him.
Husband and wife paused halfway down the stairs and I watched as the woman waved at the crowd below her, as if she’d been taking lessons from the elderly British sovereign. Charlie stood next to her, the set of his shoulders betraying that inner tension I’d noticed at the interview. Despite the smile pasted onto his lips, I knew he was uncomfortable.
‘Ladies and gentlemen.’ Charlie raised a hand for silence. ‘First of all I’d like to welcome you to our annual Christmas Eve gathering. This is the first that I’ve hosted, even though I’ve attended every single one of them for the past thirty-seven years. As you all know, my father Angus died suddenly in his sleep last February and before I say anything else, I wish you to raise the drams of whisky that Beryl has kindly been handing out and make a toast to him.’ Charlie took a glass from Beryl’s proffered tray and lifted it to his lips. ‘To Angus.’
‘Tae Angus,’ chorused the room.
‘I’d also like to say thank you to each one of you for helping to steer the estate over the years. Many of you already know that despite the month
s of uncertainty following my father’s death, I have a vision for the future, to bring the Kinnaird estate into the twenty-first century, yet at the same time do my best to restore it to its former natural glory. It’s a hard task, but I know that with support from the local community I can do it.’
‘Aye, that yae will,’ shouted the man next to me as he took a hip flask out of his jacket pocket, opened it and took a deep slurp.
‘And lastly, I’d like to thank my wife, Ulrika, for standing by me during this difficult year. Without her support, I couldn’t have done it. To you, darling.’
Everyone raised a glass again although they were all empty, so Charlie hurried on.
‘And of course, my daughter Zara. Zara?’ He looked around the room and so did I, but she’d vanished. ‘Well, we all know of old how she likes to disappear at inopportune moments.’
There was a general murmur of amusement at the Laird’s comment.
‘So, all that remains to be said now is Merry Christmas to each and every one of you.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ we all chorused back.
‘Now please, top up your glasses, and we’ll be rolling back the carpets ready for the ceilidh in a few minutes’ time.’
‘Well, wasn’t that a rousing speech?’ said Cal, before grabbing Caitlin’s hand in his bear-like paw and muttering something about the two of them fetching more drinks.
‘He’s a good man, that one,’ Fiona said as Cal pulled Caitlin away. ‘So, how are you getting on here?’ She turned her full attention to me, and I was struck by the intelligent gaze in her lovely green eyes.
‘I’m adjusting to it,’ I said. ‘It’s so beautiful that I sometimes feel as though I could lose myself in it. I’m finding it strange to be with so many people this evening, after the last three weeks of isolation.’
‘I know what you mean. I experienced something similar when I first moved here from Edinburgh.’
‘Oh, what brought you from the big city to the Highlands, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘I fell in love with a local man,’ she replied simply. ‘I’d almost completed my veterinary training at Edinburgh University and was doing some work experience at the local practice near Kinnaird when I met Hamish. He farmed a small croft nearby. After I’d finished my degree, I was offered a job with a big practice in Edinburgh, but my heart won and I married Hamish and moved here. I joined the local practice, then took over when Ian, my partner, retired a couple of years ago.’
‘Right. Are you kept busy?’
‘Very, though it’s a different kind of patient I treat up here. Few domestic pets like I’d have had in Edinburgh, and endless sheep and cows.’
‘Do you enjoy it?’
‘Oh, I love it, although getting a call-out at three in the morning to help a struggling pregnant heifer in a foot of snow can be a challenge,’ she chuckled.
A tall, broad-shouldered blond youth appeared beside her.
‘Hello, Mum, I was wondering where you’d got to.’ His clear grey-green eyes – so like Fiona’s that anyone could see he was her son – shone under the lights.
‘Hello, Lochie,’ said Fiona with a warm smile. ‘This is Tiggy, the lass who’s looking after the new wildcats on the estate.’
‘Pleasure tae meet you, Tiggy.’ Lochie extended his hand to me, then, as Zara rejoined us, I saw him blush scarlet.
‘Hi, Lochie,’ Zara said. ‘Haven’t seen you for ages. Where’ve you been hiding?’
‘Hi, Zara.’ His blush deepened. ‘I’ve been at college in Dornoch.’
‘Right. What are you doing now?’
‘Looking for a job as an apprentice. There’s not much around, so I’ve been helping my dad on our croft.’
‘I’ve told him he should catch Cal tonight and ask him if there’s anything going here at Kinnaird,’ Fiona added pointedly.
‘Cal’s desperate for help,’ I butted in.
‘But Dad doesn’t have any money,’ Zara sighed.
‘I’d work for nothing, just for the experience,’ Lochie said and I felt his desperation.
‘Maybe not nothing, Lochie,’ his mother interjected.
‘Well, put in a word for me, won’t you, Zara?’
‘Course I will. Fancy grabbing me a drink?’ she asked him.
‘Blimey, he’s grown up!’ Zara whispered to me as Lochie nodded eagerly and wandered off towards the laden table at the back of the hall. ‘He used to be short and fat and covered in acne! I think I should go and give him a hand.’
‘You do that,’ I said to her departing back.
‘Teenagers, eh?’ Fiona rolled her eyes at me and we both chuckled.
Cal returned bearing yet more glasses of whisky, but I refused mine, feeling suddenly light-headed. I noticed Charlie and Ulrika glad-handing the guests and drawing ever closer to us. ‘Actually, I’m feeling a bit queasy. It must be the alcohol. I think I’m going to disappear off home.’
‘But, Tig, you have tae stay for the ceilidh. It’s the big moment of the year! And I know Charlie wants tae say hello.’
‘He’s got a lot of people to see and I’m sure there’ll be another chance for us to talk over Christmas. You stay here, Cal, and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you at home. Fiona, it was lovely to meet you.’
‘You too, Tiggy, and let me know when you want me to visit your cats. Cal’s got my number.’
‘I will, thanks, Fiona.’ I turned away before Cal could stop me then stepped outside to see a heavy fog had descended, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree on the lawn shrouded by the cobweb-like mist that swirled around it. Another flicker of light appeared a few metres from the tree and I realised someone close by was smoking a cigarette.
‘Merry Christmas,’ I said as I passed the figure.
‘And you. Er . . .’ The figure walked towards me and as he emerged from the fog I saw he was very tall, but in the darkness I couldn’t make out much else about him.
‘Nice party?’ he asked me, his voice betraying a hint of an accent that I couldn’t place.
‘Very nice, yes.’
‘Is Char— the Laird in attendance?’
‘Yes. He’s hosting the party with his wife. Haven’t you been in yet?’
‘No.’
‘Is that you, Tiggy?’ A torch beam shone in our direction. ‘I’ve been hunting high and low for you inside.’
Charlie Kinnaird walked towards me, then halted abruptly as he angled his torch on my companion.
The seconds ticked by before he said, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come home to visit my old mum for Christmas. Thought I’d surprise her. No law against that, is there?’
Charlie opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. The antipathy emanating from him was palpable.
‘Well then,’ I said with all the false cheer I could muster, ‘I’ll say goodnight. Merry Christmas,’ I added as I turned tail and walked as quickly as I could towards the cottage. I could hear the two men talking . . . or in fact growling at each other as I opened the door. Charlie’s normally soft tones were edged with a harshness that spoke of . . .
What, Tiggy?
‘Hatred,’ I whispered with a shudder.
I closed the door to block out the sound of the raised voices and what was obviously a developing altercation. The cottage was freezing because the fire had almost died and the storage heaters had gone off. I rekindled the fire and huddled in front of it, suddenly feeling very alone, and realising afresh that it was the first Christmas I’d ever spent away from Atlantis, my sisters and Pa.
I took my mobile off charge and, still in my ski jacket, walked into the bathroom to see if the phone fairies with their meagre two bars of signal were visiting. They were, and I was able to read various messages from my sisters, and retrieve a voicemail from Ma, which made me feel much better.
I tapped some letters into the phone.
May the grace and joy of the Christmas spirit be with you darling, love Tiggy . . .
I s
ent the same text off five times to all my sisters, and left a voicemail in return for Ma. Then, as I sat in front of the fire with Alice on my knee for company, I heard the chapel bell across the glen herald the arrival of Christmas Day.
I heard a whine at the door, and stood up to let Thistle in, knowing Cal wouldn’t be home for hours. He bounded in happily and proceeded to try to climb onto my knee as I curled up in front of the fire.
‘Thistle,’ I said as I was swamped in smelly grey fur, ‘you’re just too big.’
Still, I was glad of his warmth and company.
‘Two lonely creatures together. Merry Christmas, darling,’ I whispered as I stroked his soft ears then kissed them. ‘And to you, Pa, wherever you are.’
5
I woke up on Christmas morning feeling far more cheerful. There had been a further snowfall overnight and the first hint of a pink dawn on the horizon promised a spectacular sunrise.
I’d heard Cal and Caitlin arrive back at three in the morning. Not wanting to disturb them, after wrapping myself up warmly, I tiptoed out of the cottage and made my way to feed the cats. Although it was supposedly a holiday for humans, nature did not pause for an arbitrary date on the calendar. As I reached the top of the slope, I made out a tall figure down by the enclosure, dressed in a Barbour jacket and woolly hat, collar turned up against the cold. My heart beat just a little faster as I realised it was Charlie Kinnaird.
‘Merry Christmas,’ I called to him softly as I approached.
He turned to me, startled. ‘Tiggy! I didn’t hear you, you’re so light on your feet. Merry Christmas to you too,’ he added with a smile.
Up close, I could see dark smudges under his blue eyes, and the shadow of a beard beneath his sharp cheekbones.
‘I came down to see the cats, but then I realised I don’t know the combination to get in,’ he continued.
‘It’s four sevens, for future reference,’ I said. ‘I really don’t want to be negative, but the cats rarely come out, even for me. They’ll already have smelt your new scent and you might have to come a few times before they’ll deign to appear.’
The Moon Sister Page 6