by Ruth Hay
Maria laughed at this description. “I hope you are not casting aspersions on your own lovely Scotsman, Jeanette? He’s the one who made all this happen for Anna and I think he’s quite dashing, from the short time I’ve met him.”
“Funny you should say that, Maria. You had better be prepared to do some dancing tomorrow night with my husband. He’s a demon at the Dashing White Sergeant, one of the popular dances around these parts.”
“Thanks for the warning, Jeanette. I’d better take some alternative footwear with me. These heels are not meant for dancing.”
As dusk descended over the hills, the party assembled at Anna’s farmhouse. Susan, Jake and Angela greeted Maria, Lucy and Fiona and waited in the lounge while Fiona fetched Kirsty and the bride and groom from the nearby farm. Jeanette, George and Liam were the last to arrive and by then the party was in full swing.
“You’d think this lot hadn’t seen each other in ages,” suggested Fiona to Anna when she saw the way everyone welcomed each new arrival.
“Well, it’s not so much that they have been apart for so long,” explained Anna, as the two assembled the hors d’oevres that had been delivered from Fiona’s van on her last trip.
“It’s more that so much has happened in a short time to everyone. Jake and Susan have been through a traumatic experience and Lucy and Maria have accomplished a great mother daughter blending as you can see from their attitude to each other. Bev and Eric have been here with Alan and Kirsty for some months and the decisions they have made are only now coming to fruition. It’s the amount of change they have all dealt with that causes them to feel the long separation is over. And remember that not everyone here knows everyone else. There are new bonds to be formed, as happens whenever there is a marriage.”
Fiona watched and listened as Kirsty told how keen she was to ‘get these two married’ so she could retire to Skye and an easy life at last. When pressed, she said she would miss Eric the most but he should visit her often and continue their exchange of stories from two sides of the Atlantic. Eric smiled at this invitation. He knew Alan had bought a computer for his mother so all of them could keep in touch through Skype.
Fiona had to agree that it was a happy reunion for everyone. The farmhouse was overflowing with warmth and laughter but Fiona knew the reunions were not over for the night.
Anna’s brother Philip was due to arrive in an hour or so with a special passenger. He was driving from Manchester to surprise Anna and to meet her Canadian friends about whom he had heard so much. Philip’s long journey from Egypt had been kept secret from all except Jay. They had met up in Manchester after Philip had a night’s rest there.
Fiona hugged this little kernel of knowledge to herself and pictured Anna’s face when Philip arrived at the door with Bev’s son James.
Meanwhile, there was a roast beef meal to serve and champagne to pour. Fiona knew it would be a busy, joyful evening and another late night for her. Kirsty, in superstitious mode, had insisted that Bev would go to the hotel overnight so the groom would not see his bride before the ceremony. Bev could drive there later with Philip and James. That left only Lucy to be returned to Fiona’s cottage.
With Lucy’s help, she had checked that everything at the grand old Highland Hotel on the hillside was ready for the wedding, so she planned an easy morning for both of them before her chauffeuring duties would begin again. She thought with some pleasure of the bright red skirt and ruffled white blouse Anna had insisted on buying for her, along with a brown fur-collared leather coat that made her feel like a million dollars, as they said in Canada.
Bev held tight to her elder son all the way from Anna’s to the hotel in town. They had been separated for months while James completed his business studies in England and she could not believe how mature he now seemed. There was a hint of an English accent there too, although James was quick to accuse his mother of a Scottish lilt infiltrating her familiar Canadian speech.
“How did your term exams go, James?”
“Well, I don’t have the results yet but I feel pretty confident. I was able to use my work with A Plus as a case study and I had all the details on my laptop, so that was easy.”
“Have you heard from that nice girl Caroline?”
“Now don’t go fishing for information, Mom! We are just friends but we text once in a while.
She’s at the London School of Economics. She says she might do Social Services work when she qualifies but I think she’s a born politician.”
“Really! That’s interesting! I would think that line of work demands many years of apprenticing to political parties.”
“I suppose so. Remember the project she did in college with her great-gran’s nursing home?
The way she rallied the forces to accomplish that work says to me she is able to influence people and that is the foundation of political life, I think.”
Philip interjected from the driver’s seat as conversation from his passengers lapsed for a moment. “I’d say you have persuasive talents yourself, young man, if our talks on the way here from Manchester are anything to go by.”
“What do you mean, Philip?” enquired Bev.
“Just that James has talked Anna and Alina into a new venture for their company. Isn’t it called something like New Again?”
“The final decision on the name was Renew Again.” James turned to his mother to explain.
“You know how people find a sweater or even a knitted dress or something that fits perfectly and you wear it so often that the thing eventually falls apart?”
As James spoke, Bev remembered a story of Maria’s about a replacement sweater she had once found for Anna’s husband, to win a bet. “I know what you mean, James! I have a few old things I’m clinging on to in the hopes of finding another of the same type, but that never happens.”
“Yes! That’s it! So the idea I had was that customers could send in photos and measurements of the original garments and the A Plus knitters could make a brand new version of it for them. It’s been very popular already and Alina’s heading up the new department from Canada.”
“That’s an excellent idea, James. Well done!”
The mention of Alina’s name reminded Bev of a quiet moment she had shared with Anna shortly after her arrival at the farmhouse. She had asked why Alina had not come with Anna as their plan was that all the Sambas would be able to attend her wedding.
Anna had tearfully confessed the secret about Alina’s fading eyesight and now Bev wondered what the repercussions of this development would mean to the company the two women had worked so hard to establish.
They had reached Oban now and the car engine was changing gear as it climbed the winding road up towards McCaig’s Folly, passing fine Victorian mansions, some of which had signs declaring their B&B services.
Bev watched for the smaller house with the spectacular view over the bay, that Jeanette and George had bought, and noticed new paint on the front porch.
The party was welcomed into the hotel and soon shown to their respective rooms for the night. James carried his mother’s wedding gown in a clothing bag and also her overnight case and the honeymoon luggage. As he set these down in the room and examined an enormous vase of fragrant stargazer lilies contributed by the hotel staff, Bev asked him to stay for a minute.
“I didn’t want to ask you this in the car, James, it’s too personal.” James settled down on the side of the double bed and waited for his mother’s question.
“Are you happy with my decision to marry Alan?”
“You know I think he’s a great guy, Mom. Why are you asking now?”
“It’s just that you have more memories of your father than Eric does and I need to be sure you feel I haven’t jumped too fast into this relationship, with all the changes it means for all of us.”
“It seems to me that changes come anyway, Mom. I had already moved to the UK for much of my time and Eric loves it here. He has really claimed Kirsty as a grandmother and he’s doing well at s
chool, or so he tells me.”
Bev paused. James was not answering the main question about Alan and she began to be apprehensive.
James could read his mother’s face as easily as she could read his.
“Look, Mom! I am very pleased for you. I have never seen you so happy and if Alan Matthews is the cause of that, I could never complain about it.”
Bev knew her elder son well and was not satisfied with this explanation.
“What is it you’re not telling me James?”
“Really, it’s nothing major. I wonder sometimes what it is you are taking on with the farm animals and Alan’s life outside in all weathers. It’s so different from all you have known before and, honestly, I want an easier life for you after the years you spent devoted to Eric and me. You deserve an easier life now. That’s all it is and I didn’t mean to say any of this at all.”
James jumped up and caught his mother in an embrace to hide the emotions he was feeling at this disclosure. The last thing he wanted was to cast any blight on this special occasion for his mother. Over her shoulder he proclaimed, “Now don’t worry! None of this will come out in my speech tomorrow, Mom. It’s all good, believe me!”
Bev was too choked up to answer. She patted James’ shoulders instead. She knew she had been blessed with two wonderful sons but, at this moment, she understood how much like his strong, responsible and caring father, James had become.
Gathering herself together with some difficulty, Bev stated, “Don’t worry about me, James. Alan and I have plans for the future. Now off you go to bed, my dear one, or you will not be fit to steer me down the aisle tomorrow. Sleep well, James. I love you.”
James made a quick exit before he embarrassed himself with tears. As he made his way down the hall he made a vow to hold back his emotions at the ceremony. This was clearly going to be difficult for him to do, but he resolved to represent his family in the best possible way, no matter what it might cost him.
Chapter Eighteen
Saturday morning displayed a cloud-streaked blue sky. Fiona, who had been up early enough to see the dawn, informed Lucy that the weather would clear by the afternoon and the wedding at five o’clock would take place in the last rays of the sunset. With this confident assertion, she reached for the teapot and poured herself another large mug of tea.
Lucy was surprised to note that Fiona had come downstairs to the kitchen wearing a thick brown robe tied around her middle that looked as much like a bearskin as Lucy had ever seen. This casual wear made Fiona seem much more approachable, so Lucy settled back in her chair and prepared to get answers to a number of questions she had been storing up. Everyone was so busy talking to each other last night at Anna’s place that she had no time to ask trivial questions.
“So you are not working this morning, Fiona?” she began.
“Well, no school run of course, but I do have to spend an hour or two with the vet later.”
“Good! I wanted to ask you about the cat I saw. She disappeared during dinner but I wondered if she had anything to do with the wildcat I had heard stories about.”
Fiona laughed. “You mean Sylvester! If you had seen him you would know the difference in a second. Anna and I visited him in his new home a couple of months ago and he is huge. The keepers say he is even bigger than the usual Scottish wild cat and they put it down to the exceptional care he received as a kitten. He still knows our voices and comes up to us, purring madly.”
“That was quite some story about his mother being killed and you taking over. I’m sorry I missed seeing him. So Morag is a new cat?”
“Sure now! Kirsty found her in her barn, trying to get milk from the cows. She ignored her for a while but the wee thing was always around so she knew she had been abandoned. Farm country folk are not always sympathetic to stray animals but Morag was a sweet wee one. Anna wanted her because she had a bit of Sylvester’s colouring, and I look after her when Anna is in Canada.”
“That’s kind of you. I always wanted a pet, myself, but my parents were too busy to take on the responsibility.”
“I imagine you could look after an animal by yourself, Lucy,” suggested Fiona with some surprise. “If you want something bad enough there’s always a way to make it happen.”
She stopped to sip her tea and added, “By the way, I asked your Mum to let me see your paintings last night. They had been left in the back of the van the other night and I thought they might be safer indoors. She said I could take a peek.”
Lucy was astounded that her mother had agreed to this without mentioning it to her but curiosity about Fiona’s opinion soon overtook her annoyance. “What did you think about them?”
“I thought they were remarkably well done. You should do more work and develop your own style, Lucy. Your mother is very proud of you, you know. I hope you understand how lucky you are.”
Before Lucy could summon a response to this, Fiona stood, rinsed her cup in the sink and announced she was heading for a bath. “There should be enough hot water for the both of us. I won’t fill the bath just in case we run out.”
Lucy was left alone to think about Fiona’s comments. This young woman, living an independent and productive life had good advice to give. Lucy was beginning to think someone had intended to put the two of them together and she was beginning to understand why.
Kirsty was looking out of her bedroom window and thinking that this view that had been familiar to her through the seasons for fifty years would, after today, be supplanted by a far different view from the windows of her room in Skye. After the wedding celebrations she would leave with family members to settle into her new home. She was looking forward to the sights and smells of the sea that she had loved as a child, but she was also leaving behind a lifetime of memories in this place.
There was her life with her dear husband, Malcolm, and their early days establishing a viable farm with baby Alan slung on the back of either one of them. It was no wonder Alan had taken to the farm work when he had absorbed the smells and sounds from such an early age.
Those were hard but happy times and the memories made her smile.
She preferred to forget the shock of finding her husband lying in the cowshed, dead from a massive stroke, and the time it had taken her to get back into life again. ‘Life is for the living’, they always said, and the years after Malcolm’s death had been satisfying, with Alan to look after and the animals to care for.
The only regret she had had about getting old was that Alan would be left alone one day. The thought of him at the farm on his own was one that had worried her in the midnight hours.
His life on the hills in all weathers had always made contact with women difficult, but now, fate had brought him a wife in such an unexpected way.
Kirsty sighed happily as she thought of Bev. Such a fine woman with two lovely boys who were a credit to her style of mothering, and Bev was a good friend of Anna’s to boot. Kirsty’s connection to Anna had deepened from the first moment they met during the swine flu crisis, and whenever Anna or her friend Alina were in Scotland, they made sure to visit with Kirsty.
It was an invitation to tea at Anna’s estate house that had first introduced Kirsty and Alan to Bev and Eric.
Kirsty was so glad to have Eric in her life now. The grandchild she had never thought to have, was an important part of her thoughts for the future. There was much she wanted to pass on to him and, (thanks be to God!), the boy was not only interested in her old stories but he had settled down in Oban and seemed to be thriving at high school. His expertise with the modern phones and computers and that internet thingy, as she called it, had made him instantly popular with teachers and students.
And today, it was all coming together as new lives began for all of them. Kirsty reached down and closed the window. It would be a fine November day for the wedding. Crisp and cold, for sure, but bright, to welcome the family from Skye and the Canadians who were now family also.
She was pleased the Canadians would see Oban in a
ll its splendour from the hotel’s viewpoint, and delighted that they would experience a traditional ceilidh that she knew would tell them more about Alan and his people than any amount of talking and explaining could ever do.
A great day to look forward to, she decided, and turned with a happy sigh to make her preparations.
From noon onwards, the Highland Hotel had been humming with activity. Manageress, Catriona McTavish, a distant relative of Kirsty’s family, already knew she would be overrun with the Skye folk who had arrived in local B&Bs or were staying with other nearby family.
The fact they were not in the hotel itself was no barrier to their constant interruptions, disguised as polite inquiries as to “whether they could help out a wee bittie with anything at all, at all?”
Catriona had assigned the younger members to helping the florist set out the arrangements of carnations and ferns in the ballroom where the ceremony was to be held. She insisted on keeping control over the seating in the centre area and the decoration of the bridal arch where the couple would take their vows. The caterer would supervise the round tables for eight where the meal would be served and an experienced crew of hotel staff would whip away the guest chairs after the ceremony and replace them at the tables. This would leave a substantial area cleared for the essentials: the band, the bar and the dancing.
Catriona had checked on progress in the kitchens and all was well there in the capable hands of John, the head chef. She still had worries, however, regarding the unknown number of people who might descend on the hotel for the event. Skye folk had been arriving by ferry for two days now and she was afraid they would overwhelm the entire enterprise. She had had a quiet word with John about this and extra supplies were on hand in the kitchen to meet whatever eventualities should occur.