by Ruth Hay
Auld Acquaintance
Ruth Hay
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Afterword
Also by Ruth Hay
About This Book
Auld Acquaintance by Ruth Hay is the story of a woman in her 60s who has lost her confidence through life events, including a divorce. Anna has a part-time job in a library, and a group of good friends, but she is sinking into a depression.
* * *
Unexpectedly, she receives a legal letter informing her that she has inherited a piece of property in Scotland. Her first instinct is to ignore this letter as she has no knowledge of the person named as the owner.
* * *
Anna's friends persuade her to travel to Scotland and stay until she can decide how to dispose of the farm house near Oban. So begins an adventure which opens up prospects for Anna and introduces her to a new environment and new people who help her.
* * *
Will Anna adjust to living in a farm house with the minimum of amenities? Will she solve the family mystery of the unknown relative who has bestowed this legacy on her? Will she leave Canada for Scotland or return to her homeland and her safe life there?
Chapter One
The letter that was to change Anna’s life lay buried in the pile of yesterday’s bills and flyers on the hall table.
Anna was running late. She grabbed her bag, checking the contents while she donned her coat: flat shoes for the miles she would cover while tracking books; keys, wallet, Ziploc bag with peanuts and raisins for a snack; brush to fluff up her hair after the wool hat came off in the staff room. Yes, all present and correct.
A chuckle escaped her lips as she closed the door behind her, narrowly avoiding trapping her winter coat in the door frame. ‘All present and correct’ was one of her father’s favourite sayings. He had passed away twenty years ago, but Anna thought, not for the first time, how the time-worn phrases of her parents lived on through her unconscious repetition of them.
Bitter January cold startled Anna as she picked her way through ice and snow towards her Toyota. No point in rushing now and breaking a leg. ‘Better a moment at the curb than a month in hospital’, as her mother used to say. As a teen, Anna would sigh in disbelief when her parents came out with one of these antique sayings. Years later she found out they were handed on from her grandmother in Scotland. Since Anna had never seen either her grandmother or Scotland, she was left with the distinct impression that both were somewhat outdated.
Sweeping the piled snow from the driver’s window, Anna carefully opened the door far enough to let her sit inside and start the engine without flooding the interior of the car with snow that would melt uncomfortably during the drive downtown.
With the car windows cleared, she negotiated her way from the apartment building’s parking lot, through the subdivision side streets, to join the inevitable, post-snowfall traffic crawl.
* * *
Nothing I can do about this now. I really must buy a cell phone, at least I could call ahead and warn Andrew I’ll be late.
Anna knew she was a bit of a technophobe and coping with a cell phone might be difficult, but, in fact, there were few people in her life now who she needed to contact. Simon lived out west with his wife, two grown children and grandkids. She was only rarely a part of their busy lives. Still, a single woman, living alone, travelling around, should probably carry a phone as a safety precaution. Everyone seemed to have one. As she surveyed the lines of cars crawling toward a distant red light, Anna could see several people chatting or texting happily.
The Toyota was warming up nicely now after its icy night outdoors. Thank heaven for small mercies, she thought, and instantly she was standing in her mother’s kitchen as she delivered these hurtful words to a daughter who had just confessed that her marriage of thirty years was about to end.
“What on earth do you mean by that Mother?” Anna had gasped, her heart still thumping from having to make the dreaded confession.
“Well, dear, I have always been thankful that you and that man never had any children.
I can’t say I’m sorry to hear about your divorce. You know how I feel about Richard.
I’m only sorry it took you so long to realise that I was right about him all along.”
A shiver went through Anna that had nothing to do with the weather outside the car.
What was wrong with her today? Normally she could avoid thinking about the past.
She usually tried to concentrate on positive events rather than the failures she had accumulated in almost six decades of living.
Enough of this. Anna gave herself a mental shake and began to tally a checklist of the good stuff in her life. Yes, she lived in a small apartment since the divorce, but she was saving for a deposit on a darling little house on the outskirts of town where she could have a garden with the cats and dogs she had always loved.
Her job at the library was part-time, but she had a government pension that covered the basics and a small inheritance from her parents that she had never touched.
She was independent and needed no one’s permission to do anything or go anywhere.
She could watch television or read all night and snack on chocolate chip cookies to her heart’s content if she so desired. She had a posse of girlfriends to call upon for dinners out with gossip for dessert, or movie nights followed by intensive analysis of the film over coffee and donuts.
All in all not such a bad life compared to a lot of other people these days.
At last Anna reached the front of the line of traffic and surged ahead as soon as the lights turned green.
Green for go. Forward thinking. The future, not the past.
It sounded like a useful mantra so she repeated it all the way to work.
* * *
It had been an endless day. One of those days when everything was just a bit out of balance and the unexpected cropped up with more than the usual regularity.
Arriving late was a bad start and finding out that three of the office staff had called, either sick or snowed in, did not help. At least Andrew was relieved to see Anna. He just managed to restrain himself from pushing her forcibly toward the front desk, although he was delivering instructions at top speed before she could get her coat off.
The line of patrons waiting to check out books or ask research questions, was already
snaking through the reception area. As she scanned books with a facility born of many hours at this task, Anna estimated that all these library users must have walked through the snow from downtown homes and were stocking up with more than the typical number of items to see them through a possibly serious snow storm.
Thank goodness Maya was available to help. They quickly divided those needing research help from the checkout line and Maya firmly steered her group towards the bank of computers. The student Pages who were of great help with computer skills would not be appearing until after high school finished for the day, so Maya would have to do her best on her own for now.
Anna glanced over the entire library area from the slightly elevated platform behind the main desk. Experience had taught her that problems were
better prevented than cured.
A quick survey of the stacks, tables and seating, showed her that Old Jasper and his buddy Sam were drying off their sodden clothes near the heating vent. They were no trouble and Anna always felt they deserved a little comfort after spending the night in some doorway.
She knew Jasper would never go to the shelter in a nearby church.
“They steal stuff when you’re asleep!” he had confided to Anna more than once.
She would have to keep an eye on the two old men as they would give out rather pungent aromas once their clothing warmed up. The public were known to complain about such inconveniences.
A slight sound caught Anna’s attention in another direction. Moving quietly toward the sound she soon identified the source. There were three young lads hunched over a computer in a far corner giggling and nudging each other. Anna guessed they were skipping school and looking at something inappropriate. The library’s programs had various protective devices to prevent pornographic sites from being accessed, but kids today had skills to circumvent almost any restriction.
Anna made sure the teens saw her approaching and judged they would scatter before she was close enough to see what was causing such mirth. It took only a moment to switch the computer to more useful purposes.
There was always demand for programs linking library users with government employment web sites these days. Andrew always asserted that a public library was the first line of defence for society in a recession, and because of that he could assure both his permanent and part-time staff, they would not be subjected to the layoffs that were inevitable in other service industries.
Anna was reassured by this thought. Working in the library was something essential to her wellbeing. It gave shape and purpose to her days and knowing she was needed there was far more valuable than the small salary she earned. On days when she was not working, she would think about book displays and catch up with periodical reading so that she could advise patrons where to look for material they were seeking.
It constantly amazed Anna how fast the day went when she was at work. Whichever shift she was required to fill, the time just flew by. There was always something to do to keep the backlog of materials from overwhelming the staff, and on some days the phone would ring incessantly as if there was a conspiracy to prevent any books or videos from being returned to their respective shelves. On those days, Anna had a habit of scattering returned materials on a large table with a sign issuing the challenge: ‘What’s on the Minds of Londoners this Week?’
It was surprising how many people came up with a response and happily accepted a bookmark prize. Even Andrew had to admit the unconventional method usually worked.
After an hour or so the table was cleared and the materials signed out to new borrowers.
Amongst themselves the staff called it, ‘The Anna Factor’.
Anna always laughed silently when she heard the phrase. She often wondered, on sleepless nights, how she could be so creative in her professional life and so helpless in her personal life. When it came to her marriage to Richard, all the confidence and independence of her teaching career had vanished in tears and heartache whenever he turned that cold, disapproving glare in her direction.
One glance, and she knew that no matter what she said or did to appease him, she would remain frozen out of his love until days of silence had passed. The thaw would eventually occur, but the worst of it was that Anna could never figure out what prompted the melt so that she could shorten the lonely period. After years of this conditioning, she was just so grateful Richard had decided to restore his affection, that she smiled and said nothing about what his cruel treatment had cost her.
After the divorce, Anna had developed enough distance from the pain to recognise the emotional blackmail Richard was employing, perhaps unconsciously. She had read enough to see herself in the role of eternal pursuer while her husband retreated from her needy behaviour. This insight came too late.
The failure of her marriage was a secret shame she carried deep inside.
Her only consolation was that no one else knew how badly she felt and how it had affected her relationships with men. Even her Samba group of friends were unaware of the true depth of her despair. She put much effort into concealing that fact.
Susan, (Samba’s ‘S’), would, from time to time, set up a date for Anna.
Susan had the best of intentions but Anna had such fear of rejection that she would inevitably jeopardize the slightest chance of a connection to the man, with her nervous mannerisms and solemn disdain.
Before the ‘Hi, how are you?’ and the ‘So what do you do?’ were over, she would have retreated behind her defensive barriers and the poor guy would flee.
Anna would report back to Susan, “He was a very nice man, but they just didn’t hit it off for some reason.”
Susan never presented to Anna the nice man’s version of events, but there was no second date. To Anna’s profound relief, Susan would not make another matchmaking attempt for months.
Being single was a much safer option. Anna’s post-divorce reading sources had advised her to create an impervious ring of protection around her heart. This would, supposedly, give her confidence that no one could breach the barrier without her specific permission. Her heart would remain immune from emotional attacks.
Anna thought this was a fine idea in theory, but in spite of several tries at forging this mythical barrier, she would find herself just as vulnerable and unprepared to move ahead as she had been since Richard’s departure.
In her most honest moments, Anna knew this lack of confidence was holding her back from living fully. It was one thing to realise this intellectually, of course, but it was quite
a different thing to act on the knowledge and risk more failure in her relationships.
When the depression of this realization hit, Anna had two choices.
One was to work all the harder and find oblivion in the immediacy of daily tasks.
She would approach Andrew and ask if she could volunteer her time to sort out some backroom mess or other, and often he was only too glad to get the extra help.
The other choice was to call on her oldest and best friend, Alina.
Their friendship went all the way back to childhood and no one knew Anna as well as Alina did. They had been there for each other through the good and bad times.
Many tears had been shed on each other’s shoulders over the years and the sad secrets of their hearts and lives were shared, and lessened, in the sharing.
Only Alina knew the strong, independent young woman Anna had been before Richard.
Only Anna knew of the teenage rape attempt that had thrown her bright, pretty friend into a tailspin for years and resulted in a life choice devoid of male companionship.
Each was damaged emotionally, and sometimes Anna feared they were each incapable of providing the help the other needed to get out of the pain rut.
And yet, there was deep comfort in knowing no words were necessary to explain their feelings in the bad times. Often, they would talk quietly and then sit in silence together and that was enough to heal the misery for another while.
As years went by, the sharp pains had faded into the background of their lives. The bitter residue still lingered, however, and Anna wondered what it would take to restore her confidence again.
* * *
By six thirty Anna was heading home from work. The pristine snow of the morning had turned to dismal grey but the roads had been plowed and the traffic was moving smoothly again.
It had been a busy day downtown despite the snowfall. It seemed as if everyone wanted to get shopping done in anticipation of more snow. Surprisingly this anxiety of preparation extended to reading matter also. The library had been thronged with students seeking research materials for homework assignments as well as the usual complement of avid readers insulating themselves with a comforting stack of novels for the weekend.
Anna had spent time with patrons recomme
nding titles from her own extensive reading background and enjoyed the challenge of requests.
“Another one like this but not so long and set in another time period perhaps?”
“I saw it here last month. It had a red cover I think.”
“Any more by this author?”
The returned books had piled up again and Andrew asked Anna to add a few extra hours in the next week to tackle the backlog. The library Pages who were supposed to arrive after the school day ended, had not turned up because of the weather. Anna knew that her diversion trick with the books would not work with this huge and growing pile of materials. Chaos could ensue in a remarkably short time if the books were not dealt with promptly.
The only benefit of such a busy day, thought Anna, as she flipped her long, lank hair to the back again, was the lack of time to worry about one’s own life problems.
* * *
Anna could not wait to shut her own door behind her and divest herself of both her boots and the work day. A supper of toasted cheese with tomato sounded enticing and there was some frozen cheesecake in the freezer that would respond to a few seconds in the microwave. Then, a couple of hours of non-news television, and a comfortable bed beckoned with her own book extracted from the newly-purchased selections not yet available to library patrons. One of the perks of the job thought Anna with a contented sigh.
Keys, gloves and purse landed on the console table in the tiny entrance hall in her apartment. Coat, hat and boots were quickly stowed in the hall closet and as Anna bent to retrieve her cosy slippers, she bumped into the table sending the pile of mail cascading onto the floor.