by Ruth Hay
Alina continued to insist. Next on the list was a health club membership for Anna. She tried it for a trial month but found the majority of members to be young, lithe types who made her feel ancient. The machines in the gym looked like medieval torture implements and the entire atmosphere with its grinding music did not suit her one little bit.
“Enough!” she declared. “I promise to walk every day instead. If I walk downhill to Springbank Park and stay on the pathways there by the river, that will have to do. If I can make it back here on the uphill stretch and still breathe, it will be enough.”
Alina agreed. She volunteered to keep Anna company on her jaunts and they were able to extend the exercise time by a few minutes each week during the summer months until they were both managing the return hill without collapsing in exhaustion. Philip joined them sometimes. He had discovered the park some years before and was always extolling its virtues.
“You two Londoners don’t appreciate what is on your doorstep. It’s an exceptionally beautiful park for a city of London’s size. The walking paths are designed to showcase the spectacular trees and down by the river the air is fresh and you can watch ducks and birds, and even canoeists, as you walk. Make use of it while you can.”
It was a long, mild, Fall season and so the walking continued several times a week to mutual benefit but now that the first signs of an approaching winter could be seen in the colourful leaves, Anna was indeed becoming restless. She loved Thanksgiving in Canada and enjoyed turkey with all the trimmings as a wonderful feast surpassing Christmas in some ways, since there was no necessity to worry about presents. Not that she had many people to buy for these days. Except, of course, for the children of friends in Scotland and those gifts had to be mailed well ahead of time to be sure of arriving before Christmas Day.
And so, as soon as the turkey had been consumed down to the bones in soup, Anna could resist no longer. It was time to journey back to Oban before the winter snow flew in Canada.
Chapter Three
Closing up the condo was simple. She emptied out the fridge delivering anything useful to Alina, packed a rolling carry-on case, set the security system, locked the front door, and stepped into the limousine taking her to Toronto, knowing Alina and Philip were standing by.
The length of her stay was to be determined by the weather conditions in Canada. Although Scotland’s winter could produce cold and snow, neither lasted for too long and the spring pushed through the grass much earlier than in Canada. It was her favourite time of year to snuggle down in her spacious home in a beautiful location where just gazing out of the windows at passing clouds and seabirds occupied delightful hours.
With Bev and Alan nearby and Jeanette and George still in Oban, as well as Fiona and Gordon in their castle not too far away, she felt surrounded by friends whenever she needed company.
In the silence and tranquility of the countryside, she could restore her peace of mind and take comfort from the memories of Lawren that infused the house.
The flight was full. The reserved First Class section of the plane had few seats to allow for more space, but these also were filled. Anna had an aisle seat and an older man was on her left, beside the window.
John introduced himself, chatted politely for a minute or two then promptly went to sleep.
After only a few minutes into the flight, Anna knew sleep, for her, was not going to be easy. In the centre seats to her right was a family of four with the youngest child in her mother’s arms. The father and another child were occupied with video games and in-flight television while the young mother coped with a fractious baby.
Babies often had difficulty on take-off with changing pressure which affected their ears but this child did not seem to settle after they were at cruising height. Sympathetic glances were exchanged between Anna and the mother.
“I apologize,” she murmured. “Evie has been restless all day. I expected her to sleep all the way to Glasgow.”
“Don’t worry!” whispered Anna. “If you like, I will take her for a bit while you get some rest.”
The young mother seemed embarrassed at this offer and renewed her efforts to calm the baby but after another hour of fruitless attempts, and increasingly annoyed glances from other travellers, she had to give in.
Anna took Evie in her arms and rocked back and forth singing an old lullaby under her breath. The baby’s eyes started open in amazement as she looked up into this unfamiliar face. Anna was afraid she would begin crying more loudly than before, but the singing took effect and the weight of the child grew increasingly heavy as she finally relaxed into sleep.
Anna held her hand to the red face in her arms and thought Evie might be overheated. She loosened the blanket around her and eased open the little jacket to allow some cooler air to circulate. Evie’s mother was now sleeping peacefully and so were the baby’s father and brother. In fact, the whole front section of the plane was taking the chance to rest while the baby was quiet. Anna did the same, closing her eyes and breathing deeply while still rocking the baby whenever she stirred for a second.
The respite did not last long but as soon as the crying began, Evie’s mother claimed her again and soon passed the baby over to the father at the other side of the cabin. She smiled in grateful thanks and Anna thought Evie was good preparation for cradling Fiona’s new baby, who she hoped to meet while in Oban.
* * *
They arrived in Glasgow to a morning of cloud and gentle rain. Anna was among the first to exit the plane and she walked straight through the airport to the customs area. As she was the proud possessor of two passports, she progressed through the UK/EU exit and was in a taxi heading for the city’s Central Train Station before she had come fully awake.
The air was fresh and damp and always had, for Anna, the exciting scent of a new place with untold discoveries. She replied to the usual enquiries from the driver and settled down to watch the passing traffic and the buildings old and new flying by on the motorway.
Her train was not arriving at the terminus until 10:00am so Anna asked to be dropped off at the Jurys Inn where she knew she could purchase a delicious breakfast and take a rest before walking up to the nearby station with her rolling case in tow.
Well-fed and with renewed energy she arrive in the enclosed, huge and echoing station precinct in just enough time to find her “quiet” carriage on the platform and spot her reserved seat. Her case fit into the space behind her seat and she was soon divested of her raincoat, her hat, and her shoes, which she kicked off under the table. She had stopped to collect an armful of Scottish newspapers and magazines and with the addition of a large cup of tea, which the attendant promised to refill whenever necessary, Anna Mason Drake knew she had once again returned to the alternative comforts of her second home.
Grant’s son, Cameron, met her from the train. “How was your journey, Mrs. Drake? My father sends his regards and hopes you will be seeing him on this trip.”
“I will make a point of seeing your father, Cameron. There’s no one who can collect gossip better than Grant can. He’s always a fast way to catch up on what’s been happening in Oban while I’ve been away.”
Cameron laughed; a deep chuckle that began somewhere in his lower chest and burbled up from the depth. “You are surely right about that, Mrs. Drake! He’s a magnet for gossip. He keeps in touch by phone now that he’s retired from driving. My Mum says he costs them a fortune in phone bills but I’m thinking she’s glad it keeps him out of her hair most of the time.”
“I’m sure she’s right about that. It’s a good trade off.”
Cameron stowed her case into the back of the big Range Rover and made sure she was seated comfortably in the passenger seat. Before they drove off, Anna asked if they could stop at the supermarket to pick up some supplies.
“Och, you’ll not be needing to do that! Mrs. Matthews has stocked up the kitchen for you just the other day before they left for the States.”
“Oh, have they gone already? I was
hoping to see them before they went.”
Bev and Alan were her nearest neighbours at the estate farmhouse and it was always good to catch up with them. Bev insisted she needed a Canadian news and views infusion from Anna whenever she arrived.
“Aye, well, it seems their Eric had some big presentation to do in California and he wanted his parents to be there. It’s something to do with a new computer thing he’s been working on. I think Mrs. Matthews left you a note.”
Anna had to be content with that. Bev and Alan would not be away for too long and they would have plenty of time for long chats by the fireside with some of Bev’s delicious scones and cakes to share.
* * *
They soon left a rainy Oban behind but not before Anna had taken a good look around. As she had expected, there were no major changes to be seen. It was one of the most comforting things about Scotland. The pace of change seemed much slower here. In Ontario, new buildings went up in a flash, restaurants closed or opened, whole subdivisions appeared so quickly that driving along a once-familiar road could be quite disorienting.
Nothing so uncomfortable occurred here. The road to the mountains was the same as it always had been. It flashed by in the usual way as Cameron showed the driving speed he had learned from his father, but as soon as Bev and Alan’s homestead appeared Anna felt her inner excitement grow.
Next to appear over the rise would be her very own, substantial, stone house with its welcoming red door.
To her surprise there was a stream of smoke rising from the chimney. Had Bev turned up the Aga in the kitchen or laid a fire before she left? It was a kind thought but highly unusual to let even a long-lasting peat fire smoulder when no one was living there to supervise it.
She was about to draw Cameron’s attention to this when he forestalled her.
“Now, dinna be concerned Mrs. Drake. You have a visitor and I was sworn to secrecy. I hope it’s a good surprise for you.”
He would say no more, so Anna was left, consumed with curiosity until she reached the front door, and found her great-niece Ashley in her arms, chattering away at such a rate, Anna could not understand a word she said.
“Oh, forgive me! You must be tired from your long journey and I am keeping you standing on your own doorstep. Let me get your case and I’ll explain everything.”
Ashley stepped outside to exchange a word of thanks with Cameron, leaving Anna to enter the McCaig Estate Farmhouse on her own.
It had, as ever, the effect of wrapping oneself in a warm shawl. The stone walls provided shelter from westerly winds and the south-facing window in the kitchen captured all the sunshine until sunset each day, providing a bright and welcoming prospect over the garden. She sank down on the padded bench by the window and shrugged off her coat, placing her hand on the spot where Morag, the brown tabby, had preferred to sit. The cat was gone now after a long and happy life.
Anna refused to let any regrets mar this homecoming moment. She gazed around the kitchen, the true heart of the home, and found everything as she had expected with the addition of a kettle burbling on the Aga, a table set with plates and cups and a bowl of wildflowers and spruce clippings. The air was warm from the stove, and the bright sunshine which had emerged when they left Oban town. Anna unbuttoned her cashmere cardigan, took a deep breath, and sat back happily to wait for Ashley’s explanations. She knew her first cup of tea in the kitchen would soon follow.
* * *
“Right, then, I see you are settled already, Aunt Anna. My grandparents send their love and I have imposed myself on you for two reasons. One is that your brother Simon is awaiting a hip operation and Gran Michelle is having a hard time with him as he won’t follow doctor’s orders and stay off his feet. She is terrified he will trip and shatter what’s left of his hip and she has cleared the house of anything that could get in his way. That includes me, I’m afraid. She gave me my marching orders and I went to Halifax to see my publishers.”
“I am sorry about Simon. He never was a good patient, even when we were children. It used to frustrate our mother. Is Donna still staying in Prince Edward Island with them?”
“No, my Mom has a new boyfriend and she has moved in with him to see if they are compatible.”
Anna tried to control her left eyebrow that always tilted up when she heard something unexpected. Ashley did not notice, as she was pouring boiling water into a brown betty teapot as she spoke.
Anna was still trying to absorb how many changes had occurred in the last few months since she had been in touch with her brother and his wife. Their move from Alberta to the east coast of Canada had not resulted in much easier contact. In fact, it was more difficult to reach the island than it had been to get on a plane and fly to Alberta. Anna knew she had been lax about visits and now she was hearing about things she should have known.
“So, you said there were two reasons?”
“That’s right.” Ashley pushed forward plates of tempting scones and two pots of home-made jams that had the labels of Bev’s Cottage Kitchen. She was gathering her resources for the next revelation.
While Anna busied herself with butter and knife and tea stirring, Ashley Stanton adjusted her glasses, pushed her fair hair into place off her forehead, and bit her lip. The next minutes had to go well or she had miscalculated badly and this daring idea was a lost cause.
“It starts with my publisher. No, it really starts with Lawren.”
Ashley had Anna’s full attention now. A reference to her husband was unusual in this context. She waited to see what would emerge.
“You remember how Lawren saw into my secret ambitions when I first met him? We had a private chat up there on top of Helen’s Hill. I was a raw, uncertain teenager but he gave me courage to pursue a writing career. I always felt close to him from that moment on. He was so special to me.
Oh, I didn’t mean to trouble you. Please don’t be sad, Aunt Anna.”
She reached forward with a tissue from her pocket but Anna waved away the gesture saying, “I am just so happy to hear you speak of him in this way, Ashley. I know he had an influence on many people and it brings him closer whenever he is mentioned so lovingly. Thank you.”
“Oh, the thanks are all mine, believe me! After he died so suddenly, I know you were bombarded with requests to provide comments and do interviews for magazines and art publications. The fact that you chose me for an exclusive, personal and private interview was the real start of my career in journalism.
You do know I am eternally grateful to you for that privilege.”
Ashley gulped and swallowed when she saw Anna’s reaction. She was determined to proceed with her plan and breaking down in tears was not going to get her there.
“This lengthy preamble brings me, at last, to the second reason. My publisher wants me to write something about Lawren. Before you protest, he was not specific on how or in what format. He is well aware of your reticence to speak of private matters. He knows of our relationship, of course, but he has left it up to me to approach you with the idea and I am totally ready to abandon the whole thing if it is not what you want to do.”
Ashley stopped and breathed out. The latter statements had come in a rush because of her apprehension. She was banking a great deal on this request but she knew it might well prove fruitless.
Anna was shocked and it showed.
She turned away to look out of the big picture window to gather her thoughts. Ashley was a dear young woman. She had come to Oban several times when Lawren was here with Anna and again after he had gone. She was good company, a trusted family member and a talented journalist.
The question was whether or not Anna was ready to share with the public in general, aspects of her precious private life and her personal memories of Lawren Drake. Perhaps she would not be so reluctant to consider the request if they had been blessed with a typical decades-long marriage. Their all-too-short time together seemed all the more treasured. She clung to each moment.
And yet, as time passed, she k
new some of those moments were beginning to grow dim. She would never feel as if she owed the public access to those memories but it could be that, as guardian of much of Lawren’s legacy, she owed the story to her family above all.
If, like Lawren, she should die unexpectedly, there would be few left alive who could tell what she alone knew to be true. The thought of some hack delving into obscure records and pasting together an unauthorized biography at some time in the future, made her skin crawl with distaste.
If it should ever be done at all, Ashley Stanton, her great-niece, Simon’s granddaughter, was clearly the writer to do it.
When she turned back to face Ashley, she saw the genuine concern for her aunt in the young woman’s anxious expression. Anna believed she had meant it when she promised to drop the entire idea should her great-aunt disapprove.
Suddenly, the decision was made. Now was the perfect time, and now was the perfect place.
“Dear Ashley. I think I have resisted long enough. I trust you, in the love you have for my late husband and for me, to record our story with sensitivity and discretion. We have a lot to discuss, of course, but I am feeling very tired at the moment and I must go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Ashley quickly damped down her elation and contented herself with a gentle hug around her aunt’s shoulders. Inside, she was jumping with joy but now was not the time to show it. It had clearly been a difficult decision. A good night’s sleep would be the best preparation for a serious discussion about how to collect the information and what was to be included. For the present she restricted herself to one heartfelt ‘thank you’ then escorted Anna upstairs to her bedroom where a peat fire was burning and fresh sheets were waiting for the weary traveller. While Anna was in the bathroom across the hall, Ashley placed a glass of water by the bedside, closed the drapes and lit a lamp on the bedside table. When everything was in place she went back downstairs and hugged the good news to herself. There was no need to tell her publisher yet. It was still a secret and she intended to keep it as such for as long as she could. Whatever happened in the next weeks in the McCaig Estate Farmhouse near Oban would remain between the two people mostly closely concerned.