Valley to Vale

(former title Scream, Run or Hide)

An original story Written By Christine Wichman c. January 24, 2021

Libby Ledbetter was dreaming of Jurassic Park again. A gigantic Tyrannosaurus Rex had chased her down and cornered her in her own living room. The fear was so real, her heart was pounding out of her chest, and sweat dripped from her temples. As hard as she tried she could not scream, run or hide. Perhaps the stress of life was finally getting to her.

Elspeth Moon Campbell Ledbetter, “Libby” was a highly paid sales engineer who worked for a Silicon Valley start up only six months when the virus struck and all employees were mandated to work from home. Poor Libby, she had three kids under the age of seven, two dogs pushing fourteen and her beloved 95-year-old Korean Grandmother, Bong-Cha all under her domestic watch. Her husband Rob Ledbetter, had tragically died in a fiery Tesla crash a little over a year ago. And two months ago her angst ridden Father, Douglas Campbell took his own life after filing for bankruptcy.

“Mommy I need help!!!” Angus was online with his 8 am. Zoom class and his first grade teacher, Ms. Halpern just called on him to give his science report.
“Shit it’s past 8!” Libby glanced at the clock, her heart still racing from her jurassic nightmare. “Coming Honey,” Libby ran into the family room in her black slip, looking down she was a bit surprised she must have fallen asleep after getting undressed and never actually made it to the phase of putting on her pajamas.

“Good Morning Mrs. Ledbetter,” called the teacher from the other side of the screen, one eye brow raised in judgement of Libby’s inappropriate attire.
“I’m sorry things are a bit crazy around here,” Libby smirked then jumped out of frame and began rifling through the notebook on the large white marble coffee table. Finding the page marked Paleontologist Report she handed the notebook over to Angus, and whispered, “Just read this page.”
Angus slowly and steadily read the page aloud to his classmates and teacher who were reduced to a tiny gallery view of “Brady Bunch” squares on the laptop.

“Tyrannosaurus is a genus of coelurosaurian theropod dinosaurs. The species Tyrannosaurus rex, often called T. rex or colloquially T-Rex, is one of the most well-represented of the large theropods. Tyrannosaurus lived throughout what is now western North America, on what was then an island continent known as Laramidia…”

“Angus,” the teacher interrupted, “I am thoroughly impressed by your pronunciation skills, however are you sure this is not a blatant copy and paste from wikipedia?”
Libby sighed and stepped in again, wrapping the couch blanket around her as a shield, “I’m very sorry Ms. Halpern, but your directions only stated to give information on your favorite Dinosaur. You did not clarify that it needed to be in their own words.”

“Technically you are correct Mrs. Ledbetter, however one usually assumes that one should at least paraphrase or create their own content when presenting an oral report.” The Teacher’s smug smile sent Libby over the edge.

“Well technically when one is to ‘assume’ anything it makes an ass out of u and me!” Libby could hear the shadowing parents’ gasp from their tiny squares, and the teacher’s face let Libby know there would be a very lengthy apology note to the teacher and administration in her near future.

“Moooommmyyyy!” came a bellowing howl from Paisley upstairs. He was also struggling with his online class.

Libby darted from one disaster to the next rushing past “Granny Bong”, as the children lovingly called her.

“You need help?” Granny squeaked from her vintage barcalounger. “It’s okay Halmeoni, you stay there. I don’t want you to fall up the stairs again!” Libby always used the more respectful moniker for Grandmother when addressing Bong-Cha, for Bong-Cha was a force to be reckoned with.

Libby’s Mother, Cho ran off to Inverness with a Scottish Laird when Libby was thirteen-years-old. Leaving Libby with her father Douglas Campbell, also Scottish, who raised her alone in his musty old Hillsborough mansion just south of San Francisco. Libby would spend summer’s in Korea with Bong-Cha, who was widowed, wise and watchful. When Rob died, Libby invited Bong-Cha to come and live out her years with them. She craved the maternal comforts her own mother was not willing to offer.

Bong-Cha smiled with amusement as Iris, the youngest child, climbed up into her lap and placed her chubby little hand on the Grandmother’s smooth cheek.
“Are you ready for heaven yet Granny Bong?” Iris whispered.
“I don’t want to go to Heaven, none of my friends are there,” giggled Bong-Cha.
“Then I don’t want to go to heaven either,” smiled Iris.
Bong-Cha hugged the child, “We will go wherever you like.”
“I want to go where my Daddy is, and Grampy Doug.” beamed Iris.

Libby heard Iris’ words from the top of the stairs and her heart sank. She wished they were both here. She needed them now more than ever. She felt utterly abandoned.

During the late 80’s early 90’s Libby was something of a rebel. Enrolled in an all Girls Catholic High School, she spent most of her time chasing alternative rock bands and hanging out on seedy tour busses. That’s where she met Rob, he was a roadie for a San Francisco group, Faith No More. Five years older than Libby, Rob was a twenty-two year old college drop out when they started dating, which did not please her strict father. They snuck around behind Doug’s back until things started to get serious. In 1999, when Libby was 24 and Rob 29 they ran off to Vegas and got married. Her father coerced Rob into taking a job at his prestigious luxury construction company, Campbell Commercial. Rob began at the bottom, with a hard hat and a hammer. Gradually working his way into the office and Doug’s heart. When Rob died, Doug may have taken it the hardest. He felt he lost his only son and only hope of surviving financial ruin, in the wake of a class action lawsuit involving the sinking of one of his high rises.

Meanwhile, Libby had gone through years of fertility challenges while studying Art, earning a B.A. then Masters, and finally a doctorate degree. Her dream was to work at Christie’s Auction House and she actually landed a job there on the same day she found out she was pregnant with twins. The IVF had finally done its’ job and it was a difficult pregnancy, which meant the dream job had to wait indefinitely. After Angus and Paisley were born, in 2013 Rob and Libby moved out of their apartment in the Mission district and with her father’s help purchased the perfect family home in Portola Valley, a woodsy hilly town not too far from Hillsborough.

It was here the new dream began, Libby was a stay at home mom, with two dogs and a happy thriving family, she was so relaxed she became pregnant again just as the boys turned two. Iris was her special girl, a rosy faced blonde child. She took after the Campbell side, while the boys were dark like herself and Rob.

Paisley wandered up to Libby in the hallway, eyes red from crying, in just his shark print PJ bottoms, his hair like a hedge hog piled in random spikes a top his sleepy head. “Mommy the teacher says I need to wear my uniform. I can’t find it.”
Libby bent down to hug her boy, grasping him for dear life she sobbed and sobbed until she had nothing left.

*****************************
“You promised you’d be here, you promised we were forever,” Libby was tossing and turning gripping her pillow tight as the words slurred from her sleeping mouth.
“Angel,” he called to her like he use to, “I’ll stick with you baby for a thousand years, nothing is gonna touch you in these Golden Years…” It was Rob, vivid, dimensional and oozing emotion toward her like he never did when he was alive. His love was so thick she could feel it igniting sparks of truth and something other worldly. From his favorite chair he smiled at her, then turned his attention to a large television screen where a violent roar came charging toward them, it was the evil T-Rex, his teeth razor sharp and bloody, getting closer and closer…

Libby woke up sweating, again. Running her fingers through her jet black tousled hair, she smiled, as she recalled those words. ‘I’ll stick with you baby for a thousand years…’ “Wait. That’s Bowie!” bemused, she jumped from bed and focused on the happier parts of her nightmare.

Shaking the large grey duvet into place the king size bed was made in one fell swoop. Libby glanced at her reflection in the large wall mirror and was relieved to see, “Pajamas, phew.” A huge accomplishment considering she didn’t remember anything after taking an Ambien as soon as the kids fell asleep.

As she ambled downstairs, the dogs at her heels she reveled in the fact that it was Sunday. And not just any Sunday, it was Labor Day weekend Sunday which meant Monday was going to be free of work and school obligations. No Zoom and Doom for one more day. “Hooray” she said to the dogs, “We’re free.” She had barely survived the chaos of the past week.

Both mutts wagged their tails and frolicked into the kitchen, waiting patiently to be let out the back door for their morning ritual.
Meanwhile, the kids were set up in the family room eating frozen waffles and watching the Disney Chanel with Granny Bong, who ritually arose at sunrise to practice her Kimoodo, an ancient Korean form of Tai Chi. It was this sacred healing art that Bong-Cha attributed to keeping her alive and thriving.

Everyone looked perfectly content, so Libby took this moment to grab a cup of coffee and go into Rob’s man cave down stairs for a little morning meditation of her own.
She rarely came down here, but the dream spurred something, Libby glanced the book shelf and read the titles of Rob’s old books. “String Theory for Dummies” sat beside “ The Elegant Universe” by Brian Greene. Rob was fascinated with how things worked, especially Quantum physics. She then moved on to his extensive record collection. Displayed both proudly and aesthetically in grey custom made cement shelving pockets. Strangely enough there it was, Bowie’s Golden Year’s Album, right out in front. Libby picked it up and looked at the cover. “Ahh a beautiful circa 1976 David Bowie,” she had an appreciation for musicians of the 70’s, Mick Jagger, David Gilmour and Robert Plant in their prime. Simply delicious.

Libby then walked toward Rob’s state of the art vintage record player and began to remove the record from the sleeve to play the song, from her dream, in its’ entirety.

As she pulled out the vinyl disc a small manilla envelope fell to the floor. “Huh, what’s this?” Libby picked it up, then continued to place the record onto the player moving the needle to Golden Years.
She sat down in Rob’s favorite chair, anxious to let the words pour over her, she set the envelope on the floor, planning to explore it’s contents after she heard the song;

Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop

Don’t let me hear you say life’s taking you nowhere
Angel
Come get up, my baby
Look at that sky, life’s begun
Nights are warm and the days are young
Come get up, my baby

There’s my baby, lost that’s all
Once I’m begging you save her little soul
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come get up, my baby

Last night they loved you
Opening doors and pulling some strings
Angel
Come get up, my baby
In walked luck and you looked in time
Never look back, walk tall, act fine
Come get up, my baby

I’ll stick with you, baby, for a thousand years
Nothing’s gonna touch you in these golden years
Golden
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come get up, my baby

Libby was a sobbing mess again, the message of the song pierced her heart. After she dried her tears and sipped the last of her coffee, she finally took up the manilla envelope and opened the clasp. Inside were three typed pages, folded in half and a small golden key dropped in her lap as she tipped the envelope toward her.

The letter began, “Libby if you are reading this, I am no longer with you. I hope you find this at just the right time. What I am about to tell you will undoubtedly change your life for the better. Nothing’s gonna touch you in these golden years….”

***********

Libby continued to read the letter:

...You are my Angel, now and forever. I knew I was in love with you the first night I laid eyes on you backstage at The Stone. I was watching you watch the band and I had never seen a girl react to Faith No More with such raw enthusiasm, you were a tiny classy girl, who anyone would mistake as fragile. But then James Hetfield brushed past you drunk as hell, knocking you over. I watched you spring up and kick him right in the ass with your high heeled boot and I thought, damn, now that is a girl I want to have my back. It serves him right his PA went out while he sang War Pigs with the band. That must have been that thing you call Karma taking place…

Libby giggled at the memory, she had no idea she had kicked James Hetfield. She thought it was just a loser fan rushing the stage. She also remembered every detail about that night April 9, 1990. In fact, she wrote in her diary that she had met her future husband….Mike Patton, the lead singer for the band, that was who she was determined to marry. She laughed out loud again. But then Rob had approached her shyly and managed to get her number. She thought it would come in handy having a connection to the band. For Libby, it wasn’t until three years and many dates later she would begin to melt for the boy who worshiped the ground she walked on. It was Libby’s 18th Birthday and Rob surprised her with dinner at Bix on Gold Street. It was such a sophisticated place. Libby looked much older than 18, so no one carded her when she ordered a Side Car, her father’s signature drink, and the only cocktail she could think of as the waiter put her on the spot with his inquiry. Rob was in hysterics watching her cringe as she tried to drink the powerfully strong concoction.

After dinner Rob booked a room at the Fairmont. Libby had been to plenty of fancy hotels with her father, but never the Fairmont. Rob out did himself. Champagne, strawberries, a window with a balcony that looked like Paris. Only instead of the Eiffel Tower for back drop they had the Transamerica Pyramid.

Libby would always count herself among the rare few who lost her virginity to the man she would love forever. Not to mention, the place she lost it, was fit for a real Princess. Rob always treated her like a Princess. Libby sighed realizing her loss all over again. The simple truth, came falling from her lips, “Oh Rob, the day you died, was the day my world ended,” quiet sobs ensued as she forced herself to continue reading the letter.

….Libby this life with you has been more dream than reality. I don’t ever want it to end. But should I leave this world and you behind I need you to know that I have left you an escape plan. Right now we are new parents, twins. Who would have thought? So I purchased us a little security for our old age. I don’t want you to know about it right now, because to be honest you would kick my ass with those high heeled boots if you knew I’d spent my inheritance on something so extravagant. I bought you, a Scottish Castle. And yes, I am so glad I am not saying this to your face right now… but hear me out. I plan on running it as an Air BnB, with a property manager. Should I die. He knows to keep it in your name and run things as is, with the profits going to a Scottish account I set up, again in your name. This place is a dream. This place is fit for the Princess that you are. And I hope you find it a blessing and not a curse. Just remember I love you, from this world into the next and I want you to live your Golden years in comfort no matter what comes. The key to the Castle is now yours. Be Happy…

“Holy Shit!” were the only words Libby could muster. She always wondered why Rob’s Dad died and left him nothing. Apparently that was a lie. In the letter there were two names and two addresses. One belonged to the property manager and the other to the Castle.

Immediately Libby got up and grabbed her phone to google the name of the Castle. Typing in Duchray Castle, Aberfoyle

The photo that popped up took her breath away as she continued to read it’s description:

Nestled in the heart of the Queen Elizabeth Forest lies Duchray Castle, a 500 year old tower house linked with Rob Roy. Now renovated it offers cosy yet spacious accommodation and a warm welcome in a stunning, secluded location.

“Ohhh Rob, what have you done?” Libby’s head was spinning.

Libby spent the next 24 hours obsessing over this bombshell. How had it taken her a year and three months to come upon this huge piece of information? What if she had never found that letter? Was there anything else hiding in Rob’s record collection? Deep down Libby knew it was fate, the dream led her to the right place at the right time. She also knew deep down that she was ready to give up the insanity that was now her life. The zoom meetings, the distance learning, the memories of Rob in this house and the heartsick nausea of watching her childhood home and possessions being repossessed by the state, due to Douglas Campbell’s $200 million dollar lawsuit over the sinking high rise. Life in California was no longer the dream, it had turned to a nightmare. Speaking of nightmares, last night was the first night Libby had not dreamed of the T-Rex, in fact, she suddenly recalled she had dreamt of a Unicorn and a Dragon. She knew the Unicorn was the symbol of Scotland, while Dragons hold a lot of mystical power in Korea. Perhaps they represented the two parts of herself. Or maybe it was just another sign to run to Scotland and never look back. Out with the old and in with the new.

She knew she needed to speak with her Grandmother before making any final decisions. So she brewed some traditional Maeshil-cha, or Plum Tea, and invited Bong-Cha to join her on the velvet sofa, in the library.
“What so special we sit in here?” Bong-Cha blurted, picking up her ornate porcelain cup.

“Well Halmeoni, I am at a crossroads. As you know, life has been extremely chaotic since Rob died, and with the Covid-19, Daddy’s suicide, the fires and daily apocalyptic surprises around every corner. I think I’m at the end of my rope,” Libby started to tear up, and Granny Bong was there to comfort her. She placed her frail hand on Libby’s shoulder and patted it, “There, there my girl. Remember, we are descendants of the House of Yi. We strong. We will get through anything. What do you need? We get it. What can we do? We do it.”

Libby then explained her dream about Rob, and slowly read Granny Bong the letter, as soon as she came to the last line, she was filled with emotion and whispered…Be Happy…

Granny Bong shot up off the sofa and raised her arms in the air, “Hot Dog! We gonna live in a Castle!!” she then scuffled off into the next room shouting, “Kids! Kids! Pack your bags, we’re moving!!”

Libby could only laugh, “Well that was easy.” She knew the kids would be thrilled, they were young enough to start a new adventure and old enough to understand that anywhere they were together as a family would be home.

************

The plane ride had been less than spectacular…basically a fifteen hour gauntlet from San Francisco to Glasgow hauling three children, two dogs and one ancient Grandmother, not to mention every valuable possession the Ledbetter clan owned in pursuit of freeing California. Libby left the Portola Valley house in the care of their long time nanny and her husband until notice of their return or a sale of the property. For now, Libby was keeping it on stand by in case the Scottish Castle turned out to be less than a dream.

Mid-flight Angus had a melt down over his mask, and Libby had to bribe the hell out of him to keep it on, or risk them all being tossed out over the Atlantic. “Angus, just try your best honey, I know it’s not easy. It’s not easy for Mommy either. But once we are safe at the castle I promise you will never have to wear it again.” she knew that might be a lie, but these were desperate times.

“But I don’t have to wear it when I’m eating, can’t you just give me more snacks please, I’d rather eat and breathe then die like this!”

The boy had a point. So, Libby rang the bell for the flight attendant, to order up a long list of snacks. When the Scottish flight attendant arrived she smiled sympathetically toward a very miserable Angus, “Not liking the mask ey? You poor dear,” she then whispered, “I fear they are a bit floccinaucinihilipilification to be frank.”

“I’m sorry what was that?” Libby assumed it was some grand Scottish word she’d never heard before.

“Aww nuthin’ Lovely, I didn’t say a thing,” the woman winked.

Fifty dollars worth of snacks later, the kiddos remained appeased until the very rough landing and chaotic deplaning. The weary group were met in the middle of the night by a hired minivan that was at the ready to take them on an hour long ride to Duchray Castle in Aberfoyle. The driver spoke only two phrases Libby could make out, Good Evening and We take tips. Between that there were just a lot of grumblings and grunts as he squinted to see the road in the pitch dark.

“Are we there yet?” Iris was being a trooper, but near the end of her rope.

“Nearly,” Libby lied again, stroking her tousled blonde locks as she lie in her lap. This new van seemed to be missing seat belts. Libby stocked it up to part of the unknown in this daring adventure.

Soon enough they were at the Castle door, it being dark, they could see nothing of the scenery on the way in, and to suddenly be there was a shock. “Wake up Paisley we are here Sweetie,” Paisley had curled up on a snoring Granny Bong. Libby assembled the kids, and the driver brought the dog crates and luggage as far as the Port Cochere, and then sped off with his hefty tip.

Granny Bong was groggy but perked up when she saw they had arrived, “It’s Pink? Wow, this is different, looked more beige in the photos.”

Libby knocked on the door, and they waited in the cold until finally the door opened, it was Grahame Malcolm, the property manager himself, who greeted them.

“Ahh finally, we were gettin’ worried,” he smiled.

He was much younger than Libby imagined, not a day over 40. She had pictured an old grey-haired gentleman when they spoke on the phone. Mr. Malcolm was nothing she’d expected. He was tall, fair and ruggedly handsome, he smelled of firewood, cinnamon and whisky.

“We? Is your wife here as well?” Libby asked.

“Ahh, sadly no wife, I’m here with Mrs. Cooper the housekeeper. We’ve got your rooms ready, and probably best if ya turn in straight away, for the night. We can talk in the morning and I’ll give ya the grand tour then.”

“Sounds perfect,” Libby was relieved and finally at ease.

**************

Libby had a hard time sleeping, due to the time change. Her growling stomach would not allow her to remain in bed a second longer, so she unburied herself from the layers of linen and velvet bed coverings to escape the antique four poster bed. Venturing from her beautiful tower room, down to the kitchen in search of something to tide her over until morning.

She put on her long black silk robe and a pair of warm slippers, then wound her way down the turret staircase touching the cold stone wall for balance. Half way down she came to a narrow Gothic window and caught sight of the full Harvest Moon, pausing to admire the golden glow looming above the glittering forest of autumn trees. It was both eerie and magical all at once.

Wandering the halls of the cold, dark Castle Libby giggled at the thought she had suddenly been immersed into a scene from a Horror Film, “How is this my life?” she whispered under her breath. The energy around her seemed charged and surreal somehow. Tall portraits of ancient Scots following her with their eyes, and the faint smell of musty mists and lingering wood fires.

Finally she came to a swinging door just past the dinning room and assumed it had to be the kitchen. Pushing the door gently, it swung open with great force as if it had a mind of its’ own slamming with a bang into the wall and causing the startled gentleman at the sink, to drop a kettle of boiling water on his bare foot. Screaming with pain he turned to face Libby, and she realized it was Mr. Malcolm in nothing but his skivvies.

“Oh excuse me, I’m so sorry,” Libby held her hand up to shield her eyes, “Are you okay? I hope you are not burned! I’m so sorry.”

“I think I’ll live, just a flesh wound!” Mr. Malcolm laughed. “My apologies for the state you are catching me in, Mrs. Ledbetter.”

“Oh no worries, I just came down for a little something to eat, did not mean to catch you off guard.”

Mr. Malcolm took Mrs. Coopers’ white halter apron from the near by hook and covered himself with it. Then ran cold water over a tea towel and applied it to his scorched foot. “I’d offer to make you some tea and toast, but I’m afraid all the waters gone out of the kettle on to my foot.” He laughed, while he grimaced. The pain was beginning to get worse.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Libby was concerned at the redness she saw forming on his foot.
“I think you may need some petroleum jelly or an ointment to soothe the burn.”

Grahame shook his head, “Ya think I should know where Mrs. Cooper keeps such things. Truth is I never much come into her kitchen, I reside in the Gatehouse, mile up the road. I’m just stayin’ here t’night to be sure you and your family are looked after. Mrs. Cooper took off after you arrived. She had her holiday planned a year in advance and I couldn’t talk her into changin’ plans on such short notice.”

“Well once we get the lay of the land and some background, we are quite capable of taking care of ourselves. Don’t worry about us,” Libby was searching the cupboards for something to relieve Mr. Malcolm’s burn. “Ahhh here we go, this should help.” Libby pulled a jar of honey down from the top shelf.

Mr. Malcolm sat quietly at the kitchen table, his foot up on the long bench, with the cool compress applied. Libby opened a drawer by the sink and found the perfect cheese cloth to use as a bandage. She then sat herself down next to Mr. Malcolm’s foot and began to gingerly apply the honey and wrap it carefully with the cheese cloth. Grahame watched her intently as she eased his pain in an almost miraculous way.

Libby looked up to see the intensity of Grahame’s sky blue eyes watching her, “Cat got your tongue?” she smiled.

Grahame shook his head, and sheepishly admitted, “I’m just a bit amazed that honey could have such an immediate effect on the pain.”

“It’s a good thing my Grandmother has taught me so many natural cures. She is a wealth of knowledge that old lady.” Libby endeared.

“I look forward to getting to know her, and the rest of your family,” Grahame replied in earnest.

“Listen, why don’t you just relax there and keep your foot elevated, I’ll finish up making some tea and toast, for both of us. I assume that is what the boiling water was for?” Libby was headed toward the sink to refill the kettle.

“Well actually I came to fetch some boilin’ water to clear the shower drain, I was about to take my nightly shower and found the basin was clogged. Hence, you findin’ me in this state of undress, which I must apologize for again.”

“The apron is doing a fine job of covering your modesty Mr. Malcolm, think noting of it.” Libby laughed to break the awkward tension.

“Please call me Grahame and come mornin’ could we start again please?”

***********

All three kids insisted on joining Grahame and Libby on a tour of the grounds. Grahame was more than happy to be their guide. His pride for Duchray Castle and Scotland in general came through in the stories he told of the place, and the lively way he revealed the history of everything from a window to an abandoned well.

“Look up there, kids,” Grahame pointed back at the Castle’s tower window, “That’s the famous window Rob Roy MacGregor shimmied out of the night the Red Coats were comin’ after him. The two Graham sisters helped him escape his enemies so he could live another day.”

“Graham? But that’s your name,” Iris interrupted, “were they your sisters?”
“Ah, no lass, Graham was the name of the family that owned the Castle from 1569 until the 1940’s. That’s over four centuries with the same family. I didn’t come into the world until 1980, and besides, I spell my name with an added “E” so t’is just luck my name is tied up in the history here.”

“Mommy do you think our family will be here for four centuries?” Iris was hopeful.

“Well, that is a very long time Iris, if your great-great grandchildren decide to stay, then it’s a possibility.” Libby smiled, warming her hands in the pockets of her colorful Burberry coat. They continued to walk away from the Castle toward the misty fall forest. Angus and Paisley were already running ahead, frolicking in the crisp weather and picking up sticks along the way.

Iris looked back at the pink castle, raising her stuffed unicorn up from under her arm, she whispered in its’ ear, “We’re staying alright, this is my magical home. This is where we belong.”
Grahame was amused by her statement and added, “You know Iris, the Unicorn is the national animal of Scotland.”

“Really?” Iris looked toward her stuffed animal, “Did you hear that Uni? You have a very important job here.”

“Boys, don’t go too far, you have no idea which way Grahame is taking us!” Libby shouted down the dirt path.

“Ah it’s alright,” Grahame smiled, “Let them explore! It’s always more fun when you never know just what’s around the corner.”

“Well, I guess I’m the type that wants to know exactly what’s around the corner. I’ve had plenty of surprises the past two years.” Libby admitted.

“Okay then, I will tell you exactly what lies around every corner here. There are seven acres of lawns, a hedged rose garden, a well, tennis court, various workshops and outbuildings. Not to mention 12 miles of fishing rights on Duchray Water, which flows to the Forth. As well as 15 acres of grazing land and oh, I’d say 60-odd acres of woodland teeming with deer, red squirrels and so on. Still, you probably could get thoroughly lost in nature here, if you chose to.”

Libby was floored, it was all finally sinking in. All of this was hers. Wow. Suddenly she felt a little weak in the knees. The fantasy was all too real. A sudden chill in the breeze and the wafting scent of chimney smoke and dying leaves. Was the pinch she needed to ground her into this wonderful reality.

“Are you okay?” Grahame could see the daze in Libby’s hazel eyes.

“Oh, I am fine, more than fine,” Libby beamed, “Actually I’ve never felt better.”

**************************

They’d been walking nearly two miles when Libby felt all of her stress just melt away with the intoxicating West Highland breeze. She looked on as Grahame ran up ahead leading the boys to the edge of the headstream. He helped them find some nice flat rocks and showed them the fun in skipping stones.

“Whoa, did you see how far mine went Mommy?” Angus was quite impressed with himself.

“Very nice!! Do it again!” Libby cheered.

“I want to try!” Iris began to run down the leafy slope, tripped and fell on her bum, sliding the rest of the way down.

“Careful Iris,” Libby called.
“I’m alright, that was fun!!” Iris was intrepid at heart.

“No Paisley, not like that Lad,” Grahame leaned over the boy to show him how to hold the rock between his thumb and forefinger, “Hold it flat and flick your wrist a bit, like this.”

Libby suddenly flashed upon the image of Grahame she saw last night. She had covered her eyes but the chiseled perfection of that flesh was forever burned into her memory. The entire thought caused her to blush, and suddenly a strange flush rushed through her entire body.

She tried to push the thought aside, feeling a bit like the naughty Catholic girl all over again.
Those nuns really did a number on her sexual guilt. That is one of the reasons she indulged in all that edgy music when she was young. The adrenaline of a good Rock show was what got her through those challenging years growing up with a strict father and absentee mother.

Libby sidled up to Grahame, and almost slipped on the wet leaves, she had to grab his arm to keep from falling, “Whoops, you okay there?” Grahame pulled her up to eye level.

Still a bit flustered, Libby let out a nervous laugh, “I’m such a klutz.”
“Well ya are wearin’ some pretty fancy boots for an outing such as this,” Grahame noted with a grin, that her suede ankle booties had a bit of a heel on them. “Not sure how sensible those really are.”

“Well I guess I didn’t pack with this rugged Trossachs terrain in mind. You will have to point me to the nearest Adventure outlet, once we get the chance.”

“Be my pleasure, we can throw in a first aid kit while we are there.” Grahame was obviously still thinking about last night as well.

“Oh how is your foot doing? All this walking can’t be good for it.” Libby was genuinely concerned.

“Well to be honest, I think you gave me some sort of miracle cure. The swelling was near gone when I woke up this mornin’ and I’ve no pain at t’all.”

“Wonderful,” Libby smiled, “Well I cannot Thank you enough for showing us around. This place is more beautiful than I ever expected.”

Grahame held her gaze, “Aye it t’is.” The two locked eyes for longer than was comfortable.

“Alright now,” Grahame called out to the three, now muddy, children, “ who’s ready to head to the barn to meet some fine horses?”

The grand tour was finished just in time for lunch back at the Castle. With Mrs. Cooper away, Granny Bong made herself at home in the kitchen and found just enough staples to whip up some vegetable noodle soup and cabbage salad. The kids were not pleased with how healthy it was, but they were hungry so they ate.

“Very tasty,” Grahame was being polite. The soup and cabbage was prepared a bit different then he was use to, but he ate it to appease the old woman.

“Libby, a letter came for you while you were out,” Granny Bong nodded toward the side board where she had set the parcels.

“For me? Already?” Libby was surprised, she wiped her mouth with the linen napkin and rose from the wooden bench to retrieve it.

“The return address is from Inverness,” Libby tore the envelope open to find two hand written pages on lush personal stationary with the heading, “Lady MacGillivray of Castle Stuart” there was a bitter tone in her voice as she read the name aloud.

“You know Lady MacGillivray?” Grahame was surprised.

“She’s my Mother.”

************************

“Your Mother?” Grahame was taken aback. Lord and Lady MacGillivray were quite well known in these parts. They were generous philanthropists and supporters of land owners and those entrusted with Historical properties. So Grahame had crossed paths with them on a few occasions.

“How did she know I was here? We have not spoken in thirty years.” Libby shot a look toward Granny Bong.

“I wrote her before we left. I told her we were coming to Scotland. I told her it’s now or never. ‘Cause, I ain’t gonna live forever. She owes it to you to make amends.”

“Halmeoni, how could you? You know how I feel about her?”

“I am sorry Libby. You both the same. Very stubborn. I know it has been too long because of wounds and words misspoken. You need to understand each other before I die, that is my wish,” with that Granny Bong slammed her fist to the table and rose slowly in silence to leave the room.

“I thought her Mommy was dead?” Iris whispered in her tiny helium voice to the boys.

Libby once told the children, that her Mother went off to a far away place and was never coming home. So, obviously they believed she had died.

“Well Iris, she has been dead to me.” Libby spoke harshly, and then wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

Grahame felt he was witness to something very personal and began to excuse himself, “I should probably leave you now. I am sorry if this letter has upset you.” He rose from the table and set his dish by the sink. Then walked toward an obviously shaken Libby. He lightly put his hand on her shoulder and said, “If you need me, just call.”

“Thank you Grahame,” Libby tried to compose herself, “You have been so kind. I am sure I will be in touch soon.”

That evening, once the children and Granny had all gone to bed. Libby opened up the pages of the letter and started to read, inside were some stray photographs.

There was a beautiful photo of Bong-Cha when she was a girl. So strong and full of fire.

On the back of the photo, words in Korean that said, “My Mother”

Libby looked at the other photos, one she had never seen before, written on the back; “Last photo of Elspeth Moon” It was a photo from one of Granny Bong’s visits to California and Libby was a tall 13 year-old girl just about to show Halmeoni her favorite horse.

There were also two pictures of Cho, one when she was a girl in Korea, and another recent photo. Libby stared at the recent image for a long time. She had often tried to imagine what her Mother looked like now, but could never quite grasp a visual, like Cho herself, it was fleeting and vague.

And then she came upon the last photo, it was taken by Rob, the Christmas just before Libby got pregnant with the boys, and on the back of the photo in English it said;
To Cho
Merry Christmas
Love, Libby, Rob, Patches and Mitzi

Libby felt a pain stab at her heart as she realized Rob must have sent this photo to her Mother. What else had he sent her? Suddenly it seemed Rob had more secrets than just this castle.

Libby took a deep breath, set the photos aside, then laid back in the over stuffed tartan chair to finally read what her Mother had to say after all these years.

Dearest Elspeth,

I am sorry we were kept from each other. I tried to send for you, but your Father threatened my life. He hired a lawyer and stopped all contact. I hurt him deeply, but did not mean for that hurt to come upon you. My plan was always to bring you with me. Your Father was a hard man. Now my Mother tells me he is gone. I feel maybe I can reach out to you, finally and explain everything. I would very much like to see you and your children. If you could find a way to open your heart again. Please let me know. You are always welcome at Castle Stuart.

The letter went on to describe Lady MacGillivray’s life at Castle Stuart with her Laird. Libby found all of it so very narcissistic. There were no magic words in the letter that could wave a wand and validate all of the pain Libby had lived through as a motherless young woman. Violently she tore up the letter and threw it in the fireplace. Tears flooding her cheeks as she watched the expensive paper burn.

**********

Libby noticed a bar cart in the corner of the hall where she sat. She sauntered over taking up an etched crystal high ball. Then she poured a very dark liquor from an elegant decanter into it. Taking a sip, she felt her body warming and her thoughts calming. She took the glass, and the decanter up the stairs and wandered toward her bedroom.

Once she had changed into her pajamas she got into the big four poster bed and buried herself with the thick duvet, grabbing the full glass she took a long swig and sighed. She had so much on her mind, but knew things would look better in the morning.

Just then a strange antiquated ring broke the silence, it was coming from the heavy black phone on the bedside table. Libby had mistaken it for a vintage decoration. “That’s a real phone?” Libby said aloud.

Curious, she picked up the receiver, “Hello?”

“Hellow? Mrs. Ledbetter?” a very smooth familiar Scottish accent came through the receiver.

“Grahame?”

“Yes,”

“Please call me Libby,” she laughed.

“I’m sorry t’ bother ya so late, Libby, but you seemed upset earlier and it occurred to me ya haven’t really any friends here as yet, and I hated to think of ya all alone with your thoughts tonight, so well,” he hesitated, sounding a bit nervous. “I know we don’t know each other that well. But if ya needed to talk to someone I am here t’ help.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Libby was genuinely touched, “to be honest I’ve just brought a decanter of whisky to bed with me, hoping to drown my sorrows and wake up a new woman.”

Grahame laughed, “Well I don’t think that’s how whisky works, but to each their own,” Grahame was in his own bed, a mile up the road, with his black lab, Amos at his side. Amos started to bark.

“You have a dog?”

“I do,” Grahame said proudly, “Had to leave him on his own last night, but he did just fine. How are your two adjusting?”

“They’re senior dogs, so Granny Bong has taken them under her wing. They are sleeping with her tonight, and seem perfectly content. I’m so sorry that our day ended on such a strange note, we really owe you for the tour and all the care you are taking to welcome us here to Duchray.”

“It’s been my pleasure and to be honest, it is my duty.” Grahame continued, “Your husband was a very generous soul, he paid me well to look after the place, when I heard he passed I was quite grieved. I had hoped to meet him one day, we always had such nice conversations on the phone. In fact he spoke very highly of all of you. I felt as if I knew you through his words. I think his grand plan was to bring all of you here one day.”

“Really?” So how often did you two speak?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe twice a month on average to go over the books and such,” Grahame hopped he hadn’t spoken out of turn.

“I really can’t believe he kept this place a secret for so long, what if I never discovered his letter?”

“Well, just so you know. Word came from his Lawyers a few months after he died, stating that if within two years time you had not claimed the Castle, it would be up to me to contact you and let you know it was yours.” Grahame sounded serious now, “I was thrilled when we heard from you, it sort of meant it was fated and not forced.”

“Fated and not forced,” for some reason those words resonated with Libby deeply.

“You know meant to be,” Grahame explained.

“Yes, I know.” Libby sat silent taking another swig of whisky. Grahame held that space for her.

“This stuff is actually quite good, wish I knew what it was called,” Libby gazed into the pretty color reflecting from the decanter as a lit candle burned behind it.

“If you took it from the downstairs bar cart, it’s the Macallan rare cask. If you found it in the upstairs secret library that would be the Balvenie 30 year, and it is spectacular.”

“Wait there is a secret library? And whisky better than this one? Oooh I should have a look?” Libby was a bit giddy at the thought.

“Hang on, you best not go wanderin’ through that dark castle on your own, you might get lost or meet with a ghost, I’ll show it to you in good time.” Grahame was smiling.

“Are there really ghosts here? I’ve got enough of my own right now.” Libby confessed, “In fact can I ask you something serious?”

“About Rob?”

“No, not unless you are the keeper of all his secrets?” Libby paused.

Grahame laughed, “Not sure of that, he didn’t really seem like a secretive bloke, to be honest.”

“No, he was a good guy, My Rob,” Libby got a little teary again, “My question is how well do you actually know my Mother? Have you met Lady MacGillivray?”

“I have met her, yes.”

“And, well what is she like?” Libby could feel her throat tightening and her body stiffening up in defense.

“She was fine. She and Lord MacGillivray hold an annual charity ball at Castle Stuart every year in order to raise funds for the Restoration Initiative. They are big investors in a number of Historical Castle projects and maintenance programs. So other than light chit chat and the odd bit of small talk, I have not really had any lengthy opportunity to get to know the woman. All I do know is that she and her husband’s family are highly respected in Scotland.”

“Hmm,” Libby had gone silent again.

“Tell me about your experience with her,” Grahame’s voice was so caring and gentle. He really was very easy to talk to.

“Well,” Libby began, “I came home from school one day anxious to tell my Mother about a boy I had a crush on, and I was met with an inebriated father, slumped in his office chair, eyes red from booze, not tears. When I asked, “Where’s Mommy?” his response was explosive. “Your fucking whore Mother is gone. You are never to speak her name in this house again.”

“Oh my God,” Grahame could sense she was reliving the pain, “I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, well that is how it was from that day on, I had a shell of a father. Nuns to bring me up and my annual Summers in Korea with Granny Bong. The Summers and sneaking off to Rock shows, were my only good memories.”

“Rock shows ey? What bands were you into then? Would I know any?” Grahame was intrigued.

“Mostly local San Francisco Bay Area Bands, the only one you may have heard of was Metallica, they were big.”

“Ahh, Metallica I was front row, at the SECC Arena on the evening of Oct. 27, 1992. It was my 12th Birthday. Fond fond memory that.” Grahame was thrilled to share something in common with Libby.

Libby was impressed and doing some fast math in her head. “Wait, October 27? That is tomorrow! Your Birthday is tomorrow Grahame? Oh my God,” she glanced the Grandfather clock in the corner of the room, it was ten minutes past midnight, “It’s your Birthday today!!”

“Ah, so it is,” Grahame honestly wasn’t bothered, he really did not like big celebrations.

“Grahame, why didn’t you say anything? This is your 40th, that is a big deal!”

“Is it really? I’d soon forget about it, that is such a big number,” Grahame groaned.

“Well I hit it five years ago, so I feel your pain and then some.” Libby put her hand to her face.

“Ah, fear not, you don’t look a day over 29. While we are askin’ what day is your Birthday then, now that ya know mine?”

“July 13th.” Libby offered, “I’m a Cancer, that is why you’ve seen me cry already.”

“Ah, so Cancers are water right?”

“Yes, do you know much about astrology?”

“I only know I’m water too, so cryin’ comes with the territory.” Grahame was putting her at ease.

They continued to talk into the wee hours when suddenly the whisky took effect and Libby fell asleep with the heavy black phone receiver next to her head.

Grahame laughed as he called out to her and heard snoring on the other end.

*********************

Libby woke up very groggy. Looked around to remember where she was, and what day it was. It took her a minute to acclimate to her unfamiliar surroundings and then it all came back to her. All of it, she was in Scotland. Her mother knew she was here and was waiting on her reply. Ugh. Libby threw the pillow over her head and was tempted to fall back to sleep for an endless amount of time. However she also remembered it was Grahame’s Birthday, and that man deserved some sort of acknowledgement. Libby had never met someone so kind, so caring and so intriguing since, well, Rob. And to be honest this sudden attraction felt a bit like a betrayal, or blasphemy toward her late husband.

Nevertheless she got up, got dressed and rounded up the kids and Granny Bong to attack the kitchen once again. This time they were all going to bake a chocolate cake.

The vision of course was met with reality, as the kids began fighting over who was going to crack the eggs and lick the spoon. Mrs. Cooper’s poor kitchen looked as if a flour bomb went off.

Libby sent the children to find anything to decorate with or add to the party atmosphere.

While they were gone Bong-Cha began to broach the subject at hand, “Listen I know it’s hard to swallow your pride and give your Mother a chance. She hurt me too. I never approved of her selfish ways. She has not been in contact with any of us. Did her letter reveal any sort of regret on her part?”

“It did, and it didn’t. She blames Daddy for most everything. Is it true he got lawyers and a restraining order?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe. He never tell me anything. He was man of few words. I was lucky he let you come stay with me those Summers. He usually just stick to logistics, no emotions, nothing deep you know.” Granny Bong continued, “I just feel in my bones you two need an opening now, or closure. Both good for the soul. Your choice.”

Libby could feel her stomach starting to tighten up and a wave of nausea passed over as she thought about her Mother. Before she could give Granny Bong an answer the children were back.

“Did you find anything?” Libby asked.

“Nothing pretty,” Iris answered, “And no balloons or party stuff in this place. Just creepy old stuff.”

“Yeah so much creepy old stuff, ” Angus added.

“Mommy! Paisley is eating all the frosting!” Iris squealed.

“Give me that!! I said you could lick the spoon Paisley, not eat the entire bowl!” Libby grabbed the bowl from his messy hands and tried to retrieve enough chocolate to cover the cake.

Granny Bong sat at the table laughing. “You should have done this without them, not sure that thing is even edible now.”

Libby looked at the slanted cake dripping in icing, but bald in many spots, “Oh, that does look like a fail doesn’t it.”

“I’ll still eat it!” Angus offered eagerly.

Libby ruffled Angus’ curly dark hair and smiled, “Glad I have at least one taker.”

Just then Grahame walked in the back door, in his heavy coat and gloves, “Hello!” he called as he entered, “Anybody home? It’s gone quite cold outside! No one heard me knocking!”

“We’re in the kitchen!” Iris cheered, “But close your eyes! Don’t peek!” Iris ran up to greet Grahame and pulled on his coat sleeve, “Do it. Close your eyes! We have a surprise!” she then led Grahame into the kitchen with his eyes closed.

Libby quickly tried to swirl up the frosting and stabbed a candle she found in the drawer, on top, whispering to Granny Bong, “Hurry give me a match!”

They lit the candle and started to sing, “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…..”

Grahame opened his eyes and had a huge grin on his face, “Well this is a surprise. Wow! Did you kids make this cake all by yourselves?”

“No, Mommy made most of it.” Paisley revealed.

“Sorry, I know it has a few lumps and bumps,” Libby blushed.

“But she made it with Love, that’s what counts,” Iris chimed.

Now Grahame was blushing.
“Well I feel honored,” Grahame was looking straight at Libby now.

“I promise it will taste better than it looks. Take off your coat, have a seat.” Libby started to set the table.

“I’m surprised you found the makings for a cake, I was just coming by to see if you wanted to go to the market in Milton.” Grahame said as he hung his coat on the apron hook.

“What a nice thing to do, on your Birthday. I’d be happy to go later if the offer still stands.” Libby replied.

“Certainly,” Grahame took a seat across from Granny Bong.

“I found some ice cream in the freezer,” Angus called, ” Can we have that too Mommy?”

“Sure bring it in,” Libby held the cake and flickering candle toward Grahame. “Go ahead, make a wish and blow it out.”

“I think my wish has already come true.” Grahame smiled.

*************************

A few weeks went by and Mrs. Cooper had returned to her duties of housekeeping and cooking. Libby had almost gotten use to the quiet easy way they were existing now. But she knew that she and Grahame had to sit down and go over the nitty gritty of just exactly how and if she should become a productive and active Mistress of the Castle. A scheduled business meeting was planned at Grahame’s place, to go over the books and details of how to keep the Estate out of the red, during Covid lockdowns. And to discuss what Libby’s formal duties would look like going forward.

Libby changed from her lounging attire to something suitable. She put on a grey tweed blazer, she bought in the village, and layered it over her mauve cashmere sweater. The weather had definitely turned to a deep November chill. She wore black tights beneath a pair of dark grey velvet trousers and thick wool socks under a pair of heavy leather boots. When she came downstairs she found the tutor, Mrs. Hargreaves with the children in the casual dinning room.

“Good Afternoon Mrs. Hargreaves, I hope it’s going well.” Libby smiled.
“We are doin’ just splendid, onto Maths now.” Mrs. Hargreaves was in her late sixties, a retired school teacher who lived not too far and came upon Mrs. Cooper’s recommendation. This was her first week with the children and they were thriving on the individual attention. They did not seem to miss their online classes, or old school friends as much as she had anticipated.

“Look Mommy,” Angus held up a crystal triangle and let it catch the candlelight, shooting rainbows across the room, “Did you know a Prism‘s face is a parallelogram?”
“Wonderful,” Libby clapped her hands, “So pretty.”
“Mommy we’re gonna play grown up games if we are good.” Paisley announced.
“Grown up games?” Libby questioned.
“Oh I’ve bribed them with backgammon and chess lessons if they finish their subjects early,” Mrs. Hargreaves clarified.
“Well that sounds fun,” Libby replied.

“Where are you going so prettied up Mommy?” Iris posed, putting her pencil behind her ear.
“I’ve got a meeting,” Libby tried to steer away from a detailed answer.

“I bet it’s with Grahame,” Angus giggled. The children could not help but notice how much time Libby and Grahame had been spending together since they arrived.

“Alright, back to work you stinkers, I will see you later.”
The truth was, Grahame ran the place and there was a lot to learn from him, so it was inevitable they would see each other on a daily basis, for one reason or another. Today would most likely put a routine in perspective. Which Libby was looking forward to greatly. She left the dinning room and popped into the Kitchen to see Mrs. Cooper.

“What is that glorious smell?” Libby loved Mrs. Cooper’s cooking and was honestly relieved to have her return.

“Ah I’ve made Grahame’s favorite, Cullen Skink. Would ya mind takin’ him a wee bowl. I’ve made enough for the two of you for lunch, unless ya end up stayin’ for dinner,” she winked. “Mrs. Cooper had been trying to find Grahame a match for years. She approved of the idea of Mrs. Ledbetter being that match. “There is a storm about and it’s gonna get dark early. I always say, to feel safe and warm on a cold wet night, all you really need is soup.”

“Well it smells amazing, now what exactly is a Cullen skink?” Libby learned early to ask what it was she was eating in these parts, everything that sounded nice, ended up being something vile.

“Oh tis just a bit of smoked haddock smothered in milk, butter and onion. A few secret spices of my own thrown in for good measure. I am sure you will love it,” Mrs. Cooper gave the black iron pot a final stir and stepped aside, “Oh, I’ve got to fetch Grahame’s hammer I borrowed yesterday, do you mind takin’ it to him?” She was half way out of the room, and called back, “Just ladle the soup into one of the tureen’s in the butler’s pantry Dear. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Libby found her way to the butler’s pantry, which was a large ornate room full of glass display cabinets and locked cupboards. Every piece of china looked museum worthy and ancient. She saw a plain white covered tureen and took it from it’s dusty spot. Giving it a quick rinse and dry, she filled the fanciful bowl with the creamy chowder and then found a lovely picnic basket to place it in, securing it, so it would not spill on the drive up the road.

“Here ya are,” Mrs. Cooper set the heavy hammer a top the picnic basket, weighing Libby down considerably as she went out the door.

“Thank you Mrs. Cooper, if I am not back for dinner, will you have my Grandmother put the kids to bed.”

“I certainly shall,” Mrs. Cooper involuntarily winked again, completely giving herself away.

Libby had just learned to drive the Range Rover that came with the Estate, and actually hopped in on the left side of the vehicle, realizing her mistake, as there was no steering wheel in front of her. She giggled and walked around to the right side of the car. It was a long narrow dirt road to Grahame’s place, she had passed it many times, on the way into the village, but never been inside the Gatehouse yet. As she pulled onto the short drive way, she saw Grahame running with his Labrador Retriever, Amos, in the adjacent field.

Grahame heard Libby pull into the gravel drive, and turned to wave and smile at her. “C’mon Amos let’s go now,” his dog trotted at his heels following him back to the house.

Libby hauled the basket and the hammer out of the back seat and presented it as Grahame approached, “What’s all this?”

“Compliments of Mrs. Cooper, it’s either a late lunch or an early dinner,” Libby smiled and Grahame took the weight of it out of her arms.

“Well I did put out a few snacks for us as well, ” Grahame led Libby to his small kitchen, where a table was set with charcuterie and wine, “I’ll just add this offering to the mix.”

“Do you cater all your business meetings this nicely?” Libby raised her eye brow.
“Only the VIP’s” Grahame smiled back at her lifting the soup pot from the basket and placing it on the counter, he let out a faint laugh.

“Is something wrong?” Libby was confused by his reaction.

“Did Mrs. Cooper send you with this pot?”
“I know it is a little awkward with just the one handle, I figured it was a Scottish thing,” Libby explained that she found it in the Butler’s pantry when she was looking for a Tureen.

“Did I grab a priceless antique I shouldn’t have?”

“Ah no, but ya did grab a priceless antique chamber pot.” Grahame laughed.

“Chamber pot?” Libby blushed with embarrassment, and then let out a full on belly laugh, “Oh my God.”

****************************

*****************************

After lunch things started to get stormy outside, so Grahame built a fire and poured some whisky for himself and Libby. They continued to talk business in the sitting room, and found that they mostly agreed on the future vision of Duchray Castle. The outbuildings would be refurbished as guest quarters, leaving the family quarters of the Castle private, and the main hall would still be available for weddings and special events. Garden tours and fishing excursions would be added to the events list to bring in money lost from renting the entire Castle out for extended periods of time. Also due to the pandemic, the more they could utilize the outdoors and separate quarters the better.

“So do you have any special passions you would like to incorporate here at Duchray? ” Grahame posed.

“Hmm, haven’t given it much thought. I have a passion for Art and antiques, any way I can make that work?”

“Some Castles hold annual exhibits or auctions for such things, we could think about including an Art Faire of sorts. Perhaps you could go down to Glasgow or Edinburgh and meet with some Museums or Galleries.”

“I love that idea,” Libby was getting excited now, “Oh, it’s been such a long, long time since I was able to look at real art. I almost had a job at Christie’s you know?”

“Did you now? Well that is impressive. Maybe you should start by having a look at some of the pieces in our own portrait gallery….”

“I’ve had a look, and yes. They are stunning!”

“You know if you needed a mentor to have a chat with in regard to running this place, I’ve a book listing the near by Lords and Ladies who are up to the task. In fact your Mother is at the top of the list.”

“Did you have to go and ruin a perfectly perfect afternoon,” Libby was seriously irritated at the mention of her Mother, she was doing very well ignoring the fact she had not responded to that woman’s hideous gesture to reconcile.

“I’m sorry to bring her up Libby, I know she is a sore subject but you could learn so much from her.”

“Why can’t I just learn from you? You have kept this place in good standing for quite some time. We don’t need her!”

“Again, I know how you feel, but you would be surprised. In fact she has saved us on a few occasions.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I think it is time I told you everything.”

“Oh, I don’t like the sound of this already. Please tell me everything. I don’t want any more shocks, I honestly can’t take it.”

Grahame took a long sip of his whisky, then topped his glass and Libbys.

“Well. Once upon a time my Father, Lord Ewan Reed Malcolm owned Duchray. I was born here. His only son. I went off to boarding school at eight, then when I finished school I ran off to Australia to surf and brood. The two of us had no love between us really, ya see my Mother died during child birth and my Father held me to blame. My father had the place forty years when he died of a sudden heart attack. I was thirty, and he left it to me. I didn’t want it,” Grahame laughed, “I was happy in Australia, but my Aunt Wren, she talked me into coming home. So I did my best with the place on what little I had left to me, for a good four years. Then things started to spiral and I had no choice but to sell.”

“So you sold it to Rob?” Libby interjected.

“Well not exactly,” Grahame took another quick sip, “I was approached by Lady MacGillivray at one of her balls, she heard I was struggling and offered to buy the Castle as a gift for her daughter.”

“What?” Libby sat back on the leather sofa and began to process it all.

“I told her I was not ready to give it all up just yet, and she informed me that it would most likely be a long transition process, so I could stay on indefinitely to run things. I admit that made the offer more interesting.”

“So, she basically gave Rob the Castle, hoping he could convince me and the kids to come out here. Which Rob knew was not going happen.”

“Well I don’t think Rob ever wanted to hurt you, and the truth is he probably did not have the time he needed to discuss the prospect at length, hence the letter he hid. The letter was probably just practice for how he was going to approach it all with you.”

“He knew he could never tell me my Mother was behind the idea.” Libby was not as angry as she expected to be. Instead she was relieved. This story made more sense. At last she could stop questioning everything and start to move on.

“I’m sorry you lost this place,” Libby was now more concerned for Grahame in this scenerio.

“I’m not,” Grahame laughed again, “it’s so much more fun running things with someone else’s money. A lot less stressful, believe me.”

“Well I am more than glad that you came with this Castle,” Libby was just tipsy enough to reach out and take Grahame’s hand, she had never been more drawn to him than in this moment.

Grahame felt honored by her show of affection, as he squeezed her hand gently in return.

And then without hesitation they both leaned in for a long and meaningful kiss.

The rain pounding outside, and the fire burning inside aided in the chemistry that pushed them over the edge, losing themselves to the moment and palpable attraction that had been growing between them for weeks.

Grahame carried Libby to his bed and the dark stormy afternoon serenaded them into a quiet misty evening.

Every time Libby tried to get up to leave, Grahame pulled her back to bed, until the evening hours poured into the morning hours and the crack of dawn shone like a jarring reminder to return to real life.

Libby turned to Grahame and asked the obvious question, “Is this going to mess up our working relationship?”

Grahame smiled, “It t’is,”

Libby sat up alarmed, “Really?”

“Well,” Grahame leaned up on his elbow, “It’s going to take working right out of it, I think we should just go with relationship, the rest will fall into place. In fact this might solve my biggest dilemma.”

“Oh and what would that be?” Libby was curious.

Grahame reached over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a fanciful piece of stationary, “I’m in need of a date for the biggest Ball of the Season, do ya fancy goin’ with me?”

Of course it was the Annual Charity Ball at Castle Stuart, hosted by none other than Lord and Lady MacGillivray.

Libby felt like a new woman, suddenly reckless and carefree, so she smiled back at Grahame and said, “Hell why not? The life of the party, that’s me!”

***************

Castle Stuart Holiday Charity Ball

*****************************

Libby spent two weeks finding a dress online to attend the event she wished she had never agreed to. What was she thinking? That by December 21st everything was going to be just fine. That she would wake up not resenting her Mother. That she would feel confident enough to face the most important person in her life who abandoned her for a man.

Libby turned to view the back of the dress in the mirror, she smoothed the sateen fabric of her rose gold, black and white origami print dress, hoping the crane pattern would bring good fortune, as the Korean tradition suggests. Clearly this dress was meant to impress.

Grahame collected Libby at Duchray, in the Range Rover they now shared until a second vehicle could be purchased. Sporting a dark navy Tuxedo and freshly cut hair Libby was floored by his transformation. Saying little but smiling a lot they expressed approval of one another’s Charity Ball personas.

From the gravel car park to the looming Castle they had a freezing five minute walk through snow flurries.

Libby wore a faux fur coat to accommodate the sudden change of seasons, from the first frost to a full blown blizzard in just a day, she had to bundle up for the cold. Taking a deep breath, she held onto Grahame’s arm as they walked up the steep stone steps into the main entrance of Castle Stuart.

Grahame’s reassuring smile and the way he looked in a tux held some power over her feeble emotions. With him at her side she suddenly felt a surge of courage and was ready to face the beast she called Mother.

The imposing Castle Stuart was much larger than Duchray, and the interiors were borderline over the top. If Libby didn’t know any better she’d swear she had just stepped inside the residence of the Royal Family.

A butler took her coat and waved them into the reception room. A dozen fourteen foot Christmas trees stood side by side gilded with golden twinkling lights. The room held nearly fifty people all mingling with champagne glasses in hand. A second butler offered up two crystal flutes on a silver tray. Grahame took both handing one to Libby.

“I’m too nervous to drink,” Libby whispered, “I don’t even know what she looks like anymore, she could spring on me at any moment. Am I really ready for this?”

“You’ll be fine, I’ll give you a three second warning. Besides she doesn’t know you are coming, and I am sure you are the one that looks most changed. She won’t know you right off, it’s dark in here.”

Libby giggled and felt herself relax for a second.

Grahame recognized some fellow Estate managers and led Libby over to introduce her. After a bit of chit chat and a few more introductions Libby came face to face with the Hostess donning a white sequin gown and dripping in diamonds.

“Oh Dear sweet Grahame, so lovely to see you again,” she purred, “and a lady friend this year, how nice. Who is the lucky woman?”

“Lady MacGillivray may I present Libby Ledbetter.”

“Elspeth?” Lady MacGillivray whispered, her face suddenly pale.

“Mother.”

Grahame squeezed Libby’s hand then walked off leaving the ladies to speak privately.

“Sorry to crash your party, hope you don’t mind.” Libby took a long sip of her champagne.

“When I didn’t hear back from you, I thought that was it. I resigned myself to never seeing you again. This is a bit of a shock. You look stunning my Dear. All grown up. My word. I’ve imagined this meeting so many times, now that it is happening I’m speechless.”

“I’ve imagined it too. Surprisingly the reality is nothing like I thought it would be.”

“I know we have so much to talk about Elspeth and I would love to escape to a quiet room and forget all these people but,”

“You are the Hostess, I would never expect you to abandon your guests. We can talk another time,” Libby felt a lump in her throat, a hard to swallow lump that was building itself up like a levee about to break.

“Thank you for understanding Dear. We will talk soon. Just you and me. Perhaps you can come for tea next week?”

“I will check my calendar and get back to you.” Libby could feel herself having an out of body experience.

One of the butler’s approached, “I beg your pardon Lady MacGillivray. His Lordship requests your presence immediately.”

Lady MacGillivray nodded a weak apology toward Libby and ran off to her husband’s side.

Grahame had been looking on from the other side of the room and dashed through the crowd to make his way back to a defeated looking Libby.

“Here,” he handed her another glass of champagne, “I take it that did not go well.”

Libby tipped back the flute and guzzled down the champagne in one go, “Nope, not so great. Can we just get our coats and get the fuck out of here,” Libby just wanted to run back to bed and hide under the covers.

Grahame took her by the arm, “Listen to me, you are Elspeth Moon Campbell Ledbetter. You are a true survivor, an amazing mother, a loving granddaughter and a beautiful human being inside and out. You are filled with the courage of a warrior and you have carried yourself and your loved ones through fire. Hold your head high and never let that spineless woman define your worth. Do you hear me?”

A tipsy Libby held Grahame’s gaze and replied, “I didn’t know you knew my full name?”

They both let out a laugh, as one of the butler’s announced, “Dinner is served.”

“Food sounds good,” Libby linked her arm with Grahame’s and they marched along with the others to the grand dinning hall.

Another regal room with silk red walls, gold and green accents. A table laden with fine china and polished silver. Twinkling trees and candles in keeping with the festive atmosphere. Libby was seated on the far end nearest the doorway, opposite Grahame, to her right side an old grey haired gentleman who looked like he was out past his bedtime. His breathing was heavy, followed by a long wheeze when he spoke. “Good Evening, I am Lord Chesterfield of Finlay Manor, and you are?”

“Lady MacGillivray’s daughter, but you can call me Libby.” Libby was holding up her wine glass toward the approaching server. As the server presented the bottles he whispered “Red or white Ma’am?”

“Both,” Libby whispered back, grabbing Lord Chesterfield’s glass out from under him.

Lord Chesterfield raised an eyebrow, then sputtered “I was not aware that Lord and Lady MacGillivray had any children.”

“THEY don’t” Libby swigged from the glass of red. “She had a child, a daughter, that was me.”

Grahame was looking uncomfortable from the other side of the table trying desperately to get Libby’s attention. Had he been seated next to her he might have difused the situation. Unfortunately Lord Chesterfield’s much younger tarted up trophy wife was placed beside him, currently attempting a bit of footsie under the table.

“Pardon me was that your foot?” she fluttered her eyelashes up at him, “Terribly sorry. I must say your eyes are the most hypnotic shade of blue.”

Grahame blushed, “Thank you, and yes that was my foot.” He caught Libby’s eye and mouthed to her, “Slow down.” pointing to his own wine glass.

By then the red was finished and she had started in on the white.

Clearly Libby had not eaten all day, in order to fit into her dress. The fast and furious consumption of alcohol began taking a toll by the third course, which unfortunately consisted of Oatcake Canapés and Haggis Balls.

“OH my GOD,” Libby spit the contents into her napkin, much to Lord Chesterfield’s dismay.

“What are we eating?” she shouted across the table to Grahame who was wiping his brow with his napkin, hoping none of the other guests were witnessing Libby’s drunken behavior.

He calmly put his finger to his lips to silence her. Just as Lord MacGillivray rose in his seat tapping his glass with his knife to make a lengthy toast.

“Ladies and Gentlemen may I take a moment to welcome you all to Castle Stuart’s Thirtieth Annual Holiday Ball. It is my great pleasure to have you all at our table tonight to celebrate another year of keeping a roof over our heads, food on the table and the tax collector at bay.” pausing for laughs he continued, “My amazing wife has out done herself once again to impress and persuade you in making a kind donation toward the Heritage Fund. Your generosity toward those less fortunate is greatly appreciated. Many struggle to keep our History alive. We owe it to our ancestors to uphold their legacy and preserve all that we can for future generations.”

Applause breaks out, glasses are raised and clinked, then Lord MacGillivray announces, “And now just before our main course my deliciously delightful bride has a few words of her own.”

Libby is starting to feel dizzy, and a bit queasy from the Haggis, she sees Grahame clapping across the table but feels oddly far away and detached, focusing as hard as she can she sees the beautiful lady in white stand up at the end of the table to speak. It all comes back to her. Cho Campbell, the simple meek woman who use to parade her around like a prized possession. Now look at her, The Queen who has everything. Everything but a daughter.

Libby closed her eyes and listened to that voice, once so familiar. The voice that use to read her fairytales before bed. That told her how to tie her shoes with bunny ears, and how to sit at the table like a little lady. Now what was this stranger going on about?

“It is always my pleasure to open my home during the Christmas Holidays. These are times for celebration and gratitude. For the joy of the season to shine through,” Cho, now Lady MacGillivray was so poised and perfect. ‘Perfectly phony’ Libby thought to herself.

“I take great strides in bringing family and friends together this time of year, so it makes me especially happy to see all of your faces here tonight…”

“Even MINE??” Libby shouted, then stood up, teetering down the long row of chairs toward her mother, “I don’t think you are happy to see ME tonight are you Mother? You took no strides to bring your own flesh and blood anywhere near you these past thirty-two years!! So take back all those pretty words, they mean NOTHING. NOTHING!! I mean NOTHING to you!” as Libby came in close proximity of Cho, tears were streaming down her face, and without any way of holding it back she projectile vomited all over Lady MacGillivray’s white sequin dress.

Aristocratic shrieks rang out in unison as Grahame rushed to escort Libby out of the room.

One of the server’s was at the ready with a towel for Lady MacGillivray who pushed him aside and made a mad dash upstairs to withdraw for the evening.

Lord MacGillivray broke the tension with a dry remark, “And we’ve seen to it that you get your money’s worth in entertainment tonight. A bit of reality television American style.”

Meanwhile Grahame got Libby into her coat and out to the car, “You still feel sick? Or can you make the drive home?”

“I just want to go home,” Libby was devastated.

Grahame hugged her, kissed her forehead then shut the car door, making his way to the driver’s side, they were headed home in silence, until Libby switched on the car radio for distraction. It was the Clash “Should I stay or should I go”

Libby sang out the line, “Should I cool it or should I blow,” then passed out.

Grahame shook his head and smiled.

*****************************

Grahame managed to hoist Libby from the car and carry her inside Duchray, as he passed the front lounge he could see Granny Bong was up late watching television. She looked over and gasped, “What happen? She dead?”

“No worse, I’m afraid she’s drunk.” Grahame continued toward Libby’s tower bedroom.

Granny Bong returned her attention to the TV and shook her head saying aloud, “Damn, can’t wait to hear that story.”

As Grahame was winding up the curved stone steps Libby began to stir, “What’s happening? Where are we?”

“I’m putting you to bed my Dear, you are going to need a good night’s sleep and lots of water.”

“Water? I don’t want to go swimming, I’m too tired.” Libby was completely out of it.

Grahame tossed Libby onto her lush four poster bed and gingerly took her out of her expensive and very wrinkled dress. Searching the room he located her black spaghetti strap nightgown hanging on the back of the wardrobe door. He clumsily got it over her head as she was flailing and fighting him, “I hate this nightgown. I hate all my nightgowns, and I hate all my underwear too.” Libby fought her way out of the nightgown and kicked off her panties in the process, Grahame was exasperated, “Fine, fine naked to bed you go.” He then lifted the duvet to cover Libby and got her to settle in, “I’m going to get you some water and an aspirin. Hang on.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever. Again.” Libby slurred and closed her eyes.

*****

Granny Bong was waiting for Grahame to return from upstairs, “So what happened?” she called from the sofa. Grahame came into the lounge and stood over her.

“Well let’s just say Libby took the meeting hard. She drank most of Chateau Largo’s inventory then proceeded to vomit it up all over her Ladyship’s white dress. At the dinner table no less, in front of 50 guests.”

“Oh my God!” Granny Bong eyes widened, “I hope she wakes up with no memory of this. We can just pretend it never happened.”

“I like the way you think Granny, let’s hope so,” Grahame smiled, “Good night now, see you in the morning.”

“Sleep well Grahame, everything will look better in the morning.” Granny Bong was always an optimist.

***************************

Granny Bong and Mrs. Cooper were holding down the fort until Libby could make her way downstairs. Head throbbing and dignity out the window, she managed to get dressed and make an appearance by lunch.

“Well there she is the, the life of the party!” Granny Bong teased, “You look pretty good for a corpse.”

“I assume Grahame filled you in?” Libby had her nose in the fridge and her eye on a plate of cheese and fruit.

“He told me everything. So who do you think came out worse you or your Mother?”

“No idea,” Libby really didn’t want to talk about any of it.

“Don’t expect her to change overnight Libby. She is who she is. Maybe try to approach her as a fresh slate.” Granny Bong was going to get her two cents in no matter what, “You two do not know each other at all. You knew her as a young desperate woman once upon a time and she knew an innocent little girl. You are not those people anymore. Start from who you are now.”

Even if Granny had a point. Libby would prefer not to start anything up at all.

She sat down at the table across from her Grandmother, who was finishing a cup of tea, and silently ate.

Angus ran past the kitchen blowing a toy whistle, “Stop! I order you to stop!! Really stop Paisley!! You are the bad guy! I am the police!!” Clearly Paisley wasn’t playing the game right.

Iris wandered into the kitchen and hugged her Mother from behind, scooting up next to her she propped her toy bear up against the flowers at the center of the table. “We missed you Mommy. We haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

“We?” Libby smiled.

“Beary and Me,” Iris nodded toward her stuffed animal.

“And where is your Unicorn today?”

“He’s tired. I think he drank too much like you did.”

Libby spit out her cheese, “What? Iris!! Who told you that?”

“Nobody, I heard Granny Bong and Mrs. Cooper talking about it this morning.”

Libby shot daggers at Granny Bong, who shrugged off her guilt with a nonchalant roll of the eyes.

“Well Iris, I am very sorry to have missed breakfast and I can promise you that will never happen again.”

“Will you also promise not to runaway from me, like your Mommy did from you?”

“Iris, just how much did you hear this morning?” Now Libby was worried.

“Well I heard the story Granny Bong told Mrs. Cooper and it made me sad. I didn’t know Mommies could run away.”

Libby pulled Iris onto her lap and hugged her tight. “Good Mommies never ever run away and I love you so much that you are never getting rid of me.”

“I love you too Mommy. But I know you are sad today, I can tell when you are sad.”

“I feel fine Iris. Your hugs always cure me.”

Just then Grahame walked in the back door with his dog Amos on his heels. Iris shrieked and ran to hug Grahame and his lab. “Iris just the girl I was looking for!” Grahame smiled, “I have a surprise outside and a special bag in the car, will you go and bring it here please.”

“Sure! I love surprises!” Iris began to dash outside.

“Grab your coat Iris, it’s snowing out there!!” Grahame called after her.

“What have you done now?” Libby smiled.

“You’ll see, c’mon.” Grahame took Libby’s hand and pulled her up off the dinning bench, “You don’t need a coat, you have me.” He wrapped his arms around her and led her to the door.

“What? Oh my God, that is the most gorgeous tree I’ve ever seen!! Wow how tall is that thing?” Libby was floored by the sight of a ten foot Christmas tree freshly chopped from the forest behind Grahame’s Gatehouse and propped up on its’ wooden stand in the drive way.

Iris crawled out of the car with a big red velvet bag full of ornaments and garlands, “Look Mommy! So many pretty and sparkly things in here, can we decorate the tree now?”

“Grahame you are full of surprises,” Libby looked back at him, “I suppose an impromptu Tree Trimming is just what we need today!” she then called to Iris, “Yes we can decorate the tree now. Go get your brothers.”

“Yayyy,” Iris dragged the heavy bag across the snowy drive way and into the house.

“Where shall I put this beast M’ Lady?” Grahame went to lift and drag the enormous tree inside.

“How about the main entrance hall, is that too far?” Libby winced.

“Nah, I think we can handle that, I’ll grab the heaviest part, you steer from the back,”

“I’ll start making the Hot cocoa!” Granny Bong shuffled toward the fridge.

****************************

**********

Libby wasn’t sure who was enjoying the holidays more, the kids or Grahame. After three consecutive days of tree trimming, sledding, and Wassailing everything culminated into a lovely Christmas Day supper at Grahame’s Gatehouse. Grahame prepared everything himself from the roast to the Christmas pudding. Libby, Granny Bong and the kids were told to show up at half past six and to bring their appetites.

Grahame welcomed the noisy lot into his humble digs. He had to add a leaf to his antique dinning table to accommodate six snugly into the corner of his small reception room. Pilfering some odd wooden chairs and old china from one of the storage sheds, he managed to create a rustic tablescape.

Libby was impressed, “This is so homey and cozy. And it smells delicious. Does Mrs. Cooper know she has some competition in the kitchen?”

“Some of my best tricks I’ve learned from her, hopefully I do her proud.” Grahame went to fetch the first course, “Sit down everyone, food is on the way.”

“Where is Amos? Isn’t he eating with us too?” Iris was looking forward to time with her furry friend.

“Amos had his dinner Lass, but I think you can find him passed out by the bedroom fire, go on in and say Hello.”

“I want to show him my new robot!” Paisley shouted. He had not been separated from the battery operated contraption since he opened it up with his other gifts that morning, it was clearly the favorite.

“Can I help you with anything?” Libby offered.

“No, just take a seat, but Angus I could use your help. You look strong enough to carry a priceless antique chamber pot filled with soup.”

Libby laughed, “Oh my God, you are still using that thing?”

Grahame chuckled, “It’s been repurposed, thanks to you.”

“What’s a chamber pot?” Angus asked.

“I’ll tell you after we eat,” smiled Libby.

Granny Bong was taking in the charm of the Gatehouse, “This place so cute. Remind me of fairytale. I feel like Goldilocks in here” she then sat down in the first chair, “Too hard.” she giggled, “You got any cushions?”

“You certainly are Goldilocks,” Grahame called from the kitchen, “Libby toss her a pillow from the sofa.”

“Much better,” Granny settled in, admiring the silverware and crystal glasses. She had an eye for quality, and spent the rest of the evening oohing and ahhing at Grahame’s newly acquired finery.

“Mommy I like it better here than up at the Castle, can we live here instead?” Iris beamed while slurping up the rest of her Cock-a-leekie soup.

Libby blushed, as Grahame leaned in and replied “I’m with you Iris, sometimes simple and cozy are far more grand than big and boasty.”

“I love it too!” grinned Granny Bong, “In Korea my place was not so big on space. Just big on love.”

“That is very true,” Libby’s mind wandered back to her childhood, “When I was little I lived in a big dark house and would hear noises that scared me all the time, my parents bedroom was so far away, I stayed up most of the night with the light on. But when I came to stay with Halmeoni we slept in the same bed, because she only had one bedroom. I always felt safe there with you,” Libby looked to her Grandmother endearingly.

“Love grows best in little houses,” Angus interrupted, “I know that song!”

“Oh me too!” Paisley added, “We learned it at Miss Dylan’s Vacation Bible School.”

“Sing it then!” Iris commanded.
The boys piped up and with their tiny choir like voices sang the following words:

Love grows best in little houses. With fewer walls to separate. Where you eat and sleep so close together. You can’t help but communicate. If we had more room between us, think of all we’d miss. Love grows best, in houses just like this….

The adults clapped and the boys took a bow when they were finished.

“So funny, this all reminds me of a dream I had last night. I dreamt all the guests were coming to stay here and no one wanted to stay in the castle.” Grahame looked truly phased by the coincidence.

“Well I definitely believe in the meaning of dreams. I know they can be more than prophetic. How else would we all have ended up here, if I had not dreamt about David Bowie?” Libby smiled.

******************

The power went out on New Year’s Eve, well not quite eve it was nearly two o’clock when Libby banged on Grahame’s door in the rain. She ran down from the house in her black slicker and rain boots. He had the car, so it was run or take the old rusty bike in the shed. The mud was too thick to attempt spinning wheels, or getting stuck.

“Grahame!! Grahame!!” he didn’t answer her, the rain was too loud. So she pressed down on the latch and let herself in. She came upon him reading by the window in the dark. She stood dripping wet and out of breath in the doorway, a look of fright on her face. “Why don’t you light a candle?”

“Why do you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I have. My Mother was just here.” Libby took off her rain gear and began to hang it on the hooks in the hall.

“What?” Grahame went over to the chair and collected a wool tartan blanket, he draped it over her shoulders, then hugged her and she fell into sobs of despair.

“Come here, sit down. I will make you some tea.” Grahame knew how fragile she was when it came to her mother.

“No, don’t go, just hold me.” Libby whispered. So they sat embraced on the couch for an indefinite amount of time, in the dark and the rain. No fire, no candles just silence and space for all of Libby’s pain.

Once she had cried it out, and was feeling some relief she spoke, “It’s not like I can easily make her the newest addition to the family. I know that is what she wants. But she doesn’t have the same memories I do, she does not see the divide she caused between me and my Father. When she left, she changed the trajectory of my entire life.”

“Are you waiting on an apology?”

“For a start,” Libby mumbled.

“Well if you get your apology then what? I suppose you would like her to spend the rest of her life making it up to you, but how could she possibly do that?”

Libby processed that thought, “I don’t know. I don’t really know what that would look like.”

“And if you cannot fathom that, then how can you find a starting point for a healthy relationship with her?”

“So are you saying I should expect no apology, and hold no expectations from her at all?”

“If you want to be happy, then perhaps you have to look at her as a stranger, who just wants to be your friend.” Grahame got up to make the tea.

“She said she forgave me for what happened at the party. But I think she was waiting on my forgiveness,” Libby followed Grahame into the kitchen, wearing her blanket like a cape.

“Strange that she wants forgiveness, and you want an apology, yet one has to come before the other and neither of you is willing to go first.” Grahame put the kettle on the flame.

“Hmm, well let’s hope one of us caves in the not so distant future.” Libby hugged Grahame from behind and kissed him on his unshaven cheek, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he smiled.

“For being the one sane thing in my life. You always make me feel like there is hope.”

Grahame turned round and they kissed until the kettle began to steam and boil over. Then Libby found the matches and lit the fire and all the candles she could find. Settling back on the sofa with their tea, in the rain. “I promise not to speak of her until I figure out my next move. The balls in my court now, and I think I can be the bigger person. You give me strength Mr. Malcolm,” she kissed him again.

“It’s your strength my Dear, I’m only pointing to the obvious,” he said, kissing her neck.

Lost to the sound of the dancing rain and crackling fire, they spent yet another intimate afternoon forgetting the world outside and all its’ problems.

Up at the Castle Mrs. Cooper was already off for the New Year Holiday, spending Hogamany in Edinburgh. Granny Bong was entertaining the children with a Harry Potter read-a-thon. She let them make forts and use flashlights. Paisley and Angus were taking turns reading aloud to Iris, who was curled up in her sleeping bag with wide eyes. Granny sat in the overstuffed chair, staring at the fireplace and going over what had occurred earlier.

It was she who answered the knock at the door and was shocked to see her long lost daughter Cho standing there as beautiful as ever, in a white fur coat and hat, like the Queen herself.

“Eomeoni?” Cho whispered.

“Daughter? What has taken you so long?”

“May I come in?” Lady MacGillivray wished to escape the storm that was raging outside.

“You drive in the rain alone?” Granny Bong looked worried.

“I have a driver he is waiting in the car.” Cho nodded toward a rolls royce in the drive way.

“He cold? He can come in,” Granny offered.

“No, I won’t be long, is Elspeth here? I need to speak to her.”

“But you no need to speak to your own Eomeoni?” Granny was hurt.

“We can speak one day if you like,” Cho replied in a formal demeanor.

“I’m old, that day better be soon daughter,”

Just then Libby appeared, “Who is at the door Halmeoni?”

Libby and Cho locked eyes. A heaviness filled the air, and Granny Bong spoke up, “Come inside. Let’s sit in here,” she moved them toward the first reception room. “You two talk, I can bring tea.”

“No tea. Thank you, as I said I won’t be long,” Lady MacGillivray remained in her coat and hat.

Libby remained speechless, allowing Cho to speak first. “I came to say I forgive you for your display at the Charity Ball. I hope we can begin again with a clean slate. Start over if you will,” Libby was noticing her Mother’s voice had changed since she knew her, she now spoke with a distinct lilt or affected Scottish accent.

“It really not her fault,” Granny Bong interrupted, “She cannot hold her liquor, she never could.”

Libby had so many thoughts running through her head, but none she could speak aloud.

“It was unfortunate,” Libby finally replied, mirroring the formality of her Mother.

Just then lightning and thunder roared and all the lights in the house went out. Leaving them in the dark.

“Spooky!” Granny Bong announced, “I better go check on kids.” she shuffled off to check on them, then turned to Cho, “We not finished yet. You come see me again.”

Lady MacGillivray nodded, “Yes, Eomeoni.”

Libby got up and lit a few candles over the fireplace.

“Well, Elspeth, I am not here for a lengthy visit. I know it is New Year’s Eve and you probably have big plans with that young Gentleman of yours. He is a good man, Grahame. I have seen him do amazing things for this place and the community.”

Libby did not need her approval and stopped herself from an angry response….”Actually we have no plans tonight. We’ve had a busy Christmas with the kids. Just keeping it quiet until we open this place back up in the New Year.”

“How long have you been without guests?” Cho asked.

“Since we arrived in October, there have been no outside guests. We are following the guidelines and restrictions. Taking time for a reset on the entire scheme of things, before going forward. We felt this was a good time to shut it down and start fresh in 2021.”

“I see.” Cho held back the thoughts in her head and changed the subject entirely, “Well Lord MacGillivray and I would like to extend an open invitation to Castle Stuart. You and your family are always welcome in our home.” she stood to exit.

“As you are in ours,” Libby responded awkwardly, walking her to the door.

“Lovely to see you Elspeth.”

“Okay…Goodbye then.”

Libby stood behind the closed door, so many unresolved emotions churning. Granny Bong returned, “What the hell was that?” she heard Cho’s departing words echo down the dark hallway.

“I have no idea.” Libby really was perplexed by her Mother’s lack of emotion, and it all hit her at once. Tears came and she wiped them with her sweater sleeve.

“No, no don’t let her do that,” Granny Bong came and hugged Libby. “Go see Grahame. I will stay with the kids.”

“Thank you Halemeoni.”

*******************************

Two Weeks Later…

It was a cold snowy evening at Duchray Castle and Libby was upstairs reading to the boys. Grahame snuck up the back stairs, he was a bit early to collect Libby for their date. But he wanted to say goodnight to the kids before they left. As he approached the twins bedroom door he could see an animated Libby excitedly reading from a Dr. Suess book.

Then down from below In the great turtle stack Came a burp from a plain Little turtle named Mack, just part of the throne this burpin’ little turtle looked up and said “I beg your pardon King Yertle, I’ve pains in my back my shoulders and my knees how long must we stand here your majesty please” “Silence !” the king of the Turtles barked back to the bad burpin’ little turtle named Mack, “I’m Yertle the turtle Oh marvelous me for I am ruler of all that I see…

Grahame smiled when he heard Libby changing voices to match each character. As he lurked in the hallway he felt a tug on his jacket sleeve, he turned around to see Iris with her finger over her lips, instructing he not give her away.

He knelt down to her level and whispered, “What are you doing out of bed young lady?”

“I always sneak out to listen to the boys’ story after Mommy reads to me,” she whispered back, “I love stories.” Iris was melting Grahame’s heart as usual.

“Alright then, shhh. You can hear the rest but then off with you to bed. A young lady needs her beauty sleep,” he winked.

Iris hugged his arm and smiled, then they both stood quietly in the hall until Libby finished the book. Iris tip toed back to her room and Grahame blew her a kiss goodnight.

Libby went to turn the boys light out and was startled by Grahame’s presence.

“Sorry, just wanted to say Goodnight to the fellas before we head out,” Grahame waved to Angus and Paisley. “How does ice fishin’ sound in the mornin’ Lads?”

“Sounds great!” Angus cheered. “Sounds Cold, but great,” Paisley was less enthused.

Grahame laughed, “Well get your rest. I’ll be wakin’ ya soon enough.”

“Ice fishing? Are you sure they are old enough to handle that?” Libby raised an eyebrow.

“Never too soon to learn such a hobby, they’ll love it.”

********

Grahame drove down the long snowy drive past his Gatehouse, and onto the main road.

“Hey where are we going? I thought we were headed to your Cottage.” Libby was confused, date nights were limited with the new Level 4 restrictions in place, and she was getting use to Grahame’s as the go to spot for alone time.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes, we are off for a proper date. A friend of mine owes me a favor and as he owns one of the best gastro pubs in all of the Trossachs, I figured he might be game for some private guests.”

“Are we allowed to dine in?” Libby was getting excited.

“Well there’s only you and I. He and his wife will be serving us, so two households, in complete compliance with the order.”

“Wow, why didn’t we think of this sooner, a real restaurant. I can hardly wait.”

“You will love the Wild Boar burger, it’s amazing.” Grahame couldn’t wait either.

“Wild Boar?” Libby laughed, “Another Scottish delicacy I’m sure I can live without.”

“You don’t know what y’er missin’ Lass,” Grahame was keeping his eyes on the road as the snow became more dense.

Soon he saw the turn off and pulled up to the white stone pub, covered in a thick dusting and adorned with twinkle lights and warmly lit windows. There was smoke coming from the small chimney which made the place all the more inviting.

Grahame opened the pub door for Libby and they were greeted by a very friendly cattle dog called Lucy. Jack and Caren came forward as well, “Hello mate, come on in. We have your table ready for you. Clean and sanitized of course,” Jack waved them over to a cozy booth by the fireplace, while Grahame made introductions.

“Thanks much for having us,” Grahame nodded.
“Yes, this is a real treat,” Libby was taking off her big coat.

“Lovely to meet you Libby,” Jack presented his wife, “Caren and I have heard lovely things about you.”

“Oh have you?” Libby raised an eyebrow, “Well I’ve heard this is the best Gastro Pub in all the Trossachs!”

“He does not lie,” Jack had no need to be modest.

“I’m sure it must be hard on a place like this during Covid.” Libby added.

“Times are crazy, we are very happy for the company. Gets lonely out here without our regulars,” Caren confessed, handing them both menus.

“Can I fetch ya something from the bar,” Jack offered.

“I’ll have the usual.”

“Camden Hells lager comin’ up,” Jack smiled, “and for you Miss?”

Libby quickly glanced the drinks section and made a hurried choice, “Orchard Pig Cider?”

“Perfect choice,” Jack was off to get things started.

Caren came by with an appetizer to tide them over, “Haggis bon bons with neep puree, Glengoyne single malt whisky & heather honey glaze” she set them down and hurried back into the kitchen.

Libby had a horrified look on her face, more Haggis Balls in a fancy disguise.

“Go on, they are delicious,” Grahame coaxed.
Libby reluctantly put one on her plate and took a small bite.

“Well?” Grahame was impressed that she at least tried it again.

“Wow,” Libby took another off the platter, “These are really good.”

“Told you.”

Libby was wishing there were more, but she knew she had to share the rest with Grahame.

“So you up for Wild Boar now?” Grahame teased.

“I’m not that adventurous. I think I’ll stick with the fish and chips.”

**************

As the night wore on, each course was more delicious than the next and the cozy atmosphere, truly pleasant.

Close to midnight, Jack invited them both over to the house, which was behind the pub to try some new whisky he’d been sent from one of his vendors.

It did Libby good to finally meet some of Grahame’s friends and learn more about him by way of the stories they shared of living in these parts pre-pandemic. Apparently Grahame and Jack were long time poker buddies, and did pretty well in a few local tournaments.

The boys drank in to the wee hours and the snow was not getting any lighter, so Libby and Caren decided to leave them be as they fell asleep on the lounge sofas.

Caren led Libby into the kitchen, “Can I make ya some tea? I don’t think you’ll be goin’ anywhere soon.”

“Sounds lovely,” Libby smiled, “And I cannot believe I’m not even tired.”

“I’m a night owl myself,” Caren put the kettle on, “I also read tea leaves and do a bit of Tarot, would you like me to read for you?”

“Sure, I love that kind of thing,” Libby was completely open to it. “My Grandmother she’s a bit of Korean mystic herself, when she was young she was what they call a Saju reader. She can read faces and palms.”

“Lovely,” Caren was impressed, “Do you have the gift as well?”

Libby laughed, “I wish. I know a little bit about palm reading, but not enough to really tell you anything worthwhile.”

Caren laughed and pulled her deck of cards down from the kitchen hutch, “Okay let’s start with the cards while the tea brews.”

Libby pulled her chair closer to the kitchen table, and propped herself up to pay close attention. Caren spread the deck out into a fan, and explained, “I don’t really stick to traditional layouts. I sort of go in threes, so if you choose three cards I read those all together, then the next three and so on.”

“Ahh ok,” Libby nodded.

“Go on and choose three cards, turn them face up please.”

Libby pulled one from the far right, one from the middle and one from the opposite end, as she flipped them they revealed, the two of cups, the Lovers and finally the three of Pentacles.

“Wow!” Caren looked truly amazed, “Well, well, well you have definitely found a great and lasting love here. These cards spell out true love if ever I saw it. Two of cups represent unity and partnership, a really meant to be connection and the Lovers, yeah so that is as obvious as can be, perfect union here. The three of pentacles shows us that you don’t just have a soul and body connection but one of the mind and heart as well. You make a perfect team in business and pleasure…”

Libby was completely blushing now. Of course Caren knew enough to know she and Grahame were now business partners as well as lovers, but these cards did seem pretty indisputable.

Caren went on to interpret the relationship “So easy, as if you’ve known each other all of your lives. A definite soul mate match if you ask me.”

Libby was smiling, as she chose three more cards and flipped them.

Queen of Swords reversed, The Empress, and Four of Wands.

“Oh boy, Mother issues huh?” Caren got straight to the point, and Libby knew this was not something she could have previously known.

“First card states you’re dealing with some cold hearted bitterness, you feel your Mother to be cruel and apathetic. She presents herself here as the Empress,” Caren put her dainty finger on the Empress card, “something of royalty, to be looked upon but not spoken to directly. Inside she struggles with a deep emptiness. She longs to be loved but does not know how to love, because she truly does not love herself. Leaving her children to feel lack of support, causing great conflicts in the home.”

“Whoa, you totally nailed that one, ” Libby was floored.

“It’s all in the cards love, I only read the meanings.” Caren rose to bring the tea pot over and pour them each a cup. “Do you take any cream or sugar?”

“A little sugar please,” Libby was dazed, still thinking on what Caren just told her about her Mother. She stared at the Empress card thinking how accurate the image was, it mimicked her Mother’s posture perfectly, so poised and regal. Yet, in the pit of her stomach, Libby could empathically feel the emptiness and loveless pain her Mother must be experiencing, and it made her overwhelmingly sad all of a sudden.

“Are you okay?” Caren could tell Libby was in deep thought.

“It’s just that my Mother has become something of an issue since I moved to Scotland and I have been wondering what to do about the situation.”

“Well then, pull three cards for your answer Love,” Caren handed her the tea cup and saucer. “Let’s do a spread I call. Situation, action called for and best outcome.”

Libby pulled a card for the situation; Five of Wands, the action called for; Six of Swords, and the best outcome; Nine of cups.

Caren took a long sip of her tea, holding the cup with both hands, her sweater sleeves down to her knuckles, and she stared at the cards a long time before speaking, “Okay, well as I see it this conflict stems from a long formed rivalry or competition almost. Perhaps jealousy on your Mother’s part to an extent, that feeds her insecurities where you are concerned. She may have always been competing with you somehow, even if you were unaware. And now, ” Caren lifted up the Six of Swords and waved it about, “This card calls you to action. You have to become the initiator to break down the wall, you are going to have to hash away at all that old baggage and really cut through to the heart of the matter, look at your unresolved issues and see that you are actually the one who is resisting a full transition here. It truly is the time to leave the past behind and move on.”

“Wow, I’m kind of blown away, all of this is really resonating deeply Caren, wow. Thank you so much!” Libby took a sip of her tea and shook her head in amazement.”

And the best outcome my Dear is this, ” Caren pushed the nine of cups toward Libby, “Pure emotional satisfaction, stability and I would even go so far as to say peace at last.”

**************************

Duchray

Libby managed to rouse Grahame just past 5 am. Much groggier then she was, he handed over the keys and they drove straight to the Castle. The snow was light and the roads somewhat cleared. Not a bit of light shone through, yet the entire world seemed a crystalline Narnia white.

“Are you sure you want to take the boys fishing today? You’re gonna freeze your asses off,” Libby was giving him an out.

“I gave them my word. I don’t wanna be the man who disappoints.” Grahame’s head was leaning against the icy window, “I’m use to the cold. They’ll have to start shedding their California sensibilities soon enough.”

Libby smiled, “I guess we all need to toughen up a bit. But my plan is to stay home by the fire with Iris and finish our backgammon game. That’s a fine winter sport in my book.”

Grahame looked over and shook his head with a grin.

Not but an hour later, Grahame came round and collected the boys, leading them on foot to a magical spot by the river that he dubbed, The Bewitchin’ Pool.

“Keep your eyes out for the Little People. They are quite fond of this place.” Grahame had a twinkle in his eye as he set the tone for their adventure.

“Little People? You mean like the guys in the Wizard of Oz?” Angus asked.

“Sort of like that,” Grahame replied, “Do you know much about Fairies?”

“Only the ones Iris plays with,” Paisley was a true believer, “But they are fake, I hope we see the real kind.”

“Like I said Lad, eyes open,” Grahame spied the perfect spot to set up their poles. “Ah here we are, some nice rocks for sittin’. Whose ready to sit still and be very very quiet for a seriously long time?”

“Suddenly this doesn’t sound that much fun anymore,” Angus quipped.

“The rocks are covered in snow. Our pants are gonna be soaked.” Paisley hated the feeling of wet clothes.

“I’ve got ya covered,” Grahame opened up his full gear camping back pack and removed three tightly folded water proof tarps. He laid them out on adjacent stones, “Get comfy boys, and I’ll show you how to hook the worms.”

“Cool,” Angus suddenly liked fishing again.

The boys could not help but chatter, they were excited as this was the first time they’d ever been fishing, let alone, fishing in the snow.

“Shhh, boys. You’re scarin’ the fish.” Truth was, Grahame’s hangover was starting to kick in and his head was pounding.

The boys nodded and did their best to be quiet. “How will we know when there is a fish?” Angus whispered.

“Ahh, you will know, you will feel a great tug, so hold tight and I’ll help ya reel it in.”

Angus was ready, he gripped his rod and looked intently at the water.

Paisley was scanning the opposite bank for fairies, he was sure he heard a twig snap in that direction.

A good amount of time passed and the boys remained quiet. Grahame was zoning out due to the cold and his extreme fatigue, when suddenly Angus screamed, “I’ve got one! Help!”

Grahame jumped up and took the pole, dramatically reeling in a big splashy Trout. Angus was quite thrilled and Paisley leapt up from his rock to see the fish up close, inching so close that the fish slapped him in the eye with his tail and startled him, in a flash he slipped off the snowy embankment, “Whoa, Hellllp!!”

Paisley sunk into the deep river and was pulled down stream, over the waterfall, where the water was too deep for him to get his footing, and the branches too icy to grab hold of. Grahame dropped the fish and quickly followed along the embankment trying to grab Paisley’s hand, but the current had him and was moving too fast. Paisley’s heavy coat was weighing him down, and he began swallowing the freezing water. Grahame had no choice, he had to go into the river after him. He shouted back to Angus, “Get help!”

Angus wide-eyed, did not want to leave his brother, but began to run up the slippery slope toward home.

The river had a force of it’s own. Grahame was pushing as hard as he could to reach Paisley, who had gone under, hitting his head on a sharp rock.

Grahame panicked as he saw blood rising to the surface of the water, “No, God no.” He plunged his face into the icy water and opened his eyes to see Paisley now wedged between two rocks. He forced his way over to the boy, grabbing hold of his leg, he freed him from the rocks and with his other hand took hold of a tree root pulling them both over to the side. Suddenly he felt a miraculous push of water sending them up to a shallow shelf just below the river bank. Here Grahame could hoist himself and the boy up out of the water. Finally they emerged, on top of a rock. Paisley was unconscious, and his forehead bleeding. Grahame began CPR and kept at it until the boy coughed and spit, but he never opened his eyes. Grahame picked him up and carried him back to the Castle, praying they hadn’t lost him, he was so cold and blue.

As Grahame came to the road, he could see Libby running towards them, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

*****************

Paisley and Libby were in a small room at Forth Valley Royal Hospital, the Ambulance could only allow one person to accompany him, due to Covid restrictions, so Grahame and the others nervously waited back at the Castle. It had been hours without a word. Any word at all would be welcome.

Grahame was completely beside himself, blaming himself and going over and over again what he could have done differently.

“It was accident,” Granny Bong put her hand on his shoulder, “You need to eat something. I am sure Libby will call with good news and then you will have to go get them. Please just eat,” Granny had made Korean dumplings in beef broth and held a bowl out for Grahame. Despondently he took the bowl and ate to appease her.

Iris and Angus were already eating quietly, at the kitchen table. The sadness and the silence were almost too much to take. Granny left the room to find a phone and some privacy.

“Don’t worry Grahame,” Iris whispered, “this isn’t the first time Paisley almost died, it’s the third. He always comes back.”

Grahame half smiled, and continued eating his soup, “Has he got Nine lives then?”

“Yep, he fell off the diving board and hit his head last summer, had to get about twenty stitches,” Angus began, “Then he was attacked by bees at school when he was five, that’s how we found out he’s allergic to bees.”

Suddenly Grahame’s pocket buzzed, it was his phone, and it was Libby.

“Libby?” Grahame sounded desperate.

“He regained consciousness in the ambulance. The paramedics said the CPR saved his life. They’ve been running tests all morning to make sure he doesn’t have any lingering effects from the loss of oxygen. I think you got him out in the nick of time, any longer and, well I just cannot imagine.” Libby’s voice cracked with emotion, “We are just waiting for the doctor to come back with the results, and the Nurses are here keeping a close eye on him.”

“I am so sorry. God, I hope you can forgive me,” now Grahame’s voice was faltering.

“It was an accident Grahame, he’s fine now. Oh, the Doctor’s here, I’ll call you back.” Libby hung up abruptly.

Grahame let out a heavy sigh of relief, and smiled toward Iris and Angus, “Your brother is alright, he’s going to be fine.”

“I knew it,” Iris beamed.

*****

The elderly Doctor sat down on the end of Paisley’s hospital bed and with his very thick Scottish accent announced, “You’ve escaped a brush with the Devil Lad, I hope you’ll be more careful near the River now that you’ve tasted it.”

“Were the tests ok?” Libby was anxious.
“We don’t see anything wrong at all, but keep him awake the rest of the day, he’s got a nasty bump on his noggin’ there.” the Doctor then handed over a paper with information on what to watch for with a concussion.

Paisley’s wound had been cleaned and bandaged, and he was on some pain medication. “He’s been unusually quiet,” Libby announced to the Doctor.

“I’m just listening,” Paisley spoke up, “My head feels okay now, it hurt before.”

Libby laughed, “So can we go Doctor, or do you need him here longer for observation?”

“I’ll send the nurse in with your release papers, you should be out of here in an hours time.”

“Thank you Doctor.”

Libby texted Grahame letting him know he could come pick them up. Then she sat down on the bed with Paisley and put her hand on his cheek, “You really had me scared there Buddy.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Paisley craned his neck to see that the Doctor had gone, and then began to speak excitedly, “I couldn’t tell you before, with all the people around, but I saw Daddy and he had a message for you.”

“What?” Libby gasped.

“I died Mommy. I was really truly in Heaven and I saw Daddy! He helped Grahame save me!”

Libby couldn’t breathe or speak, she just listened.

“The water was so cold, and I hated it. So I left the water. I was standing on the other side of the river and I saw Grahame running and calling to me, then I saw him dive in. We were in there a long time, but I was really with Daddy. And he was shining as bright as the sun. He hugged me and I wanted to go with him, to be with him forever but he said, “No, you have to go back.”

Libby had tears dripping from her eyes. She wiped at them with her sleeve, “And then what happened?” she was smiling as she cried.

“Daddy was in the water with us, and he pushed us both up and out. I tried to grab his hand, but it was gone, he told me “I’m always here. I love you all.”

“Wow,” Libby hugged Paisley, “You’ve been keeping that story in this whole time?”

“Yeah,” Paisley laughed, “And his message to you was, Be Happy”

Libby was speechless, there was no way Paisley knew those were Rob’s last words in his letter to her, she never read the letter to the kids. There was no doubt everything Paisley had experienced was real.

************************************

The following day the snow had all but melted, still it was windy and frigid up at the castle. Libby was so relieved to have Paisley home safe and sound, they were all huddled together in their pajamas around the big fireplace in the family dinning room. Usually when they were all in the same room at the same time Patches and Mitzi would join them on the sofa.

“Where are the dogs?” Libby was looking around to see if they found a corner to snuggle in.
“I haven’t seen them since yesterday,” Angus answered, “I thought they were in Granny Bong’s room.”

“I fed them last night, then went to bed. They no sleep with me, I thought they sleeping with kids.”

“Okay guys time to search the castle. Paisley you stay here, you need to rest. Angus and Iris look upstairs. Granny and I will look downstairs.” Libby got up and began to search, but before she could leave the room she glanced out the window and caught site of something moving down in the drive way. It was Mitzi, Patches and Amos all frolicking outside.

“Oh my God! Who let the dogs out? LIbby b-lined for the drive way. The kids all got up to look out the window, “It’s okay Mommy they are having fun!” Iris did not want anyone to get in trouble for the doggy shenanigans going on outside.

When Libby got to the back door it was ajar and cold air was blowing through the boot room into the kitchen. “Mitzi!! Patches!!” she called, “Come here!!”

Just then she saw Grahame walking up the drive way, calling “Amos! Amos!!”

Libby scooped up her two little dogs and greeted Grahame, “I don’t know how these guys got out. The back door was wide open and we’ve all been upstairs, haven’t even been down for breakfast yet.”

“Was the back door unlocked?” Grahame was putting a lead on Amos.

“We never really lock it,” Libby admitted, “I always figure you’re the only one coming and going.”

“Well then mystery solved. Amos here was out before I rose, and he’s recently discovered how to press down latches. “Bad boy Amos!” he teased toward his naughty dog.

“Well I guess you’ll have to start using the key,” Libby smiled, “I’m just glad they stuck to the drive way. We’d never find them if they took off into the forest.”

“True,” Grahame was relieved, they did not need any further drama at the moment.

“Brr, it’s cold out here, come on in, I will make us some coffee,” Libby and Grahame and the dogs all went inside.

“How’s Paisley today?” Grahame hung Amos’ lead on Mrs. Cooper’s apron hook. And took off his heavy coat.

“He seems just fine. I had him sleep in my bed, so I could keep close watch.” Libby was wearing her night clothes, a white thin t-shirt tied in a knot at the waist and black yoga pants. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she hadn’t a stitch of make up on, so all her freckles were showing.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am, we should have never gone fishin’…”

“Shh, Grahame, please do not hold any guilt. If I’ve learned anything as a parent it’s that you can’t lock them in a closet until they are eighteen, life is risky, things happen. You only had good intentions and damn, you saved his little life out there.” Libby pushed the button on the coffee maker and took a seat next to Grahame on the dinning bench. She put her arm around his green plaid shirt, and whispered, “Do you know what he told me?”

Grahame leaned in, “What?”

“He said he had died in the water, and he watched you dive in to save him, he saw it all from the riverbank. He said Rob was there too, and that Rob pushed you both out of the river.”

Grahame was in silent awe, every hair on his neck raised and a chill went through his body, “Oh my God.”

“I believe him.” Libby added.

“I felt him.” Grahame continued, “When we were under the water, the current was driving us away from the bank and there was a mighty push that came from nowhere, it lifted us both up like a wave and took us to safety.” Grahame shook his head. “It was amazing, felt like a force of nature.”

“Wow.” Libby squeezed Grahame’s hand.

“Truly a miracle then.” Grahame was still in awe.

“The best kind of miracle,” Libby smiled.

Libby got up to pour the coffee, and there was a small knock at the back door. “Who could that be?” Libby looked out the kitchen window and saw the Rolls Royce and driver.

“My Mother is here.” Libby handed Grahame his cup of coffee, then went to the back door and opened it.

“Elspeth, your Grandmother told me about your boy, so I came to see if he is alright. You can send me away if I am disturbing you, but…”

Libby did not give Cho time to finish her sentence, instead she threw her arms around the fur clad woman and hugged her tightly.

Tears formed as she said the words, “It’s okay Mother, come in. I just want us all to be happy.”

****************

The End. Written by Christine Wichman c. January 24, 2021

photos taken from Pinterest and google search.
Some content taken from The Duchray Castle Website
All characters and names are fictional.