Past Ties

  The characters of Monarch Of The Glen are property of whoever owns them. BBC Scotland or whatever. I just borrowed them for this story and your reading pleasure. Other characters  that I made up are strictly that: made up. I don't know what other legal whatnot has to be here, but It's just a story, one I hope you enjoy, but a story none the less. Please e-mail feedback to me. It helps me get through this thing we call life. 

   "They’re late."

   Molly looked from her book at her son. Archie strode impatiently in front of her, arms crossed over his chest as he paced the living room floor, following the same path for the last half hour. He would stride to the large front windows, the cool Scotland morning greeting him smugly, before he would turn his back on it and head for the fireplace at the other end of the room, blindly looking at his watch before starting the episode all over again. Each time he peered at that empty driveway an annoying knot in his belly tightened, a knot that hadn't loosened since he took on the task of getting Glenbogle back on its feet. It would probably grow to an ulcer one day. He could feel it.

   The pacing made Molly sea-sick. She placed her book in her lap and addressed her youngest calmly. "Who’s late dear?"

   Archie had stopped near the window and looked out onto the gravel. He shook his head in annoyance. "Oh, the stupid journalists that are coming to do a write-up on the history of Glenbogle." Now he turned to look at his mother who sat, lost in the amongst the chair's frame. "Taking a few snap shots for their travel magazine."

  "And when did you organise this?"

   "Two weeks ago. Though they obviously don’t have the common courtesy to call if they are going to be late."

  Molly took off her glasses and watched her son resume his pacing. "This is the haunted house that Duncan thought up, is it not?"

   He stopped halfway across the room and shook his head. "No mother, absolutely not. This is history. With a guided tour to spice things up a bit. Get people interested. No one’s going to come and learn about history if it’s going to be just like in the classroom, are they?"

   Molly nodded in agreement. "True dear. Though I do like the odd ghost story myself. Telling tales of the people who have past, lost for eternity in limbo because of unfinished business." She giggled and pressed her book to her chest. "Oh, so much fun. Telling stories around campfires. You’d get a lot of schools in you know. The children would enjoy a night camping out in the haunted woods."

   Archie let out a small laugh, sounding more like a happy grunt than anything else. He shoved his hands down into his jean pockets and addressed his mother fully. "But you know that Father wouldn’t like it."

   "Oh of course not." Molly agreed. "But when have you ever worried about what your father thought? You’re doing your best dear, and he thanks you for that. That last thing he’d want is to see this place go under."

   "Even if it meant selling our souls to the commercial devil?"

   Molly nodded. "Even that dear. He’ll thank you in the end."

   T he Laird didn’t reply, only moving a touch to show his mother that he heard before dropping his eyes towards his shoes – brown hiking boots that fit snugly under his denim attire – admiring the floorboards that Lexie polished only last week, letting a silence drift between them both as his mind drifted to thoughts and wishes that he knew wouldn’t come true.

   A large rumble brought him back to the present. Gazing out the window he viewed a shiny silver sedan park itself in his driveway.

   Archie strode quickly towards the car, watching a woman emerge and smile kindly at him. He held out his hand in greeting as he reached her, saying the line he had greeted so many others with. "Goodmorning and welcome to Glenbogle."

   The woman grasped his hand firmly, nodding appreciatively at the handsome Laird. Archie took her in quickly, soft light brown curls fell down her back with a pair of thin rimmed glasses framing her eyes, her slim figure dressed in dark business suit contrasted with a crimson shirt underneath her blazer. Her voice spoke kindly, to the point, in a flat accent. "Thankyou for having me. You must be the Laird of this fine place?"

   "That’s right. Archie McDonald, I spoke to one of your colleges on the phone." he explained, remembering the man who he had spoke to not twenty-four hours before. He turned his gaze to the interior of the sedan, only to find nothing more than computer equipment and a suitcase. "So…where are your colleagues?"

   She didn’t look away from him as she stepped forward and shut the door or her car. "I don’t have any other colleagues."

   Archie blinked. "You’re it?"

   The woman nodded. "Is that a problem?"

   Archie didn’t know what to say. He had waited all morning for one woman, with barely enough equipment to do a thorough job at promoting the place. She turned away from him and opened the rear door, retrieving her belongings and placing them on the ground beside the car: her suitcase, laptop, camera and tripod all piled on top of each other.

   Archie took a breath and tried to sound calm. "It’s just that they said they were sending out a team to do a number of articles on this place. The history, the culture, the fun that can be had up at Glenbogle." He waved his arms around in an effort to emphasise point glorious place which he called home, but when he received nothing more than a raise of an eyebrow from the woman in front of him, his arms fell to his sides with a deflated slap.

   "I’m sorry Mr. McDonald." she replied, standing up and slamming the door. "But I’m all you’ve got."

   "Oh." Archie’s brow creased in worry as the knot pulled at him tighter. "But what about to the photographers? The journalists? This magazine placement is meant to give this place and the community a boost."

   "I am the photographer." she explained, nodding the tripod at her feet. "And the writer. And the person who will give this community the boost it needs. You needn’t worry about my expertise Mr McDonald."

   "Are you sure there isn’t anyone else appointed to help you?" Molly added, coming up from behind Archie after watching the whole scene.

   The woman smiled and shook her head. "I didn’t know my coming alone would be such a problem. Usually it’s the other way ‘round. To many journo’s and people get uptight."

   "I’m sorry if Archie sounded rude. It’s just…"

   "I expected more." he let out before he could help it.

   The woman let her eyes settle on the Laird as he let his gaze drop to the ground guiltily. "I guess I should be offended by that statement." Archie didn't reply, just shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets and look up apologetically. "But I assure you sir," she continued, feeling the aura of disappointment. "I never do a job half-arsed."

   Molly smiled, trying to keep this working relationship pleasant. "I’m sure you don’t. And we both have complete confidence in your abilities Miss...?"

   "McDade." The woman held out her hand for Molly to shake, which she did gently. "Evelyn McDade. Travel International."

   "McDonald." Molly replied, shaking and trying to be professional, pushing Archie aside. "Molly McDonald. Archie’s mother."

   The day had turned out quite pleasant. A crisp breeze blew across the many green fields which belonged to the Glenbogle estate, while the sun tried to escape from its cloudy cover before it was quickly covered once again. 

   Evelyn had trekked a fair way from the building, following a small pebble path that led down towards a small hut sitting quite lonesome in the middle of a paddock. The view was amazing, and the serenity unreal.

   "Can I help you?"

   She jumped and turned to face the voice that confronted her.

   "Hi." she greeted, looking at the young kilted man. He stood, shovel in his hand, watching her carefully as she smiled trying to ease him a little. "I’m just taking in the place. Getting a feel for it." she breathed in the cool air, letting the true cool atmosphere drift over them, making her statement even more real. "It’s beautiful."

   "Aye." Duncan agreed, walking over to her and looking out towards the endless fields and mountains. "You must one of the journalists Archie invited up here." he observed, looking her over. She smiled as he talked, hands crossed over her chest in an effort to keep her fingers warm.

   "Correction." she started, her gaze drifting out towards the horizon which zig-zagged across the littered mountains, a distinct crooked line between sky and earth. "I am THE journalist. Just me. Which, let me tell you, Mr McDonald wasn’t happy about."

   "Archie just doesn’t like surprises." Duncan informed, looking at her briefly before turning away when her gaze met his. "He’s under a lot of pressure."

   "Aren’t we all?"

   "I guess."

   They were both silent again and Duncan wondered if he should move on and leave her here by herself. But before he could decide she spoke up again, her voice direct. "So, what’s your job around here?"

   "I’m the Head Ranger." he explained, smiling proudly.

   "So you’d know your way around this place then?"

   "Oh Aye. Like the back of my hand."

   Evie nodded, biting her lip before turning to look at the ranger who now leaned to the shovel that was shoved into the ground, his eyes cast out at the mountains before they would dart to look at her, get scared and face the hills once again.    "Are you busy at the moment?"

   Duncan was cautious. "Why?"

   "Do you fancy showing me the sites of Glenbogle?"

   "Me?" Duncan asked. "Show you?"

   "Well, no one else seems to be taking up my offers. Mr McDonald seems too preoccupied with other duties, and also doesn’t trust my judgement. But, I would like an insider’s perspective on this estate. How about it?"

   Duncan smiled and nodded, pleased that he had a task, and an important one at that. He could now show the others he could handle responsibility.

   "Let me introduce myself." She started, uncrossing her arms and holding out her hand so that Duncan could shake her cold fingers. "Evie."

   He gripped tightly, squeezing warmth into her hand. "Duncan."

   Evie smiled and nodded in approval as they both started down the hill towards the mysteries of Glenbogle.







   "So what you’re saying is that Archie, didn’t want to be Laird at all? He was forced into it really?"

   Duncan nodded as he lead Evie down a steep path leading to a secluded waterfall at the end of the forest. The place felt closed in, trees so close that they left their dewy marks on their clothes as they brushed past, the smell of damp soil and leaves accompanying the explorers in the undergrowth. Evie ducked under branches that Duncan would throw about as he stomped through what seemed to be his native habitat, his kilt accompanied by a pair of hiking boots, knowing exactly where he was going and filling Evie in on all the details of Glenbogle and it’s occupants. "That’s right." he informed front in front of her. "Though I think he’s getting the hang of it now. It’s just hard trying to get this estate up and running. Hector didn’t keep it going financially and now Archie has to dig himself out of a hole. But he’s got all of us to help him."

   "You’re close?"

   "Oh yes." Duncan ducked under a branch, helping Evie under before letting it spring back into place. "We’re like family. Archie, Golly, Lexie and of course Molly and Hector."

   "Lexie’s the cook?"

   "Housekeeper technically."

   Evie stopped and watched Duncan duck under the branch. A small smile flitted across her face, dying as quickly as it came. "Really? How long has she been at Glenbogle."

   "Years. Left home when she was fifteen and Molly took her in. Been here ever since. Good Ol’ Lex." He stopped, turning quickly back to the journo, a look of panic on his face. "Don’t tell her I told you. You’re not going to write it in your magazine are you?"

   Evie managed a choke before replying. "Don’t be stupid. I don’t write trash gossip about people. I’m not with Who or New Weekly. I’m here to do an article on Glenbogle. Help Mr Laird get the tourists in. I doubt the history of the cook will help with that."

   Duncan sighed with relief, smiling goofily before pointing towards the destination they had now reached. Out in front of them a waterfall flowed magnificently into a large looking waterhole that sat beneath the canopy and the steep cliff on which she stood looking down on it. "This is it."

   Evie gasped, crossing her arms over her chest and taking in the view. "It’s beautiful."

   "I’ll say. Bit nippy in, but people swim if they choose too."

   "I think that’s when they call it refreshing."

   "If you look down further." Duncan started stepping closer to the edge. "You can sometimes see deer coming in to get a drink. The city folk get a lot out of these places."

   Evie stepped closer with him, her boots squishing softly into the mud. "I can see why. It truly is wonderful. You don’t realise how lucky you have it Duncan. People would kill to have treasures like this." she took another step closer to the edge, peering down into the water. Duncan jumped as she gave a little scream, her foot slipping from the edge as the ground they were both standing on gave way. Grabbing onto each other was the only thing they could think of as they toppled down the embankment along with the rest of the dirt before landing in the water with a frozen shriek.

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