Anna had booked a room at the Jurys Inn in Glasgow where she had stayed before. It was not the most glamorous hotel but its central location was convenient for all the places she might want to go on this short visit.
She felt a nagging sense of frustration and impatience that had nothing to do with the bustling streets and colder weather of a big city. She had not come to Glasgow on holiday. Her mission was to try to track down information about her parents’ life before they had emigrated to Canada.
Her frustration arose from the fact that Lawren would not be joining her for several days. Hearing about his disappointing attempt to find the former home of his father in Wiltshire had upset her terribly. At this distance she could not do anything about it other than to keep in touch daily by phone. What she really needed was up close and personal contact with him. The week they had been apart was stretching into a decade in her mind. She was still amazed at how quickly her relationship with Lawren was developing into a necessity for her wellbeing. She frequently cautioned herself not to get too lost in the needy side. She knew this was a female tendency and a contributing factor in the failure of her marriage to Richard.
“I am not that naïve young girl any more,” she lectured her image in the hotel’s mirror. “I know the pitfalls of loving too soon and too unwisely but time is against us at this point in our lives and I don’t want to waste a single minute of it.”
She turned back to packing her slouchy black leather handbag for a day out. She had to keep herself busy otherwise worry about Lawren would undo her resolve. She pictured him exploring Wiltshire and drawing busily as a distraction from the failure of his hopes about the family mansion there. She knew he had fostered dreams of tracing his father’s English family and perhaps acquiring the finances his own artistic endeavours had always made so elusive.
This was another worry for Anna. She blamed herself for his wild goose chase. If he had not been so concerned about the disparity in their living standards, the journey into his past would not have assumed such importance.
She sighed for the umpteenth time this morning and smiled briefly, remembering the strange word that was one of her mother’s favourites when she was upset about some delay or other. The Scottish side of Anna always seemed to come to the fore when she was hearing Scottish voices around her.
“Well, I hope my search for family information will be a tad more successful than Lawren’s has been.
I will try the Mitchell Library and the Records Offices today. The City Hall in George Square is my first stop. It’s close to Strathclyde University’s Technical College and I won’t return to this room until I have some evidence to work with.”
So saying, she hefted her purse with its burden of paper, pens, small change for copying machines and an assortment of gloves, scarves and a mini umbrella. Nothing would impede her progress this day; not weather, or fatigue or distractions. She let the heavy door slam behind her and marched down the hallway to the elevators with determination in her step.
Many weary hours later, an exhausted Anna Mason dragged herself into a restaurant near the entrance to The Prince’s Square. She had had every intention of walking the short distance back to her hotel but part way down Buchanan Street her feet gave out and she knew a rest and some sustenance were essential if she was not to faint from overexertion.
The lunch-time crowd had gone and only one table was occupied by two women whose heads were close together signifying that secrets of some kind were being shared over large glasses of wine.
Anna cast around for a secluded table with comfortable seats and when she found one she was prepared to be ignored by waiters until she had divested herself of coat, scarf and shoes and spread out some of the copies she had obtained during her day’s search.
It took only a few moments of scanning the documents to confirm what she had already believed. There was information to be gathered if you knew the right sources to approach. A librarian at the Mitchell had been most helpful once Anna’s years as a teacher and librarian in Canada had been casually mentioned. It turned out that Sheila’s auntie lived in Toronto and Sheila herself was an admirer of the Toronto Public Library System to which she gravitated on frequent visits to Auntie Mary.
That connection established, Sheila proved to be a fount of knowledge about accessing records of births, deaths, marriages and assorted related professional records which she magically produced from distant computer terminals located all across the city and even in Edinburgh.
Anna gladly paid the nominal fees and collected up sheaves of paper. She took a distinct, black, British cab from the library to George Square after she felt the weight of her handbag. One thing she did not want to miss was the interior of Strathclyde University. It was where both her mother and father had studied in their late teenage years and most likely where they had first met.
As soon as she saw the entrance close to George Square, she remembered dropping Fiona off at this very spot when she sat her high-school equivalent exams. Strange, she thought, how a place has a role to play in people’s lives over a generation or two, and across oceans.
The university was not noticeably different in style from the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education or, for that matter, the newer buildings at London’s Western University. It was set at the foot of a steep hilly street and Anna remembered Lawren’s description of The Glasgow School of Art which must be nearby because of a similar setting. There were, however, no Art Deco touches inside here that she could see.
She decided to bypass the crowded information desk and sidled over to the walls to read some of the bronze award plaques. She was casually scanning names while listening to the hum of young voices in the foyer and thinking how similar the buzz was to any large educational institution anywhere in the world; ambitious young people with their lives ahead of them and plans to make for the rest of the school year that had recently begun.
Suddenly her attention was drawn to a familiar name on one of the boards.
Distinguished Service Medals Awarded to Students of The Royal College of Science and Technology in the wars of the 20th Century.
Listed alphabetically was the name Kyle Andrew Purdy. Army Corps: 1941-46.
Two things struck Anna at that moment. First; that this must be the Kyle Purdy who was her father Angus’ best friend, and best man at her parents’ wedding. Kyle Purdy had married Isobel who was Philip’s mother, although he must have known that Philip’s father was Angus McLeod.
So, he was a decorated soldier, a man of some compassion, and a man from whom Philip had fled at an early age.
Second; the university must have had a different name in those days and perhaps an entirely different appearance.
One thing was certain. She had found the place where the family drama had begun long ago.
Anna considered this a good sign. A name from the past had appeared before her eyes. So far she had reason to believe that this search was not going to be as problematic as she had initially feared.
Encouraged by this new coincidence, Anna set off, down the busy pedestrian way that was Buchanan Street, on her journey back to the Jurys Inn. With each step, the bag she was carrying grew heavier and her feet, in the most sensible shoes she owned, were beginning to throb.
“It’s that trans-Atlantic flight to blame,” she murmured, as she gave up at The Prince’s Square.
Once settled there, she was confronted with the evidence she had hoped for. Reams and reams of it!
She pushed the pile aside and coughed loudly until a waiter caught sight of her in her secluded spot.
The only food available at this time of day was afternoon tea, so Anna ordered that and returned to her bounty.
Where many others would be overwhelmed by such a task, Anna Mason pushed up the sleeves of her wool sweater and began to organize the papers into piles. This required the use of an adjacent table which she co-opted without delay. These convenient round tables allowed for an efficient use of space and a few steps in stockinged feet permitted quick access. Order was made from chaos in a remarkably few minutes by adopting a naming category after the pertinent names were highlighted in neon yellow by a marker from the depths of Anna’s purse.
“Will I set the tray down on a third table for you Madam?”
Anna had not noticed the waiter standing by her side until he spoke up.
“Yes, that would be most satisfactory,” she replied, crisply. She did not apologize and decided to give him a good tip if he refrained from further implied criticism.
A brief break to consume scones liberally spread with strawberry jam and fresh butter, washed down with several cups of tea, brought Anna back to table one, refreshed and ready to summarize her findings.
Her mother’s side of the family had died out in Scotland. Simon’s family and Anna were the only remaining McLeod relatives in Canada. Philip was, of course, a half-brother to them but as he did not claim the McLeod name or have any children of his own, that line was not likely to supply any further descendants.
The most exciting news of the day’s research was that her father’s family had produced another son around the time when Angus had left Scotland to live in Canada. This younger son was named Ross and he was something of a celebrity in Glasgow as he had acquired a reputation as a builder of homes of distinction in the outlying districts of the city.
Anna stopped to take in this new information. Ross McLeod was her uncle.
She immediately wondered what, if anything, he knew about his older brother and the Canadian branch of the family. She was filled with the desire to see this unknown uncle and find out if there was a resemblance to her own father.
At the same time a rage smouldered within her. It would be a risk to contact this man and she might be rejected by him, but that very fear was what had held back previous generations. Helen Dunlop’s mother erased the memory of her lost, adopted child and never sought her out. Anna’s mother once ignored a plea from Helen to make a connection. Both Anna’s parents turned their backs on Scotland and their families there, because of the taint of scandal. Angus McLeod obeyed his wife’s demands and never tried to reach his son, Philip. Simon and Anna grew up without the knowledge of their heritage.
Now Lawren’s tragedy was added to the list. His parents fled to Canada rather than be split up by a domineering father.
As the catalogue of tragedies paraded before Anna’s inner eye, she groaned in exasperation. It was too late to mend the errors of past generations but she was utterly determined that this folly would end with her, and end soon.
No matter what the result, she would seek out, and meet with, Ross McLeod, her uncle.
The next thought that occurred was that the uncle would need to be alive for this noble task to be accomplished.
Anna chuckled at her own foolishness and she felt the tension release.
Was he still alive? If so, he would be considerably younger than her father. The necessity to answer this question, sent Anna back to the piles of papers arranged around the three restaurant tables. She lifted the tea tray, now considerably lighter since its contents had been consumed, and placed it on a fourth table leaving room for the appropriate copies to be perused.
She quickly shuffled through the birth certificates looking for the name, Ross McLeod, and found out that he would be in his early seventies. Not old by today’s standards and not far from her own age.
She had not asked for a death certificate, so that issue was still in limbo.
What if he had married? This avenue might be productive in more ways than one.
A marriage certificate was finally unearthed and indeed, Ross had married a Joyce Armstrong in the nineteen sixties.
Would they have had any children? If so, they would be first cousins to Simon and Anna. How wonderful if Anna found cousins not much younger than herself who would be a new link to Scotland for the rest of her life!
Brushing aside all thoughts of possible rejection, Anna turned back to the biography of Ross McLeod she had thrown down as soon as she had read the brief details about his building company, McLeod & Son.
Of course! That was a major clue she had missed. There must be one son at least.
Now she scanned the rest of the page and to her joy discovered a list of the children of Ross and Joyce.
Praise be! That lovely librarian at the Mitchell will get a free weekend in London, Ontario, for this excellent work, whenever she’s next in Toronto!
Anna’s hands shook as she read.
A son; Rory.
A daughter; Jocelyn.
A son; Murray.
A daughter; Heather.
“Madam, we need to be setting up these tables for the evening meals, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind one little bit,” said Anna, with a happy smile on her face. “There will be a handsome tip for you, young man, if you can help me carefully gather up all this paper in the piles you see here.”
No further incentive was required. In mere minutes the papers, clipped together in sections, were safely stowed in Anna’s capacious handbag and she was dancing out into Buchanan Street with renewed energy. She was already planning what she would tell Lawren that night during their phone call. He was due a good surprise for a change.
Back in the restaurant a comment was directed to the man polishing glasses behind the bar.
“Here, did you see that, Andy? They Americans are a weird lot all right but who cares when they tip this well. She can come back here any time and bags me her table. OK, pal?”
Anna woke the next morning with a headache and a fierce appetite. She had talked for too long on the phone the night before but she had desperately wanted to share her good news with Lawren.
By the time they had made their reluctant goodbyes, she was much too tired to eat, contenting herself with a squished chocolate bar she found in her purse, then falling into bed without taking the time to brush her teeth.
“Ugh! I feel awful and I look even worse! Thank heaven Lawren isn’t due to arrive in Glasgow for another day. I have a lot to do before then and the first thing is to shower and brush my teeth!”
Once she was feeling fresher, Anna had to deal with her rumbling stomach. She had sampled the breakfast that came with her room cost on a previous visit to the Jurys Inn and she knew she could eat to her heart’s content, sampling anything she wanted from the buffet. She collected a pen and writing pad from the bedside table, checked that her room key was in her pants pocket and, on an afterthought, picked up the phone book on her way out the door.
The restaurant was full of chattering guests when she arrived, but as there was a large tour bus idling at the side of the road outside the hotel, Anna knew things would quiet down soon. She chose a table in a far corner and waited. Sure enough, the place emptied like magic when the departure hour arrived. No tourists would take the risk of being left behind when their luxury coach took off for castles, mountains and lochs.
Anna sauntered around the buffet tables while the staff dutifully replenished fruit, yogurts, toast and coffee. A chef was stationed in the centre to dispense eggs, bacon and sausages but Anna poured herself piping hot coffee, set it on a tray and filled a large bowl with cereal and as much fruit as it would hold. The milk in Scotland was more like cream compared to the 1% variety she was used to in Ontario so the end result was like a luxury dessert.
The cereal took the edge off her hunger and the coffee perked up her spirits. Ignoring the plentiful local newspapers in favour of her pen and paper, Anna began to make a list of everything she needed to do before Lawren arrived.
- Contact Ross McLeod if possible and ask for a meeting.
- If he is unavailable for any reason, try to find his children.
- Call Alina and ask how things are going with Philip.
- Call Simon and update him.
- Tidy the hotel room before Lawren arrives.
- Wash hair and find a nice outfit.
- Remember to take a camera.
A quick re-read of her list made it obvious that she was distracting herself from the main objective. All the other items were dependent on a successful meeting with her uncle and that had to take priority.
“Right! This requires serious sustenance!”
She returned to the buffet and filled a large, warmed plate with two fried eggs, tomato, two sausages, mushrooms, and a slice of brown toast complete with butter and marmalade. She eschewed more coffee for fear of having to search for a washroom all morning, and chose instead a decaf tea.
Surprisingly, the feast did the trick and Anna left the breakfast room with renewed determination. Crossing the reception area, whose automatic doors revealed a blustery, rainy day on the Glasgow streets, she retreated to the café bar with windows looking out to the River Clyde. It was empty at this time of day and she could use her phone without disturbing anyone or being overheard.
The first order of business was to look up the phone number of McLeod & Son, builders.
She found a large advert in the yellow pages with a typical black and white, grainy picture of the two principals smiling broadly. She examined this closely and could not come to any conclusion as to a resemblance between Ross, Rory and her father, Angus.
There was nothing to do but call the office number supplied in the advert.
With fingers perspiring slightly, she called.
“Good morning. What can McLeod & Son do for you today?” It was obviously a young woman secretary who answered. Anna cleared her throat and replied, “Is it possible to speak to Mr. McLeod senior or to his son?”
There was a slight hesitation, then the cheerful voice resumed, “Mr. Ross McLeod is at the building site this morning but Mr. Rory McLeod is available. May I say what you wish to discuss?”
This was the tricky part and Anna had not prepared an answer. She said the first thing that came into her mind. “It’s a family matter. Please tell him my name is Anna McLeod Mason.”
“So, not a business concern then?”
“No, but it is important, and I do not have a great deal of time in which to make this contact.”
The line switched to some background elevator recording and Anna twisted in her seat while seconds ticked by. If she missed this opportunity there was no telling how long it might be before she could bring herself to try again.
“A family matter, you said?” Anna started to breathe again when the male voice came on the line.
“Yes, thank you for talking to me. You must be Rory McLeod? I have reason to believe we could be cousins. My father was a brother to your father. I did not know this until just yesterday and I am here from Canada and in Glasgow for only a short time. Is it possible for us to meet? I am anxious to find out if we are indeed related.”
Anna had rattled through this speech at a fast rate in case Rory, if it were he, should put down the phone in the midst of her impromptu speech.
“You’ll forgive me if I am a little hesitant, Ms. Mason? Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, I am pretty sure. I don’t have written proof with me at the moment as I was not expecting this turn of events when I began researching family history. I can have documents sent through the internet, if you wish.”
There was a long pause and Anna began to nibble at a hangnail. Say yes! Say yes!
“Well, I don’t see what harm it can do to meet. Can you make your way to my mother’s home and I will join you at lunch time?”
“Thank you so much.” The relief was clear in Anna’s tone.
What followed were details of an address. The location meant nothing to Anna but she carefully copied down the information for a cab driver. She imagined the interesting calls that were now speeding on their way between Rory and his mother and also, to his father.
Anna had time for a quick wash in her hotel room before she collected together some of her paperwork and found a coat and umbrella. A cab was ordered after a call from the convenient, dedicated line on the corner of the reception desk.
Just a few steps from the hotel entrance and she was safely inside the cab out of the wind and rain. She handed over the paper on which she had copied the home address and sat back to see where she would be heading.
The cab driver was one of the rare, silent Scots so she had time to look around as they sped through the city. The city centre’s stately Victorian buildings and busy one-way system began to merge into more leafy streets and upscale houses. Anna looked for clues as to the area they were entering but was not successful for a while. Rows of shops with unusual names and fancy restaurants distracted her until she saw the entrance to a large complex of buildings and read the sign: Glasgow University Campus.
“What area is this?” she asked.
“Kelvinside, Miss. We’ll be at your address soon.”
Anna felt the rush of excitement begin to die down inside her and stark reality begin to take its place.
Images of Helen’s sad story and, more recently, Lawren’s crashing disappointment haunted her. There was no way of knowing what lay ahead in the next few minutes. She would have to prepare herself for the worst case scenario. That way she would be armoured against the pain of rejection.