Elegant red sandstone apartment buildings near a park, gave way to individual houses on a rise overlooking a river below. The cab drew up before a gate inscribed with intricate, wrought iron letters. Beyond this imposing entrance was a short driveway leading through well-established garden beds punctuated by handsome feature trees. The house seemed huge as it rose above the gardens. Its front doors were graced with stained glass windows.
Anna swallowed and prepared herself to be quizzed extensively. A family who lived in such a home would not take kindly to a stranger from far away insisting on a relationship. She must assure them as soon as possible that she wanted nothing from them other than information.
As she stood at the door, so deep in thought that she had not yet found a door bell or knocker, the doors opened and she was confronted by a small woman with a huge welcoming smile, who promptly dusted off her floury hands on her apron and beckoned Anna inside without enquiring as to her identity.
“Come away in! I’ve been baking as you can see. Ross loves my cheese scones and if I don’t get a batch done every morning there are complaints before bedtime.”
The woman, who Anna presumed to be Joyce McLeod, led the way into a spacious kitchen and pulled out a tall stool at a marble island counter. She went directly to a coffee machine, that Anna recognized as a very expensive Italian model, and poured two cups, which she then placed on the counter side by side with a tray of brown and white sugars, cream, milk and an assortment of pastries.
“Oh dear, I didn’t even take your coat yet! Awful weather, isn’t it? I guessed, with you being a North American, you would prefer coffee, but I can whip up tea in a second.”
Anna shrugged off her coat and placed it over the next stool in line at the counter noticing that there was plenty remaining space for a large group. She was thunderstruck at this welcome and temporarily unable to think of a response.
Her hostess recognized her discomfort and immediately launched into an explanation.
“I know I’m chattering away here. Ross says I’m like a runaway train once I get started!” She laughed uproariously and Anna could not resist an open smile at her honesty.
“The fact is, my dear, I am quite nervous about meeting you. It’s been some years since we found out about my husband’s older brother and to finally meet his daughter after all this time……….well! I am a bit gobsmacked and that’s the truth!”
She stopped dead and a silence fell which allowed Anna to focus on her face for the first time. She was a lovely woman crowned with silver-grey, abundant hair springing from her forehead with the same energy of the woman herself. She had a cheerful face that welcomed smiles and was blessed with the fine complexion of the Scot who has lived in a moist climate.
Relief flooded Anna’s heart and she reached forward and did the only thing that seemed appropriate. She wrapped her arms around the woman and hugged her close.
“Joyce, I can’t thank you enough for this warm welcome to your home. I had no reason to believe you would be so generous as to accept me so fast. I confess I am on the verge of tears now. Finding my father’s family when I had no idea there was anyone left has been very emotional for me.”
“Now don’t you cry, Anna! You’ll set me off and the children all complain that I am the original waterworks. They won’t go to a weepy film with me no matter what I threaten, or promise.”
Anna smiled again and wiped her eyes. This happy woman, so aptly named, was what her own mother should have been if her life in isolation had not been so difficult.
“Joyce, may I drink this delicious coffee now? The smell of these cheese scones is driving me crazy!”
“Of course! We have a lot to catch up on before Rory arrives for his lunch. Help yourself to anything you want and I’ll fill in some of the details for you.”
As Anna sipped coffee and tasted a marzipan concoction with a checkered pattern of pink and white cake inside the sweet edging, Joyce’s voice filled the kitchen and turned the dull morning light into a rainbow of understanding in Anna’s mind and heart.
“You see, Anna, Ross was born a few months after your father and mother left Scotland for Canada.
I fancy your Dad never knew his mother was expecting. In those days a late-life baby was not so welcome in a family and a woman would have kept it quiet in case something went wrong with the pregnancy. This is what made Angus’ father so angry when his son confessed that he had made one girl pregnant and was running away with a different girl. Can you imagine the shock of it all? His wife was expecting a child. His son had fathered a child at the same time and was prepared to leave that girl in the lurch and flee far away.
Of course, we never knew any of this when Ross and I got married. His father was what the Scots call ‘a hard man with a drinking problem’. Angus McLeod’s name was never spoken in their home and Ross grew up thinking he was an only child. It was much later, when Ross’ mother was in failing health that we found out the true story.
I want to tell you that story, Anna, if you can stand it.”
“Oh, please do, Joyce. I have been living in the dark for so many years and now you are shedding light on so many forbidden areas for me.”
Anna settled back and listened as her Aunt Joyce filled in a lost part of Anna’s family history.
“Ross and I took Catherine, his mother, on a tour of Scotland one autumn. It was what she had begged for and we all knew it was for the last time. She longed to see the sights and sounds of her youth. We were travelling up the west coast and we came over the hill above Eilean Donan, the lovely MacRae castle at the joining point of three sea lochs.
It was a dull, cold day but Catherine insisted she was strong enough to climb up to the battlements. We had her well wrapped up against the weather. I held tight to her one arm and Ross clung to the other. I’ll never forget what happened there.
A shaft of sunlight pierced the clouds and the sea turned from grey to bright blue in a second. Something about the scene gave her new energy. We were almost turning back to the warmth of the café nearby when Catherine stopped at an archway and tears began to run down her cheeks.
‘He’s away over there’, she said, clinging on to the railing with a death grip we could not break.
Ross looked at me and I knew he was wondering if his mother had lost her mind.
She carried on talking as if we were not there at all. She said she had come to this very spot for years and looked out towards Skye and the Atlantic Ocean. It was the closest she ever came to where her son had gone.
Ross was shocked to the core to hear this, but that was nothing to what happened next. She cried out the name Angus. ‘Angus, come back home!’ in a pitiful, broken voice just full of loss and longing.
We took Catherine to the restaurant and Ross got her a dram to warm her up. She was cold like a statue. Once she had broken the silence of all the long years she told us everything that had happened back then. It came like a flood held back behind a giant dam.
It was the war years, of course, and things were difficult for everyone. My father-in-law, your grandfather, had flat feet and was not allowed to be a soldier. He resented this and let his temper control his feelings. He was a hard worker, of course, an engineer who helped build many structures in Glasgow but it was as if he had built a high wall against the memory of his first son. He would never allow Catherine to talk about him. I think she must have suffered a lot in silence and in the end, she could not keep that silence any longer.
She died soon after. I think she had unburdened herself at last and passed on the secret to her second son, leaving it up to him to decide what to do about it.”
Joyce McLeod took a breath and a sip of coffee, leaving Anna to try to calm the wild beating of her heart.
Another story of family misunderstanding and separation was being presented to her so soon after she had heard Lawren’s sad tale. Her mind jumped again to Helen Dunlop’s traumatic life. What was wrong with all these people who did not understand what family meant? The closest ties of all had to be those within a family group. The deep and familiar anguish of not having a child of her own, swept over Anna. Had she been fortunate enough to raise a child herself, nothing in the world, and no one in the world, could have come between them.
Was it because women were subservient to men, the sole breadwinners, in the old days? Anna’s mother had a career as a nurse and she had been insistent that Anna follow in her footsteps. Having a career to fall back on had, undoubtedly, saved Anna’s sanity when she and Richard divorced. Could she ever have accepted their marriage break-up with some shreds of dignity, if it had meant poverty as well as emotional devastation? Regardless of her ability to earn a living, Anna knew she had come perilously close to throwing herself on Richard’s mercy, despite his infidelity. She almost begged him to choose her and repair their relationship.
The scenario this presented was not something Anna wished to dwell upon.
She could see Joyce’s story was almost concluded so she asked a question that was now boring into her brain. “Joyce, what did your husband decide to do about his mother’s confession?”
“Well, you have to understand that this news came to us only a few years ago. We were both heavily involved in Ross’ business, the children’s busy lives and his father’s final illness from alcohol abuse. We decided to sit on the information and only try to find out what had happened to Angus and his wife in Canada.”
“So you found out about Simon and me?”
“Yes. Your parents were both gone. You were teaching in Ontario and Simon was living with his family in Alberta. That’s about it. We never expected to find you on our doorstep. Which makes me wonder, what brings you to Glasgow now, Anna?”
It was time for Anna to turn the tables of the conversation and try to condense a long family story from the perspective of the other side of the Atlantic.
Before she could begin, Joyce’s head swivelled toward the entrance hall.
“Hold that thought, Anna! Rory’s here at last. I’ll just get us all a sandwich and heat some pasta and we can sit down in comfort. Oh, don’t worry! Rory has known about you and Simon for years.”
Joyce slipped to the other side of the marble countertop and busied herself with food preparations, leaving Anna to stand and meet her cousin Rory.
He came into the kitchen like a force of nature, rubbing his hands together and tossing his auburn hair to one side. He was tall, similar in height to Anna and Philip, and Anna guessed that his height came from his father, rather than his mother. He had a ruddy complexion, although that could be because of the cold wind outside, but he also had the identical beaming smile of his mother.
“Anna! Well, I never expected to be meeting a long-lost cousin today. I apologize for not arriving sooner. With Dad out on the site today, there were several things, and people, I had to deal with before I could leave the office. Has my mother been looking after you? I imagine she’s been filling you in on the family secrets. I hope you are not too shocked?”
“On the contrary, Rory, I was about to divulge a few secrets of my own!”
“Leave the lass in peace for a minute, Rory! Take Anna over to the window and get her a drink. She’ll be needing a pick-me-up after all that’s happened already.”
Rory quickly complied with his mother’s request and settled his cousin on a high-backed chair at an oval table set within a tall bay window overlooking the front gardens. He fetched a chilled bottle of white from a wine fridge and placed a set of crystal glasses at the ready.
By the time Anna had tasted the wine and savoured the fine vintage, Joyce had arrived at the table bearing plates of sandwiches and a steaming bowl of pasta. On her instructions, Rory collected two bowls of pasta sauce from the countertop and an assortment of plates and cutlery.
Anna could see that this was a familiar routine for mother and son. It appeared that Rory either lived in this spacious home with his parents, or was a frequent lunch-time visitor.
After her substantial hotel breakfast, Anna was unable to do justice to the food on offer but she made up for it by attempting to answer Rory’s questions about when she had arrived, where she was staying and what her plans were.
To answer this last question, Anna decided to start at the end of her story by introducing the topic of Lawren, and the whole sequence of events that had led to her property in Scotland.
“You see,” she began, “I knew nothing of Scotland before Helen’s legacy. When I decided to keep the Oban house my life changed for the better in every way possible. It’s a long story but it was there that my artist friend, Lawren Drake, became my life partner. He arrives in Glasgow tomorrow and we will travel to Oban within a day or two. My brother Simon and his family are staying at the farmhouse at the moment. It will be the first time they have met Lawren. They are due to return to Canada soon.”
Rory and Joyce exchanged a glance at this news. Having found a new branch of the McLeod family, they were reluctant to miss the opportunity to meet all of them.
“I am thinking we have plans to make Anna, but first let us bring you up to date on your Scottish cousins. Rory, you start.”
“Right you are! You might need to take notes, Anna. There’s a whole tribe of us now!”
Anna’s eyebrows twitched at this announcement. She hoped she could keep track. The day had presented so many surprises already.
Joyce disappeared for a moment and returned with an armful of framed family photographs. As Rory spoke, she pointed out her children and their families.
“I am the only unattached one of the lot, Anna. Blame it on the building business. I have been involved since leaving school and I expect I will take over from Dad one day soon.”
“The sooner the better!” breathed Joyce.
“Jocelyn is next in line. She’s the real redhead of the family and as you can see she’s passed that on to her children. Ginger tops the lot of them! What they make of that in France, I can’t begin to guess!”
“Jocelyn, has a real talent for languages,” explained her mother. “She has worked for the foreign office for years as a translator and met her husband there. They live in Paris now with the two boys.”
“Next, comes my brother, Murray. He’s the brainy one.”
Joyce elbowed her son in the ribs in annoyance at this characterization.
“Well,” continued Rory, “you must admit he’s the one who followed in Grandpa’s footsteps and became an engineer, and a very successful one. His advice and expertise allowed Dad and me to forgo the expenses of employing a firm to supply that kind of help.”
“Och, I’m sure Anna doesn’t want to hear all that stuff, Rory! Tell her about the children.”
Joyce found a picture of Murray’s family and proudly presented it for Anna’s inspection.
“What lovely girls they have,” exclaimed Anna, when she had admired the large house and gardens in the background of the photograph.
“Last, but never least,” continued Rory, “is Heather, the baby of the family. She causes more trouble than all the rest put together. She’s living with some rocker in England, would you believe? We don’t see much of her these days.”
“You have a wonderful family, Joyce. They have been very fortunate to be brought up in this beautiful home.”
Laughter greeted this statement and Anna wondered what she had said wrong.
“Oh, goodness me, Anna! This house would have been much too hoighty-toighty for our bunch of rapscallions. We lived in Dennistoun in Glasgow’s east end when they were young. It was a big, fourth floor flat on Whitehill Street and I can tell you climbing those stairs with prams and shopping and babies in arms was no picnic. By the time Ross had the cash to buy this place, Jocelyn and Murray were gone and Rory and Heather were the only ones left at home. We had all the space and no one left to fill it, you might say.”
“Oh, stop, mother! Anna doesn’t need to hear ancient history! The poor woman’s eyes have glazed over. Give Anna a chance to catch her breath, won’t you?”
Anna laughed. She had been delighted to be immersed in this family story and taken into the fold like a lost lamb. She had to search through her memory for a feeling this comfortable. It was certainly far different from her own childhood. Cozy times at Alina’s home would be the nearest she could come to a comparison.
A cell phone chimed out and Joyce got up to fetch it. She answered “Yes!” enthusiastically to the caller then turned back to her guest. “That was Ross. He’s on his way here. Rory, you’ve to get back to the office toute suite, your Dad’s leaving for the day.”
“Okay dokey, Mum! I’ll see you again, Anna. It’s been great to meet you!’
With that, Rory left the kitchen and the door slammed behind him in short order. Anna thought it would be quite a challenge to manage an energetic family of the size of Joyce and Ross’. No wonder what was happening far away on the other side of the Atlantic was not of much concern in their busy lives.
She stood up and helped clear the table of dishes. Joyce commented that Ross would have eaten on his lunch break at the building site. She insisted that Anna stay until her husband arrived home as he was very anxious to meet her.
Anna was not sure how much more excitement she could stand in this one day but her Aunt (strange to think of this), had been so welcoming that it would have appeared ungracious to leave at this point.
While Joyce loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the countertop, humming along to a song on the radio, Anna stood at the bay window and admired the long view downhill to the park. She had been standing there in a daze for a minute or two when she suddenly realized that a figure of a man was approaching the front door of the house.
Joyce must have heard his footsteps on the stairs for she went to meet him. Anna could hear a whispered conversation taking place in the hall outside the kitchen, then Joyce walked back in, followed by a stranger.
A shock hit Anna like a tidal wave. This man, her Uncle Ross, was so like her own father that her mind flipped back to days before he had gone to live out his last years with Simon in Alberta. Their farewell scene was suddenly vivid in her mind. She had driven him to the airport and loaded his luggage onto the
weigh-in belt when her father had turned to her and given her a rare bear hug that forced the air out of her lungs. “Take care of yourself, Anna, my dearest. Remember, family is how we survive.”
At the time she had not understood his urgency or the meaning of his remark, but standing here in this Scottish home, facing his own brother, with the knowledge of all her Dad had missed in his life, she finally grasped the meaning. She, too, had missed much but that was all going to change.
These are your folks, Dad, and I claim them for my own.