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\u201cIt\u2019s been raining since Glasgow,\u201d grumbled Vicky, \u201crain, rain, rain, and it\u2019s so cold, probably be snowing in a minute and we\u2019ll freeze to death. \u2018Car found with four frozen Americans\u2019, it\u2019ll be in all the papers, you\u2019ll be sorry you made us come, Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot if he\u2019s frozen,\u201d said her little brother, Ewan. \u201cThat\u2019s enough,\u201d Mother said coming to life; she hadn\u2019t spoken a word since they had set off from the airport, driving perilously on the wrong side of the road, \u201cdo stop complaining Vicky, we\u2019re all tired and cold not just you, and we\u2019re almost there; look, that\u2019s the sign for the ferry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWow,\u201d said Ewan, \u201ctwo languages, look, can you say that Dad?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFailte, welcome,\u201d said Dad, \u201cThat\u2019s Gaelic, my granny spoke Gaelic, she wouldn\u2019t speak a word of English, ever.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not?\u201d asked Vicky.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s a long history,\u201d replied Dad, \u201cthe cousins will tell you, lots of stories to tell around the fire, we\u2019re going to have such a great Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad maneuvered the car down the rattling ramp and onto the ferry. They were the only car. Hail rattled on the deck, and mixed with rain to slide through the scuppers.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly five minutes, said Dad, seeing Mother biting her lips, closing her eyes at each lurch of the vessel, as it pulled away from the dock, \u00a0\u201cthen a few miles up the road and we\u2019re there. \u00a0I can\u2019t wait to see Tarbet House again, you\u2019ll fall in love with it Ellie, it\u2019s the real thing, built in the seventeen hundreds.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mother shivered and pulled her scarf down over her face, \u201cAs long as it\u2019s warm, and there\u2019s a kettle.\u201d Dad laughed and held her hand, \u201cI promise you the kettle.\u201d<\/p>\n
On the other side of the loch a sudden squall of snow blotted out the old inn crouched opposite the landing place, and a curtain of rain and hail swept over the boat to hide the dock buildings on the shore \u00a0behind them. The afternoon had faded away.. They were in no man\u2019s land thought Vicky, between present and past. This trip back to Dad\u2019s childhood home where his granny had been housekeeper, and his father a stock hand, better be worth it. She and Ewan had grown up with tales of the \u2018Big House\u2019; the bustle of the farm and stalking parties, great gatherings of relatives, the romance of the Highlands and mystery of Dad\u2019s mother who was never mentioned in the stories, or at home.<\/p>\n
The ferryman, staggering cheerfully toward them, took Dad\u2019s fare, \u201cYou\u2019re lucky, this\u2019ll be the last ferry. \u00a0You have a good night now,\u201d he called as he lowered the ramp and watched them drive off.<\/p>\n
A few scraggy sheep trotting in the road turned their ghostly yellow eyes to watch as Dad drove carefully past them. \u00a0There were no houses, no other cars, nothing moved in the fields and on the hills, now covered with drifting snow and the shadows of night.<\/p>\n
\u201cWatch for the house sign,\u201d said Dad, \u201con the right, coming up after the bend, if we see the post box we\u2019ve gone too far.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWatch for their Christmas lights,\u201d said Ewan, \u201cthey will have lights won\u2019t they?\u201d<\/p>\n
But there were no lights. They saw the house sign, drooping from its chain, at the last minute and the car skidded as Dad made the turn and bumped up a rutted, stony drive way. The house was in darkness, no lights showed in the farm buildings behind it. Dad pulled up, and he and Mother got out of the car.<\/p>\n
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\u201cThe cousins were supposed to be here before us,\u201d he said, \u201cthey were going to get the house opened up and they were bringing the Christmas dinner, venison.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cProbably the weather held them up too,\u201d said Mother, \u201chow do we get in? I can\u2019t see a thing where\u2019s the door? Turn the car, we can see with the headlights.\u201d<\/p>\n
The headlights showed the long stone house wall, tall shuttered windows and a solid, black, wooden door.\u00a0 Dad pushed and pulled at the door, rattling the handle. The wind wailed sadly round the house corners; no one answered Dad\u2019s knocking.<\/p>\n
Vicky and Ewan got out of the car, \u201cWe\u2019re hungry and it\u2019s freezing, can\u2019t we go to a hotel or something?\u201d said Vicky.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe could go back to the one by the ferry,\u201d said Ewan, \u201cmaybe they will have burgers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe we should,\u201d said Mother, \u201cand try again tomorrow, obviously there is no one here, they must have got held up.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad turned the car again and crept down the icy drive; out on the road the snow was blowing hard now and packing under their wheels, the car barely moved, slipping sideways when Dad tried to accelerate.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s no good,\u201d said Dad, \u201cI don\u2019t want to get stuck in a ditch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook out!\u201d shouted Mother, \u201cSheep!\u201d<\/p>\n
Three sheep reared up from the road edge in front of them, blundering into the car.\u00a0 Dad wrenched the wheel and the car spun around, and slid into a stone wall with a crump. \u00a0The sheep trotted off into the snowy darkness as the engine died.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow what?\u201d asked Vicky, \u201ccan you get it going again?\u201d<\/p>\n
But the car refused to start and the snow was turning to icy needles, stinging their faces, rattling on the car roof as they got out and stood looking at it.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s it, said Dad, \u201cwe\u2019ll just have to go back to the house, there must be a way in, maybe I can get in through the pantry window somehow, it always used to be left on the latch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBring your back packs,\u201d said Mother, grabbing her overnight bag, \u201cwe\u2019re not coming out again in this weather.\u201d She hugged Ewan, \u201cIt\u2019ll be fine, we can make a fire, and the cousins will be here tomorrow, I\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n
They trudged back to the driveway; two milk churns stood at the entrance, \u201cFunny,\u201d said Vicky,<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t notice them before, and where\u2019s the sign?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on Vicky, don\u2019t hang about, it\u2019s too cold.\u201d Dad and Mother pushed on, pulling Ewan between them. Vicky followed. She smelled wood smoke, or a pipe? Impossible. She looked around, wasn\u2019t that a glimmer of light? There to her right, coming from the shuttered windows? She hurried forward.<\/p>\n
Ewan was leaning against the wall, \u201cDad and Mother have gone round the back,\u201d he said, \u201cto break in.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vicky hardly heard him, she was looking at the window, there was a light, there behind the shutter.\u00a0 She turned around, sheep bleated from the barn and a cow mooed a reply. What.. ? She turned again, pulling Ewan to her. Now she heard the clatter of a busy kitchen. Was it the cousins playing tricks?<\/p>\n
She knocked on the black door.\u00a0 Someone was coming. The door creaked slowly open. An old woman holding a candle aloft looked at her. She pulled her shawl tight across her chest, speaking in her own language.\u201cSo yer back and you brought the boy.\u201d\u00a0 She spat on the ground. \u201cWell, yer not welcome, English, and yer not stopping.\u201d<\/p>\n
The door shut in Vicky\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
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\u201cIt\u2019s been raining since Glasgow,\u201d grumbled Vicky, \u201crain, rain, rain, and it\u2019s so cold, probably be snowing in a minute and we\u2019ll freeze to death. \u2018Car found with four frozen Americans\u2019, it\u2019ll be in all the papers, you\u2019ll be sorry you made us come, Dad.\u201d \u201cNot if he\u2019s frozen,\u201d said her little brother, Ewan. … Continue reading “Back in Time”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-272","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog-posts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/272","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=272"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/272\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":273,"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/272\/revisions\/273"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=272"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=272"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/francesgilbert.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=272"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}