The Family at Farrshore Read online

  ‘I would have cleaned his boots.’

  ‘Why should you? He’s perfectly capable of doing them himself?’ Cathryn asked, amused.

  ‘It’s the way I was brought up, my dear. But maybe you’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t be running after the men folk. But then how are things to be done properly if we don’t do them?’

  She was laughing as she finished clearing the table.

  CHAPTER 2

  Just before 8.30, Cathryn stepped outside the front door and took a deep breath.

  Human habitation seemed out of place in these surroundings, she decided. It looked almost too wild a landscape for anyone to settle in, with the high cliffs falling to the sea and the mountain sloping steeply above the cottages. But it was settled, and had probably been so since before the Vikings arrived over 1200 years ago.

  ‘Cathryn! Hello!’ The professor was striding along the road, impatient to be getting on with things in the way that Cathryn remembered from when she’d worked with him before.

  He shook her hand in a crushing grip.

  ‘Great to see you. You got my briefing? Good, good. The other two have gone on ahead to the site so we’re just waiting for Magnus Macaskill. You’ll have met him of course since you’re both staying with the lovely Dolly?’

  ‘Yes,’ Cathryn said, ‘but, Professor Gillanders, who is he? I’ve never come across him before.’

  ‘Gil, call me Gil. Even my wife calls me Gil.’ The professor could be heard halfway to Norway. ‘Ah, here’s Magnus now.’

  They walked back down between the cottages and up a sandy path. At the top the professor stopped and pointed. ‘Down there. That’s where the ring was found.’

  Cathryn remembered the first time she’d heard about it in a confidential letter from Gil.

  Part of the cliff had become eroded and fallen into the sea. Someone walking along the beach found what turned out to be a Viking ring of finely plaited gold, and some coins, below the slippage.

  Now, two years later, plans were in place for a dig up on the cliff before further erosion might mean the loss of opportunity to see if there had been a Viking settlement here.

  She thought of the household she was staying in – it was possible that the people in it could have Viking ancestry. Amazingly, there were tests now that could be done to check that.

  Looking out to sea, she saw, in her imagination, a longboat landing on the beach. Perhaps Magnus was envisaging the same scene. The glow of the early morning sun landed on his hair and again Cathryn felt that she was in the presence of a real live Viking.

  Gil put an arm round each of them.

  ‘It’s going to be good. I feel it in my old bones. I feel it with my nose.’

  United by Gil’s arms Cathryn and Magnus smiled at each other. If Gil said so it must be true. It was going to be good.

  ‘This is HQ.’ Gil waved his hand towards a large caravan.

  ‘Cathryn!’ A small round figure in a red beanie hat shot over.

  Cathryn was delighted to see Thelma Strong, an old acquaintance.

  Beside Thelma was lanky bespectacled Peter Jackson. Cathryn recognised the name but not the face.

  The professor did the introductions.

  ‘Macaskill, Macaskill,’ Thelma repeated, looking bluntly at Magnus. ‘No, never heard of you. Canadian you say?’

  ‘Vancouver,’ Magnus said, smiling, as Gil urged them on to ‘HQ’.

  Cathryn found herself squashed in beside Magnus on one side of the table. Once again he seemed to be having trouble fitting his legs into a small space.

  Talking rapidly, and with arm movements that put his table companions in imminent danger, Gil outlined the plan for the day.

  The area had already been marked off, the turf lifted and the soil sent off for analysis. Now they had the painstaking task of digging and sifting and – hopefully – recording and photographing what they found.

  Cathryn was aware of Peter Jackson’s friendly eyes on her.

  ‘That was a great paper you gave in Stockholm,’ he said. ‘I hoped to speak to you afterwards but you’d gone. You didn’t stay for the dinner on the last night?’

  ‘I was sorry to miss it,’ Cathryn replied without explaining why that had happened. Daniel had flown out and surprised her by appearing in the foyer of the conference centre after she had delivered her paper, and whisking her off to a much more glamorous hotel than the one she and her fellow archaeologists were staying in.

  Her first reaction had been one of delight at the gesture but later a part of her couldn’t help feeling that dinner with her colleagues would have rounded off what had been a very successful meeting.

  Since then it had crossed her mind that maybe it had been Daniel’s intention that she miss the dinner and its networking opportunities.

  Gil interrupted her memories. ‘Thelma, Cathryn, Peter. Now, you’ve all been very polite to Mr Macaskill but no doubt you’re wondering why he’s here. Magnus, would you like to explain yourself?’

  Like a lion caged up for too long Magnus sprang out from behind the table. His dishevelled hair touched the caravan roof as he turned to face them.

  ‘Thank you, Gil. Well, ladies, Peter, no, I’m not an archaeologist although it’s a subject I’ve always been interested in. To be brief, I’m third generation Canadian with Scottish roots as my name implies, but the reason I’m here is that I run MM Films. Which you’ve probably never heard of,’ he added.

  Three of his audience shook their heads.

  Magnus laughed. ‘You will! We’re going to film this dig. It’s part of a bigger project to make a documentary on the Vikings and we all very much hope that that will include a major find here in Farrshore.’

  He stopped. If he had been expecting gasps of excitement or approval he was to be disappointed.

  Thelma squared her shoulders and turned to the professor. ‘I hope it doesn’t mean that we’ll have hordes of people up here trampling over the ground with metal detectors.’

  ‘Of course not,’ the professor said soothingly, ‘we’re keeping it all very low-key at the moment. And it’s hardly the easiest place to get to as you know.’

  Magnus was Thelma’s next target. She frowned at him. ‘I’m certainly not one of those people who want to be famous for fifteen minutes. It’s never been my wish to be on TV. A celebrity,’ she said putting sarcastic emphasis on the last word.

  ‘We won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do, Thelma,’ Magnus replied, his lips twitching. ‘Personally, I think you’ll come across really well. But I’m not making Time Team, you know. The dig here will probably just take up half-an-hour in a six-part series about the Vikings. It’s their history that matters but we have to put it over in a way that will engage the public who may know nothing about them. What do the others think? Peter?’

  ‘My mum will be thrilled,’ he said, and they all laughed. ‘I think it’s great. I mean it’s such a fantastic subject; it’s got everything – power struggles, sea voyages, treasure. You couldn’t make it up.’

  ‘Thank you, Peter, That’s just the attitude I was hoping for. What do you think, Cathryn?’ He looked at her, his deep blue eyes challenging.

  Cathryn suppressed her first thought which had been to wonder what Daniel would think about it.

  She said slowly: ‘I suppose I agree with both Thelma and Peter. I’ve never had any wish to be on television but if that’s the way it is, well, I hope we find plenty for them to see.’

  She couldn’t resist adding: ‘So when are you going to tell Dolly she’s got a hot-shot film director staying with her? She’s definitely under the impression that you’re an archaeologist.’

  Magnus looked slightly embarrassed. ‘She assumed I was and I didn’t tell her different,’ he said. ‘I will tell her soon though; her and everyone else in the community. She does know that I’m going to be coming and going, though, not like the rest of you.’

  Coming and going? Cathryn looked at him.

  ‘I’ll be filming in Orkney and Shetland and down the west coast too. And in Denmark and Norway. I’d be grateful if you’d keep it all under your hats until we’re a bit further on.’

  Thelma touched her woolly hat in mock salute. ‘I hope you won’t want us to wear make-up,’ she said, emphasising the last word again. ‘I’m perfectly happy with the way I look, thank you.’

  Magnus smiled at her. ‘And we are perfectly happy with the way you look too, Thelma.’ Briefly his eyes met Cathryn’s. ‘No one need wear make-up unless they do already. That includes you, Peter, and you, Professor,’ he added and even Thelma joined in the outburst of laughter.

  Gil jumped up. ‘Well, let’s get on with it, boys and girls,’ he said. ‘Let’s do what we came here to do.’

  The air blowing off the sea was bracing and Cathryn was glad of her waterproof boots, pink fleece top and quilted body warmer. Every so often she lifted her head to look across the stunning view from the top of the cliffs.

  The combination of sun and breeze riffled up the waves and made the water sparkle. White-edged waves fell gently onto the empty beach. The salty air reminded her of Cornwall where she’d been born.

  She was aware of Magnus walking round the site making notes, stopping to speak to the others.

  Now he hunkered down beside herself. ‘I hope it’s not going to worry you, this TV thing, Cathryn,’ he said softly. ‘Really, it’s not a chatty Time Team format but even if it was I think you’d be great.’

  I bet he said exactly the same thing to Thelma and Peter, Cathryn thought.

  ‘I doubt I’ll be “great”, she said, ‘but it’s certainly an interesting idea.’

  ‘And remember,’ added Magnus, ‘it could mean a lot to the people round here. Financially I mean. Bring the tourists in. Not yet
of course,’ he added hastily as Cathryn opened her mouth to protest, ‘but just picture it maybe in a few years. Excavation open for all to see and walk round. Education centre. Viking re-enactments.’

  ‘Re-enacting what exactly?’

  Magnus quailed a little under Cathryn’s gaze.

  ‘Well, not all the gory details, I suppose,’ he said, ‘we can hardly have a long-boat coming in and wreaking death and destruction.’

  ‘It certainly sounds as if we need that education centre.’ Cathryn picked up her trowel again.

  Magnus leaned forward. ‘Do you know you’ve got some mud on your nose?’

  He leaned further towards her and brushed it off with the tip of his finger.

  He leaned further towards her and brushed it off. Close up she could see that his chin had a sprinkling of golden stubble.

  She looked after him as he moved away. An unshaven giant of a man – how could she ever have thought he looked like Daniel.

  She stood up and straightened her back, this time looking down at the settlement that was Farrshore.

  Two rows of cottages with the sea on one side and up on the hill a few houses and a lot of sheep. Nothing else.

  How on earth were they to pass the time when they weren’t working? She’d have to ask Gil if they got broadband up here. Then at least she could email her friends and see what was happening in the outside world. Her own world.

  It seemed very far away.

  When Cathryn came downstairs after getting back from the site and having a shower, Dolly showed her into the front room, with its rather stiff furniture and vase of spiky dried flowers in front of the fireplace.

  Dolly moved these to one side and set a match to the paper and sticks in the grate. Cathryn hadn’t seen a real fire since her granny got central heating installed.

  ‘Now sit you down,’ Dolly said. ‘I know what the air up here does to folk who aren’t used to it. Knocks them out. I’ll call you through at seven. I hope you don’t mind eating in the kitchen?’

  Cathryn assured her that she didn’t mind at all and after the older woman had left the room she sat enjoying the fire’s warmth and crackle. The magazines piled beside her chair didn’t appeal to her so she went and looked out of the window.

  Across the road was the cottage whose occupant she had encountered last night. Dolly’s daughter-in-law, Sara.

  She was standing in her doorway. Talking to Magnus. It was unclear whether Magnus had been inside and was just leaving, or had just arrived.

  He and Cathryn had left the dig separately. Magnus had said he wanted to speak to Gil and he asked Cathryn to tell Dolly he wouldn’t be long.

  Now Cathryn stepped back so that she was hidden by the long curtains. Sara had her hand on Magnus’s arm and was smiling at him.

  As Magnus turned and came across the road to Dolly’s cottage Cathryn flew back to her own chair, picked up the first thing that came to hand from the magazine rack.

  It turned out to be the local newspaper, the Northern Star. Before she had a chance to even look at the front page the door opened and Dolly called ‘Your supper’s ready, my dear.’

  She stood in the doorway with Rosie half hiding behind her skirt. Suddenly Rosie rushed to Cathryn. ‘That’s me!’ she shouted, pointing.

  Cathryn wasn’t very used to children. Her sister had two little boys but they lived back home in Cornwall and Cathryn didn’t see them very often.

  She peered at the paper. ‘Is it?’

  ‘Look!’ Rosie stabbed at a picture.

  ‘Rosie scores!’ was the caption. Apparently several Highland primary schools had had a trip to visit Inverness’s football team, Caley Thistle, and were allowed to play on their pitch.

  ‘Well done, Rosie,’ said Cathryn, trying to remember anything she might know about football. When she was at school it was just the boys who played, and Daniel wasn’t a fan.

  ‘Yes, that’s terrific. Your mum was telling me about it.’ Magnus’s voice suddenly emerged above Dolly’s head.

  How did Magnus know Rosie’s mum, Cathryn wondered. Oh, wait a minute. The penny dropped. Rosie must be Sara’s daughter.

  Magnus came into the sitting-room, picked Rosie up and turned her upside down much to the little girl’s squealing delight. When she was upright she launched herself at Cathryn, her former shyness gone. ‘Did you find the treasure, Cathryn? Did you find the treasure?’

  ‘Not yet, Rosie.’ Cathryn tried to explain. ‘It can take months, even years. The Vikings were here a long time ago so any treasures will be buried very deep.’

  ‘My daddy said there would be gold and jewels. Can I come and see?’ Rosie jumped towards Magnus who lifted her up again.

  ‘There’s nothing to see yet. When we find treasure I promise I’ll show you. OK?’

  He set Rosie on the floor while Dolly said: ‘Rosie’s missing her daddy, aren’t you, pet.’ Dolly turned to Cathryn. ‘Joe’s on the oil rigs, two weeks on, two weeks off. Away home now, Rosie darling.’

  The kitchen table was laid for two.

  ‘What about yourself and JD?’ Magnus asked Dolly as she put fried trout, new potatoes and peas in front of them.

  ‘We’ve eaten. JD’s gone to bed. He gets tired so easily. We had a bit of excitement earlier. Did you see that big house through the trees, before you turn up the hill? Farrshore Lodge. It’s been empty for a year but now an actor’s bought it, Sara heard – the one who plays the baddie in that soap. Ooh, what’s his name? I can’t remember. It’s certainly all go in Farrshore these days. Now, I’m away to shut the hens in.’

  ‘What happened to JD, do you know?’ Cathryn asked in a low voice as the back door shut behind Dolly.

  ‘Some accident at sea a year ago – when he was out on a lifeboat rescue. Made up his mind he’ll never walk or work again, Sara says. Gets these black-dog moods sometimes. But when he’s on form he’s got some great stories. He was born in that back room there so he knows every stick and stone of this place.’

  ‘Poor Dolly. That must make life hard for her. Is that why she has to take in lodgers?’

  Before Magnus could reply Dolly came back, and when they had finished their main course followed by rhubarb crumble, she insisted that they have their coffee back in the sitting-room.

  Cathryn and Magnus sat, as stiffly as the furniture and the dried flowers, in an armchair on each side of the fireplace.

  Magnus picked up the paper and flicked through it. ‘Ever done any Scottish dancing, Cathryn?’ he asked.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Scottish dancing. You know, at a ceilidh?’

  ‘They don’t have many ceilidhs in Lancaster.’

  ‘Well they should. They’re great!’ Magnus went on: ‘I’ve been to some put on by Highland societies in Canada, believe it or not. You don’t have to know complicated steps, you just try and follow what everyone else is doing.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Cathryn put down her coffee cup.

  Magnus shook the paper. ‘I’ve just seen here that there’s going to be a ceilidh in Farrshore Hall. I’ll mention it to Gil – staff outing and all that.’

  Cathryn suddenly felt more tired that she ever remembered feeling in her life.

  Dolly was obviously right about the air up here and of course she had been out in it for most of the day. That answered her earlier question to herself about how she was going to pass the time when she wasn’t working. Sleeping!

  She stood up.

  Suddenly there was a long leg stretched out, barring her way. ‘Hey, lighten up, Cathryn. We’re all in this together for the next few months. We could have some fun along the way. What’s the problem with going to a dance?’

  Because dancing is what I do, did, with Daniel, she thought. ‘I didn’t come here to dance.’

  I sound like Thelma, she realised. I didn’t come here to dance.

  ‘I’ve never done any Scottish dancing,’ she said in a slightly softer tone.

  ‘Well, so what? You’ll never be younger to learn, as my old dad always tells me. Where are you off to?’

  ‘I’m going upstairs.’ Cathryn put her hand to her mouth to hide a yawn.

  Magnus left his leg stretched out for a moment before he withdrew it, allowing her to pass.

  ‘Sweet dreams, Cathryn,’ he said and she left the room, cross at the flush she felt rising in her face.