Page 12 of The Moon Sister
‘No, or at least, I don’t think so. Me and my five sisters were adopted by my father as babies, you see.’
‘Is that so? How fascinating. Has your father told you where you were originally from?’
‘Sadly he died just over five months ago, but he left each of us a letter. Mine tells me exactly where he found me.’
‘And will you go to this place?’
‘I’m not sure. I’m just happy being me – I mean, the “me” I’ve always been, and having wonderful memories of my sisters and adoptive father.’
‘And you don’t want anything to disrupt those?’ said Beryl.
‘No, I don’t think I do.’
‘Who knows? One day you may wish to, but for now, I’m sorry for your loss. Now, the mops and brooms are in the cupboard down the passageway on your left. You can take what you need, as long as you bring them back when you’re finished with them.’
‘Thank you, Beryl,’ I said, touched by her words of comfort about Pa.
‘Anything else you require to make that cottage of yours more habitable, let me know. Now, I must radio Ben, our handyman, and get him to top up Chilly’s firewood.’
‘He’s the old gypsy who lives on the estate?’
‘That’s him.’
‘Margaret said I should meet him.’
‘Well, he’s always in, dear. He’s doubled up with arthritis, and how he survives the winters out there in the glen, I’ll never know. At least he has his log cabin that the new Laird built him in the summer. It’s insulated, so he’s warm.’
‘That was kind of Ch—the Laird.’
‘Well, I’ve already said to him that for Chilly’s own safety, he really should be moved into the village by the social services. The problem is, every time they’ve made the trek out to assess him, he’s gone into hiding and no one can find him. Next time they come, I’m not going to give him any warning,’ Beryl sniffed. ‘It also means that one of us has to check on him every day, take him food and fill up his log basket. As if we don’t have enough to do. Anyway’ – Beryl reached for the radio pack – ‘I must get on.’
After collecting a mop, broom and vacuum cleaner, I manhandled them across the yard, not helped by Thistle crisscrossing excitedly in front of me.
‘Hey, Tig,’ came a voice from the bowels of the shed in the courtyard. ‘I’m in here, boiling a couple of stag heads. You putting a brew on any time soon?’
‘Yup, but you’ll have to come out of there and get it – there’s no way I’m setting foot inside while you’re doing that,’ I called back.
‘Cheers, Tig, two sugars, please.’
‘Yes, your Lordship,’ I replied. ‘I’ll just put my bucket and mop down, if you don’t mind.’ I bobbed a curtsey before opening the door to the cottage.
4
It was only two weeks until Christmas and the days had further shortened ahead of the winter solstice. Despite the frost at the windows, it had not yet snowed, and I was pleased I had managed to make the cottage far more cosy than it had been. Beryl had appeared with armfuls of pretty floral curtains the day after I’d borrowed her mop, vacuum and broom.
‘Take your pick,’ she’d told me. ‘These used to hang in the Lodge before it was refurbished, and they were too good to throw out. There’s some rugs going spare as well – a bit moth-eaten, but they’d add some warmth to those flagstone floors. Tell Cal there’s an old leather chair in the barn that would go nicely by that fire.’
‘Quite the little homemaker, aren’t you?’ Cal had chuckled when he’d seen the newly redecorated sitting room.
Despite myself, I’d enjoyed the process, because I’d never had a proper home of my own. Now, sitting in front of the huge fire in the evening in the worn leather chair with Cal lying on the sofa, was a pleasure. Although he’d initially ignored Alice, Cal had now fallen under her spell, and often he’d take her from the cage and have her curl up contentedly in his large palm. It upset me slightly that he was happy to have Alice as a house guest, but continued to draw the line at Thistle.
‘Are yae goin’ back to your family for Christmas?’ he asked me as we ate breakfast together, the frost around the windowpane framing the spectacular glen beneath us.
‘I was originally thinking I might go home to Switzerland for a couple of days, but with the cats still so unsettled, I don’t think I can. All I’d do is fret, and besides, none of my sisters are going home this year either, so it would be really weird to be there without them and Pa.’
‘Where do they all live?’
‘Maia, the eldest, is in Brazil, Ally is in Norway, Star is down in the south of England, CeCe has apparently taken off on one of her adventures, and Electra, my little sister . . . well, she could be anywhere. She’s a model. You might have heard of her. Most people have.’
