Page 6 of The Moon Sister
‘Heaven,’ I breathed as I stripped off and turned on the shower, then spent an indecently long time beneath it. Stepping out, I dried myself, before putting on the gloriously fluffy robe that hung on the back of the door. Towel-drying my unruly curls, I went back into the bedroom to find Beryl placing a tray onto a table next to one of the leather chairs.
‘I brought you some homemade elderflower cordial to accompany the soup.’
‘Thank you. The water came straight through and was piping hot, by the way.’
‘Good,’ Beryl replied. ‘Right, then I shall leave you to eat. Sleep well, Tiggy.’
And with that, she swept out of the room.
2
Not a glint of daylight appeared through the heavy lining of the curtains as I fumbled for the light switch to see what time it was. Surprisingly, it was almost eight o’clock – a real lie-in for someone who normally rose at six to feed her animals. I clambered out of the enormous bed and walked across to open the curtains, letting out a gasp of delight at the beautiful vista beyond the window.
The Lodge was set on a hill overlooking a glen, the terrain falling gently down to a narrow, winding river in the flat valley bottom, then rising again on the other side to a range of mountains with an icing-sugar dusting of snow atop them. The whole landscape shimmered with frost under the newly risen sun and I opened the freshly painted window to breathe in a lungful of Highland air. It smelt pure – scented by the merest hint of peaty autumnal earth as grass and foliage decomposed in order to fertilise the new growth next spring.
All I wanted to do was run outside and lose myself in the miracle of nature at its finest. I threw on my jeans and jumper, added my ski jacket, beanie and my pair of sturdy boots, then made my way downstairs to the front door. It was unlocked and as I stepped outside, I revelled in the ethereal earthly paradise spread in front of me, miraculously untouched by either humans or their habitations.
‘This is all mine,’ I whispered as I walked across the coarse, frost-crisp grass of the front lawn. I heard a rustle from the trees to my left and saw a young roe deer with its large pointed ears, long eyelashes and auburn spotted coat leaping lightly between them. Even though Margaret’s deer enclosure was large and fashioned as best she could to mimic their habitat while the deer were rehabilitated, it was closely fenced in. Here, at Kinnaird, the deer had thousands of acres in which to roam wild and free, even though they still faced peril from human predators, rather than their natural enemies of yesteryear.
Nothing in nature was safe, I mused, not even humans – the self-fashioned masters of the earth: with all our arrogance, we believed ourselves to be invincible. Yet I’d seen countless times how one mighty puff of wind from the gods in their heavens could wipe out thousands of us at a blow during tornados and hurricanes.
Halfway down the hill, I stopped beside a rushing stream, swollen with last night’s fresh rainfall. I breathed in the air and looked around me.
Could I live here for a while?
Yes, yes, yes!came my soul’s reply.
Yet even formethe total isolation was extreme: Kinnaird trulywasanother world. I knew my sisters would tell me I was mad to cut myself off here, that I should spend more time with people – preferably some suitable males – but that wasn’t what made my heart sing. Being in nature made me feel alive, made my senses sharpen and soar, as if I was rising above the earth and becoming part of the universe. Here at Kinnaird, I knew that the inner part of me that I hid from the world could blossom and grow as I woke each morning to the gift of this magical glen.
‘What do you think of me coming to Kinnaird, Pa?’ I asked the skies above me, fervently wishing I could make that vital, invisible connection with the person I loved most in the world. Yet again, I was talking to thin air, both physically and spiritually, and it was deeply upsetting.
A few hundred metres from the Lodge, I found myself staring down from a rocky crag into a sloping, heavily wooded area. It was a private spot, yet as I scrambled down the slope to investigate, it proved easily accessible. This was the perfect place for Molly, Igor, Posy and Polson – aka the four wildcats – to have their enclosures.
I spent some time walking the area, knowing that the wooded back slope would provide the feeling of security that the wildcats needed if they were to become comfortable enough to venture out and, eventually, to breed. It was only ten minutes from the Lodge and surrounding cottages – close enough for me to provide their daily rations, even in the depths of winter. Feeling pleased with my choice, I made my way back up the slope to the uneven, narrow path that obviously served as an access road through the glen.
Then I heard the sound of an engine chugging towards me and I turned to see Cal hanging out of the Land Rover window, relief on his face.
‘There yae are! Where’ve you been? Beryl had breakfast ready ages ago, but when she went tae call you in your room, she found it empty. She was convinced you’d been taken in the night by MacTavish the Reckless, the Lodge’s resident ghost.’
‘Oh gosh, I’m really sorry, Cal. It’s such a beautiful morning, I came out to explore. I also found the perfect spot to build the wildcat enclosure. It’s just down there.’ I pointed to the slope.
‘Then it was worth getting Beryl and her breakfast in a fuddle. Besides, it does her nae harm tae get her senses going, give her some excitement, if you know what I mean.’ Cal winked at me as I heaved the passenger door closed. ‘O’ course, the problem is that she believes she’s thereallady o’ the Lodge, and I cannae deny that, in many ways, she is. Climb in an’ I’ll give yae a lift back.’
I did so and we lurched off.
‘These roads get treacherous when it snows,’ Cal commented.
‘I’ve lived in Geneva all my life, so at least I’m used to driving in snow.’
‘That’s good then, as you’ll be seein’ a lot o’ it for months on end. Look.’ Cal pointed. ‘Just beyond the burn in that birch copse is where the stags like tae take shelter at night.’
‘That doesn’t look like it gives much protection,’ I said, looking at the sparse cluster of trees.
‘Aye, and that’s the trouble. Most of the natural woodland has gone from the glen. We’re startin’ tae reforest, but it’ll all need to be fenced off or the deer will nibble away the seedlings. It’s a huge job the new Laird’s undertaken. Och, Beryl, don’t do this.’ There was a grinding noise as Cal tried to shift the Land Rover into gear. The car juddered for a few seconds, then ran smoothly again.
‘“Beryl”?’ I repeated.
‘Aye,’ he chuckled, ‘named after our housekeeper herself; this Landy’s as tough as old boots, an’ mostly reliable, despite its hiccups.’
