“It’s quicker walking or riding to the house from the lodge,” said Rudy, the car crawling and wobbling along the narrow lane. “With the Rover, I have to take the long way around. All of this land used to be a part of the Mortimer estate. But my father sold a lot off. The old house takes a lot of money to maintain.”
“But he still owns the distillery?” asked Frank.
“Yes, Frank. Don’t worry. He still owns that,” said Rudy, chuckling. “You’ll get to meet them tonight, my folks. They arrived back yesterday night to a house with fully functioning heating, thank heavens. But my brother, Ivan, and his wife were delayed because of a mix-up on flights times. They should be on their way now.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t insist you stay with them last night,” said Trevor.
“I told a wee white lie. Said Millie needed time to prepare the bedrooms, including my own, for our other guests. And that you’d kindly allowed me to bunk in with you.”
“And she believed you?” asked Trevor, grinning.
“Never know with my mother. Ah, here we are.”
Down the short driveway, the impressive Mortimer House came into view. Trevor remembered the white building looking positively stately from the hillside, but up close the house looked more like an exclusive hotel. Three stone steps covered by an ornate portico supported by thick columns led to dark oak double doors. Above the top of the entrance sat the Scottish flag, the Union Jack and the flag of the European Union. Rudy noticed Trevor looking.
“Dad was proud to be a part of the European Union. He still can’t fathom the fact that we’re leaving. Says doing so won’t do us any favours with our whisky export business. Whatever you do, avoid the subject tonight. You’ll never get him to shut up.”
Frank chuckled, which started Johnny laughing along.
“For future reference, Rudy,” said Trevor smirking. “In case you haven’t already got the message. Never, ever, tell those two not to do something.”
Rudy pointed out Tam and Millie waiting at the front door to greet them. He steered the Rover to an empty parking area at the rear of the house then led everyone back to the front door. After exchanging greetings with them all, Millie explained that Rudy’s parents had driven off early for the station to pick up his brother and sister-in-law. After a few private words with Millie, Rudy and Tam led the boys away towards the stables, while Millie accompanied Cheryl and Trevor into the house.
Cheryl gaped at the grand interior, exploring one room after another, and especially the main hall, which had been transformed into something befitting a Jane Austen novel—if she’d written one set in Scotland. Trevor had probably overdone the tartan theme, but Millie had advised him on the correct clan colours to use—scarlet and fir green—and he felt the old decorations had taken on a new lease of life with the makeover. Indeed the two massive Christmas trees at the far end of the main hall—previously adorned with simple white baubles and starry white lights—provided a focal point with their tartan bows of all shapes and sizes, as well as flashes of holly and purple thistle.
Beyond the main hall, Trevor noticed the dining room already being set up by catering staff, three huge tables each seating thirty guests. He realised the party planners had carried his tartan theme forward on the tables, probably at the advice of Millie. Rudy told him how his parents always employed specialist caterers to wait tables, to feed everyone and serve drinks. But ninety for Hogmanay dinner? Once again, Trevor felt a tremor of nervousness when he thought how different his world was from the one Rudy inhabited.
“What date did we arrive?“ asked Cheryl.
“Evening of the twenty-second,“ answered Trevor.
“Can you believe this is our tenth day?” said Cheryl, bringing him out of his reverie. “Feels like months, doesn't it? I have to be honest, Mac, after that second night—after Mary and Karl arrived—Mum and I spoke about throwing in the towel, maybe driving home for Christmas. But I’m so pleased we decided to stay. I have a suspicion we’re going to be dining out on this Christmas tale for years to come.”
“I’m not sure anybody will believe you.”
The four horsemen of the apocalypse—as Johnny had labelled him, Frank, Rudy and Tam—returned to the house just before midday. Millie arranged a light lunch of sandwiches and hot tea for them all, sat casually around the big oak table in the large kitchen. Rudy appeared to take pride in introducing his new friends, and both Millie and Tam listened patiently until he’d finished. Trevor could see how Millie doted on Rudy, the way she smiled at his enthusiasm and piled food onto his plate. Frank and Johnny—both red-cheeked from the chill air—stole the show, talking excitedly about their riding adventure, what they’d seen and where they’d been. Navigating the horse trails around rugged Loch Arkaig had provided a bracing contrast to their temperate middle eastern travels. When Cheryl offered to show the boys around the house, they jumped at the chance, leaving Rudy and Trevor together in the kitchen.
“Is yon bonny McTavish lad goin’ tae the ball tonight?” Millie asked Rudy. Trevor had to listen carefully to her accent, much broader than her husband’s or Rudy’s.
“Yes, Millie. He’s coming to the ball as my guest,” said Rudy before turning to Trevor. “Millie’s family name is also McTavish. Was, that is, until she married old Tam McDonald.”
“Then he should be wearin’ a Clan McTavish kilt,” she said, folding her arms. “D’you no ken?”
“Aye, I suppose,” said Rudy, with a smile and a shrug.
“Nae s’pose about it,” said Millie, standing and grabbing Trevor by the elbow. “Come wi’ me, young laddie. We’ll make sure ye hae the right sett.”
“What’s happening, Rudy?” said Trevor in a panic as Millie led him away to one of the little rooms behind the kitchen.
“If I’m not mistaken, I think you’re about to be fitted with a Clan McTavish kilt. Still, that sorts out your wardrobe for tonight. And I have all the right accessories to go with that particular outfit.”
While Millie set about measuring Trevor and fishing out a large straw basket filled with cloth and accessories, she asked him questions. Rudy stood by to help out, leaning against the doorframe and grinning, his arms folded, enjoying watching her work. Eventually, she found what she needed—a blue-and-red-checked material—and wrapped the cloth around Trevor’s waist.
“You’ll need tae drop yer troosers,” said Millie, to which Trevor’s eyes pleaded with Rudy for help.
“Do as she says, Trevor. Don’t worry, she’s seen worse before. Looking after me and my brother.”
“Aye,” said Millie, with a wheeze of a giggle. “That I have.”
