Cally turned to him, eyebrows raised. 'Fairies?'
'The old folks in the town swear by it. They say if you leave a dish of milk out on a full moon night, you might catch a glimpse of them dancing.'
Cally laughed, shaking her head. 'Now you're pulling my leg.'
Logan held up his hands. 'It's a legend. Whether or not it's true is another matter.'
'I suppose we'll just have to keep our eyes peeled for any mischievous fairies this weekend,' Cally said, playing along.
Logan joked, 'They're said to be fond of playing tricks on unsuspecting visitors.'
As they continued to chat and laugh, the train began to slow even further. Logan gestured out the window. 'We're nearly there now. You can just see the edge of the estate.'
Cally peered out. In the distance, she could make out a collection of buildings. A large, sprawling main house – if you could call such a grand structure a 'house' – built of grey stone that seemed to grow organically from the landscape. Turrets and chimneys rose against the sky, giving the whole place an air of old-money grandeur. 'It's enormous.’
Logan nodded. ‘We won't be staying in the main house. I didn’t want to bother with all that. I thought we’d be better off on our own. We'll be in one of the cottages on the estate.'
'Much more me, I think.'
'I just prefer it in one of the cottages.'
Cally gathered her phone and tucked it into the inside pocket of her Lovely coat, picked up her water bottle and put her handbag in the front pocket of her suitcase. As they rounded a final bend, an old white timber-clad Victorian station came into view. A platform stretched out before them, covered by a long, sloping roof supported by intricately detailed iron columns painted white. Cally squinted at the deep shade of green on the roof, its delicate wooden fretwork butted up to a central stationbuilding of grey stone and white-painted wood. Large, arched windows gleamed in the afternoon sun, an ornate clock tower rose from the centre of the building and little details here and there were painted in the same green as the roof.
Cally raised her eyebrows. ‘And I thought the station at Lovely was nice. Wow, it's like stepping back in time looking at that. I can see I am going to love it here. It's beautiful. Is this really where we're getting off?'
‘Yep. It used to be the royal station back in the day.’
‘As in, for theactualroyal family?'
'The very same.’
As the train came to a stop alongside the platform, Cally looked at hanging baskets overflowing with flowers, an immaculately kept waiting area with smooth stone flagstones, and a row of benches painted the same crisp white as the iron columns, their backs featuring an intricate design. She heaved her tote bag over her shoulder and clicked the handle up on her cabin bag. Logan grabbed the rest of their stuff and they prepared to disembark. Cally peered out the door where an old-fashioned luggage cart stood at the end of the platform, its wooden slats weathered but well-maintained, a vintage weighing machine with brass fittings gleamed in the sunlight and a huge old sign for the waiting room swung back and forth in a strong, cool breeze.
'We've travelled through time,' Cally said as they stepped off the train onto the platform. She inhaled crisp, clean air full of the scent of pine.
'Welcome to Scotland,' Logan chuckled. ‘Let’s pray to the weather gods because we will surely need prayers. It gets cold up here any time of the year.’
As they made their way along the platform, Cally looked up at lovely old iron rafters, the timber roof, and a series of information boards mounted on the wall. Each one detailed adifferent aspect of the station's history, complete with black-and-white photographs showing royal visits of years gone by.
She whipped her phone out and took a photo. ‘I’ll send this to Nancy. It’ll make her laugh.’
'They certainly knew how to build things to last back then. This station must have weathered a lot of Scottish winters.'
Cally nodded at the thought of the Scottish winters. She loved winter, Christmas, and everything snow. She tried to imagine the whole scene sparkling in a dusting of white. From what she’d seen so far, she’d most definitely be coming back to see it in the flesh. She nodded to herself. This was going to be good. Really, really good. At least, that’s what she thought.
11
After trundling through the station with their bags, Cally and Logan made their way outside. Just as Logan was pulling his phone out of his pocket, an old Land Rover more or less flew around the corner, bumped up onto the pavement, and a man with a bushy beard, green overalls, and a flat cap jumped out.
'Ah, young Logan!' the man called out, his Scottish accent thick and welcoming. 'Good to see you, lad. And this must be the lovely Cally we've heard so much about.'
Logan grinned, stepping forward to shake the man's hand. 'Cally, this is Angus. He's been the estate's gamekeeper for, well, forever, really. Is that right?'
'Aye, not quite forever.' Angus chuckled. 'Just the last wee fifty years or so. Lots more left in me yet.'
Cally smiled, held out her hand, and bantered, 'It's lovely to meet you, Angus. I hope people haven't been telling too many tales about me.'
Angus caught on immediately. His eyes twinkled. 'Only good things, lass. Only good things. Now, let's get you two up to the house. I'm sure you're ready for a wee rest after that long journey. Welcome to the Highlands. Where the wildlife is asbreathtaking as the scenery and the weather keeps you on your toes…'
