crowding a single-track road. The caption beneath it said, “Rush Hour in Scotland.” She would send it to Rosalia at the shop.
“You’ll be wanting postage for the card, then?”
Libby smiled, nodded.
“Where will you be posting to, then? ’Twill determine the amount of postage you’ll be needin’.”
“The United States,” Libby answered.
“Oh, I thought you might be American. From what part?”
“New York,” Libby answered, and then added, “But I was born in Boston.”
“Ah, New York,” the woman nodded. “I’ve always wanted to go there, just once, to see it. It must be so exciting to live there, so many people and things to see.”
“Yes, it can be.”
“Is it true when they say you can stand on top of the Empire State Building and see some eighty miles away?”
“I have heard that is true.”
“Can you imagine that? Why, that’s nearly from here to Inverness!” She shook her head incredulously. “Will you be staying long in the village, then, or are you just passing through?”
“I’ll be staying at least a little while.”
“Isn’t that lovely? Where are you staying, then?”
“At the Crofter’s Cottage.”
“Ah, the sweet
Sassunach
sisters’ place. Yes, they run a nice house there, they do. They’ll take care of you right well. Well, ’tis glad I am you’re staying even for a little while. Most pass through the village on the way to someplace else. But there’s much to see here, too. Well, I certainly hope you’ll enjoy your stay here in the village. We’re not nearly as foreboding as the name implies. In fact, quite the opposite. I’m Ellie Mackay, by the way.”
The woman held out her hand, and Libby shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mackay. I’m Libby Hutchinson.”
“Welcome, Libby Hutchinson. If there’s anything I can do for you, all you need do is ask.”
Libby nodded. “Actually, I’ve come to the village on a bit of family research.”
“Have you now? Well, I’ve lived in this village all my life. Perhaps I could be of help, although I’m afraid I dinna recall any family named Hutchinson ever having lived here.”
“It is my mother’s family I’m looking for. She was born here, before she emigrated to America over thirty years ago. Her name was Matilde. Matilde Mackay.”
Though she tried hard to mask it, the change in Ellie Mackay’s expression was almost instantaneous. The sunny smile faded to a look of cautious speculation. “Indeed,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “Matilde Mackay, you say? And you’re her daughter ...”
“Yes. She would have been about thirty years of age when she left the village.”
She stared at Libby, chewed her bottom lip, then shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid I cannot say I ever knew of any Matilde Mackay.”
“You’re certain?”
She looked away, making a pretense of neatening an already neat display of candy bars. “Yes, quite. Will the postcard and postage be all, then?”
Libby simply nodded.
Ellie rang up the purchases quickly, accepted the pound note in payment, and returned the change. “Perhaps you’ve got the name of the village wrong. If you asked your mum again ...”
Libby shook her head, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I cannot do that. My mother has passed away.”
“She’s ... ?” Ellie looked genuinely saddened by the news. Too saddened for having heard the news about the passing of a total stranger. “Oh, I’m so sorry, child.”
Libby wanted to press her, but she sensed she wouldn’t get very far. The woman almost seemed afraid to talk to Libby all of a sudden. So instead Libby thanked her, and turned to leave. As she closed the door and stepped back out onto the footpath, Libby couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something there, something she wasn’t being told.
Chapter Four
Libby was met with the same response all along the village’s high street, at the hardware store, the petrol station, and even at the pub. No one, it
“You’ll be wanting postage for the card, then?”
Libby smiled, nodded.
“Where will you be posting to, then? ’Twill determine the amount of postage you’ll be needin’.”
“The United States,” Libby answered.
“Oh, I thought you might be American. From what part?”
“New York,” Libby answered, and then added, “But I was born in Boston.”
“Ah, New York,” the woman nodded. “I’ve always wanted to go there, just once, to see it. It must be so exciting to live there, so many people and things to see.”
“Yes, it can be.”
“Is it true when they say you can stand on top of the Empire State Building and see some eighty miles away?”
“I have heard that is true.”
“Can you imagine that? Why, that’s nearly from here to Inverness!” She shook her head incredulously. “Will you be staying long in the village, then, or are you just passing through?”
“I’ll be staying at least a little while.”
“Isn’t that lovely? Where are you staying, then?”
“At the Crofter’s Cottage.”
“Ah, the sweet
Sassunach
sisters’ place. Yes, they run a nice house there, they do. They’ll take care of you right well. Well, ’tis glad I am you’re staying even for a little while. Most pass through the village on the way to someplace else. But there’s much to see here, too. Well, I certainly hope you’ll enjoy your stay here in the village. We’re not nearly as foreboding as the name implies. In fact, quite the opposite. I’m Ellie Mackay, by the way.”
The woman held out her hand, and Libby shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mackay. I’m Libby Hutchinson.”
“Welcome, Libby Hutchinson. If there’s anything I can do for you, all you need do is ask.”
Libby nodded. “Actually, I’ve come to the village on a bit of family research.”
“Have you now? Well, I’ve lived in this village all my life. Perhaps I could be of help, although I’m afraid I dinna recall any family named Hutchinson ever having lived here.”
“It is my mother’s family I’m looking for. She was born here, before she emigrated to America over thirty years ago. Her name was Matilde. Matilde Mackay.”
Though she tried hard to mask it, the change in Ellie Mackay’s expression was almost instantaneous. The sunny smile faded to a look of cautious speculation. “Indeed,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “Matilde Mackay, you say? And you’re her daughter ...”
“Yes. She would have been about thirty years of age when she left the village.”
She stared at Libby, chewed her bottom lip, then shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid I cannot say I ever knew of any Matilde Mackay.”
“You’re certain?”
She looked away, making a pretense of neatening an already neat display of candy bars. “Yes, quite. Will the postcard and postage be all, then?”
Libby simply nodded.
Ellie rang up the purchases quickly, accepted the pound note in payment, and returned the change. “Perhaps you’ve got the name of the village wrong. If you asked your mum again ...”
Libby shook her head, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I cannot do that. My mother has passed away.”
“She’s ... ?” Ellie looked genuinely saddened by the news. Too saddened for having heard the news about the passing of a total stranger. “Oh, I’m so sorry, child.”
Libby wanted to press her, but she sensed she wouldn’t get very far. The woman almost seemed afraid to talk to Libby all of a sudden. So instead Libby thanked her, and turned to leave. As she closed the door and stepped back out onto the footpath, Libby couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something there, something she wasn’t being told.
Chapter Four
Libby was met with the same response all along the village’s high street, at the hardware store, the petrol station, and even at the pub. No one, it
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