We Are Shadows

Chapter 31

Hi my cyber bookworms, sorry my updates have been few and far between but while battling health problems I lost sight of the story and how I wanted it to go.  Thankfully over the last three weeks I have re-read it and have got myself back on track.  So here is the next chapter, hope you enjoy.  

P.S.  Over the next few weeks I am going to be editing this story, removing errors and such.  I may even add a few more explanations but the basic plot will remain the same. So forgive the fact that you will probably receive a lot of notifications regarding updates to this story.

Chapter 31

RPOV

It's been a week since Abe's jet touched down at Edinburgh Airport and I was so excited when the wheels touched the runway. If you had asked me this time last year whether I would ever leave Montana, let alone the States, I would have said you were nuts but in the last six months, I've lived in Russia, Turkey and now here in Scotland. This place is beautiful. The journey from the airport took about an hour and there was nothing but small towns, woods, hills, beaches, fields that go for miles and golf courses. Lots and lots of golf courses. What's with that? People hitting a small ball with a rod of metal hundreds of yards to get it into a small hole. Confuses the hell out of me why anyone would find that fun. But pushing that aside the courses are lovely. I must admit I was expecting mountains, snow and the single track roads you see in movies but it was mostly low laying land. Apparently this area is called East Lothian and according to Abe, is still classed as lowland Scotland so that was why I wasn't seeing any of the things I thought I would see but I still think this place is amazing. Where else would you be able to step out of your house and see the sea from wherever you were? Well maybe not everywhere but it seems like that to me.

Abe's house is nestled in some woodland just on the east coast situated between two harbour towns called North Berwick and Dunbar. Abe calls it a steading which I'm reliably told is what the Scottish call a farm and its buildings. Well whatever it is, it's lovely. By Abe's standards, it's a modest dwelling made completely out of stone and it is said to be a listed building, which means that it is a restored building of historical importance and has to be looked after properly. Most of the building is just one story but in places there are stairs up to roof spaces that have been converted into bedrooms. My room is in such a place. I say room, it's actually a suite of rooms like I had in Turkey. Abe likes his comforts and makes sure everyone is also provided for. In the bedroom was massive bed which much have been a nightmare to get up those stairs, huge wooden wardrobe which I could believe was the entrance to Narnia, a huge chest of drawers that screamed antique and a beautiful dressing table with a three leaved mirror standing on it and a velvet covered stool to sit. The rest of the rooms in the suite were just as plush and antique as the bedroom furniture. Would it be bad of me to say that I preferred this to the villa in Turkey? It was comforting and it felt like, home.

It wasn't until the next day that I realised Abe was telling the truth that this was a modest house. The estate next to Abe's land was Tyninghame House and house just didn't do it justice. To me it was a castle! It was nearly as big as St Vladimir's. I asked Abe who lived there but he said that it was now turned into apartments like most of the big houses around here. Abe stated that quite a lot of the big houses had been sold off to pay death duties, taxes or even sold because there were no members of the family left. I thought that was sad but can you imagine living in one of those turrets? Oh wow.

Then there was the view. Until I left St Vladimir's I had never seen the sea. Obviously on the way to Russia I only saw it from an aeroplane but it was still my first glimpse. That has now all changed. Here I sit, on a beach and it is a proper sandy beach not a pebbly one, although there is one of those further down the coast, the tide lapping onto it in a steady rhythm. Yes it's still only March and Scotland isn't exactly the tropics, however, there is some warmth in that sun above me and it is beautiful. I have a view of what looks like a small mountain in the sea. The lighthouse stands out all white as a contrast to the sky and the green on the top of the hill. Abe tells me that it is called Bass Rock and it is a bird sanctuary. People can take boat trips out to have a look but they are strictly regulated so that nothing upsets the wildlife. It would be lovely to see but animals and birds don't like dhampir, we must smell wrong or something, so I will content myself to just watching the birds diving from afar.