She was doing her best not to think about Greg. When her cellphone rang, she jumped. She wasn’t expecting a call. At first, she thought it might be Greg but nope, unknown number.
“Hello?” she said, holding it up to her ear.
“Is that Miss MacCallister?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“Hi, my name’s Albert Drayton. I work for Time to Move. You signed up for alerts on our website, is that right?”
“Oh, did I? Have you got something for me?”
“I’m not going to lie, it’s not the greatest property but it’s the only thing we’ve got in your price range.”
“Where is it?”
“MacCallister Castle.”
“Sorry, what?”
“MacCallister Castle. Have you heard of it?”
“Heard of it? I’m writing a book about it.”
“Oh, well that’s great. Would you like me to arrange for you to have a look around?”
“Hang on.” Something suddenly occurred to her. “Is this a joke? Did Karen put you up to this?”
Drayton sounded confused. “Who’s Karen?”
“Never mind. Just answer me this. How is MacCallister Castle in my price range?”
There was silence on the other end for a moment. “It’s been on the market for a while. It’s proving…challenging to let out.”
“Why? It’s not falling down is it?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just been difficult to get anyone to take it on. The landlord’s been forced to drop the price a couple of times and when I saw your details, I gave him a ring and asked if he’d drop it enough to make it worth you looking. You are looking for long term, right?”
“If it’s the right place, I could spend the rest of my life there. When can I come and see it?”
“When are you free?”
“Anytime,” she said, that single word containing a lot of information. No job. No boyfriend. No house. She was as free as anyone could be.
“Great, can you manage tomorrow afternoon?”
“You do Sunday viewings?”
“Of course. Shall we say three o’clock.”
“Perfect.”
“See you tomorrow then.”
She made a note in her diary of the time before putting her cellphone on charge. It didn’t seem possible. MacCallister Castle. The place where the MacGregors had died out if the rumors were to be believed. She hardly dared to hope she might live there. The place was closed to the public, so she’d only been able to see it from her bedroom window.
As far as she knew it had been empty for years, centuries maybe. Some of the books said the place was cursed, that a mysterious silver key had damned the MacGregors and then the MacCallisters in turn.
She didn’t know about that, but she did sometimes wonder if any MacGregor skeletons werethere, buried in some hidden dungeon by their bitter rivals.
