Finally, she thought, and opened it.
Dear Deb,
To answer your question about pictures of parties from the history of Loch Cameron to use as inspiration for the May Day party. You should find some interesting pictures in the archive. Ask Anna to show you. I am happy for you to photocopy or scan images as you wish.
Thank you for your sterling work in organising everything so far, and I trust your judgement in all things. Here is the number for John, the contact for the waiting staff.
Trusting you are well,
Hal
‘Does the castle have an archive room?’ She looked up at Anna. ‘Hal says I can go down there and look for old photos and stuff for the party. Inspiration.’
‘Yes. I can take you down there. Now?’
‘That would be great.’ Deb got up and put her phone in her pocket. ‘If you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all. Follow me. Let me let the dog out first.’ Anna opened one of the long double doors and ushered Finnegan intothe garden. ‘This part of the garden’s enclosed. He’ll be fine out there, and he has a kennel if it gets wet,’ she explained.
Anna led Deb out into the long, wide hallway outside the drawing room. Deb’s boots clicked on the tiled floor; she had admired it many times and always assumed that it was probably Victorian, judging by the floral pattern.
‘This way.’ Anna opened a door at the end of the hallway and pulled a hanging light cord which exposed a narrow stairway going downwards. ‘Watch your step. This was built when people were smaller, I think. For small feet or something. Or, whoever built it wasn’t that bothered about the safety of whoever was using it.’
‘Was it for the servants, then?’ Deb asked as she dutifully watched where she stepped.
‘Yes. Some of the servants’ quarters are down here, and the main kitchen and old larder. Various store rooms we hardly use anymore. The archive’s just along here.’ Anna led her down a rather dark corridor, flicking on some lights as she went. Harsh, tubular light dinged on with a low hum.
‘Rather dingy.’ Anna opened a door, squinted in the dim light and turned on a nearby lamp. ‘There you are. Not quite as shadowy now. In you come.’
Deb stepped into a medium sized room with a long wooden table in its centre. Four chairs were tucked underneath it, as if waiting for a dinner party that would never happen. Around the walls sat a variety of glass-fronted cabinets and shelves filled with books stacked high towards the bare stone ceiling.
‘I suppose castles weren’t built with a modern demand for light, airy spaces,’ Deb said, taking in the leather trunks in the corner and the locked wooden bureau. ‘I like it, though. It’s atmospheric.’
‘It’s something, all right. Though I think that atmosphere’s mostly mildew.’ Anna sniffed. ‘There’s so much down here. Idoubt even Hal knows what all of it is,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Do you want me to give you a hand for a while?’
‘That’d be great. Thanks. Photos of parties, ideally, or written records of some of the details. If we could recreate one of the old recipes, or a centrepiece, something like that, it would be really great. Give a sense of history to the party,’ Deb explained.
‘Right. On it.’ Anna turned away and started to look through the shelf opposite.
Deb opened one of the cabinets and looked in, curiously.
‘Have you got any idea where I should start?’ She looked over at Anna.
‘I’m not sure, but I know that bit is mostly journals from the Chamberlain of the Estate.’ Anna glanced over at her.
‘These?’ Deb held up a large old fashioned loose-leaf folder for Anna to see.
‘Yes, that’s them. I’ve had a little look before, here and there – they’re quite interesting, sometimes. You get a bit of local scandal.’
‘Hmm. This guy is talking about how one family in the village were stealing cattle from another family, and the Laird had to get involved and sort it out.’
‘What did the Chamberlain of the Estate do?’ Deb started flicking through the densely handwritten pages. It was all very neat, copperplate ink writing, with dates and margin notes.
‘It was a kind of role like an Estate Manager.’ Anna looked up from a leather-bound book she was looking at. ‘He would have cared for everything on a day-to-day level for the Laird. Which one are you reading?’
‘Osbert Vaughan. Not a very Scottish name.’ Deb consulted the cover of the folio. ‘This is dated 1813. It’s amazing that it’s still here.’ She put it down on the table.
‘I know. It’s a wonderful record of the area.’ Anna nodded.
