The Scottish Connection

Daniel settled himself into his window seat and gazed at Glasgow’s red sandstone buildings for the last time. The train snaked across the criss-cross of tracks as Daniel’s thoughts turned to the north, to the Isle of Lewis.

Hopes of finding clues about his family had quickly turned to frustration as each of the positive leads he’d brought with him from Kalbarri, his home town on Australia’s west coast, disappeared like a cloud of dust stirred up by a willy-willy.

With his trip to Scotland nearing its end, Daniel had a niggling feeling that he’d missed a vital clue, something that could lead him to the answers he craved. As the train picked up speed, he reviewed the conversations he’d had with residents on Lewis and reread the notes that littered the table in front of him.

The appearance of an elderly man in the aisle broke Daniel’s train of thought.

‘Is this seat taken?’ The man’s Scottish brogue was broad, reminding Daniel of his stay on Lewis again. It had taken days for Daniel to understand what his Scottish hosts had been saying, the dialect at times unintelligible.

Daniel smiled. ‘No, please,’ he replied, waving towards the two vacant seats opposite him.

‘So, where are you off to?’ asked the man as he folded his waterproof jacket and placed it on the rack above the seats.

‘London,’ replied Daniel, with a hint of regret.

‘Oh, a wonderful city, but not a patch on Lewis,’ the man added with pride, looking across at Daniel.

‘The name’s Mackenzie, Mackenzie Stuart,’ said the old man. Daniel took his outstretched hand and shook it. ‘Daniel Raglan,’ he replied.

‘So, lad, what are you doing in Scotland? Are you on holiday?’ asked the affable Scot. ‘From your accent, I can tell you’re not from around these parts.’

‘Well, yes. I’ve wanted to visit Scotland for years but never had the opportunity until now.’ Daniel glanced out of the window at the distant hills, where the autumn’s purple heather clung to the slopes.

‘Why so sad?’ asked Mackenzie, seeing the slump of Daniel’s shoulders.

Daniel reluctantly drew his gaze from the rolling Scottish hills. There was something about Mackenzie. Although they’d only met a few minutes earlier, some sixth sense told Daniel that Mackenzie wouldn’t judge him whatever he said.

‘I lost my parents two years ago – a car crash,’ Daniel replied. ‘They’d been down to Perth for the weekend and were nearly home. Some young hoon over the limit smashed into them. They died instantly.’

Saying those words, reliving the moment the police arrived at his front door, brought the horror of the days that followed flooding back.

‘I’m so sorry. That must have been a terrible shock.’ Mackenzie sat quietly, knowing there was more to Daniel’s story.

‘For years, I’ve had an unexplained desire to visit Scotland; it drove my parents mad. I’ve always felt this was where I belonged. Does that make sense?’

Mackenzie nodded. ‘Sure, you’d be mad not to want to make this country your home, lad,’ he said, giving Daniel another crooked smile.

‘My parents left instructions in their will. I was to sell their smallholding and use part of the proceeds to pay for a trip to Scotland.’ Daniel paused. Then with a shake of his head, he continued. ‘It took a while to get their affairs in order, but here I am.’

‘Why so glum? Didn’t you say you always wanted to see this great country of ours?’

‘Yes, and it’s been fantastic! I just wish I had a reason to stay longer.’

‘Why don’t you, then? What’s stopping you?’ asked Mackenzie, somewhat confused.

‘I’ve business commitments back home in Australia. I fly back in five days. I took two months’ compassionate leave after my parents’ death; I needed time to grieve. Then, when I found out I was adopted, I took another month and flew here, hoping to find the answers I needed.’

Daniel took a deep breath as if making a difficult decision.

‘My parents never said anything to me about my adoption. There was no clue as to who my birth parents were, just a paragraph in my mother’s will telling me they’d adopted me when I was six weeks old and that I was born on Lewis. I was thirty when I found out. Think of it, to live all that time thinking I was one person when, in fact, I’m another!’

A tinge of anger in Daniel’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by Mackenzie. ‘But that explains your fascination for Scotland! It’s been in your blood all this while,’ exclaimed the older man. He paused for a moment. ‘But I still don’t understand why you’re so glum?’

Daniel’s frustration bubbled over. ‘I wanted to find my family! I’ve no one back in Australia. I’m an only child. There are no close family members either, as Mum and Dad emigrated to Australia when I was a baby. It’s the only life I’ve known. Now it’s gone, smashed to smithereens by some mindless idiot!’

The conversation paused with the arrival of a tea trolley pushed by a young woman with long auburn hair tied back with a tartan ribbon.

‘Tea, coffee? And maybe a Turnock’s wafer?’ she asked, smiling.

The two men ordered coffee, and when the waitress placed their beverages on the table, Mackenzie offered to pay.

‘Thanks,’ acknowledged Daniel as he sipped his coffee.

The two men sat in amicable silence. A while later, Daniel wondered whether Mackenzie had fallen asleep; he’d not moved since the train had stopped at Oxenholme. Should I give him a nudge? Daniel pondered.

A few seconds later, Mackenzie gave a snort, sat bolt upright and rubbed his eyes. ‘Must have dozed off. Comes with old age,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘How far along are we? Anywhere near Crewe?’

Daniel looked at Mackenzie and experienced a feeling of friendship towards the older man. ‘Left about half an hour ago. Reckon we’ve got three hours until we reach London.’

‘What say you tell me a little more about your search? You never know; maybe I can help.’ Mackenzie nodded towards the papers lying on the table between them.

‘I’d certainly appreciate any help you can give. I’ve got snippets of information but nothing concrete. I keep looking at my notes, but all I seem to do is go around in circles.’

‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’ suggested Mackenzie. ‘From when you were born.’

Daniel rummaged through his papers and, finding the document he was looking for, handed it to Mackenzie.

‘That’s a copy of my adoption paper. As you can see by birth mother’s name is given as Michelle Craigey, but search as I might, I can’t find any trace of her or her family. I’m beginning to think it might not be her real name.’

The paper in Mackenzie’s hand shook a little; he quickly replaced the document on the table. Why was the name Craigey familiar? Mackenzie cursed his brain’s inability to remember.

‘What about a birth certificate? Do you have that?’ asked Mackenzie.

‘My Australian parents had one, but it only showed the name Craigey. There was no mention of my father.’

‘And where were you born?’

‘In Stornoway, on the Isle of Lewis. But that’s the end of the trail. I’ve contacted the adoption society there, and they’ve promised to look into the case, but I’ve heard nothing.

‘It does seem a mystery, lad. And while I’d love to help, I’m not sure I can add anything more to what you already know.’

‘Have you heard of a family called Craigey living on Lewis? Anything that can shed light on what happened to them?’ questioned Daniel.

Mackenzie turned his attention to the passing countryside. He needed a few minutes to think, to try to remember why the name Craigey seemed familiar.

Opposite him, Daniel shuffled through his papers again. ‘I’m beginning to think this trip was a mistake,’ he muttered in annoyance.

‘Now, now, lad. Come on. I’m sure something will turn up,’ answered Mackenzie as he turned back from the window.

An announcement that the train was nearing its final destination brought passengers to their feet. Daniel and Mackenzie remained seated, neither yet prepared to bid the other farewell.

Daniel collected his notes and returned them to his holdall. It struck Daniel that he knew nothing of his travel companion, that all the talk had centred around him and his quest to find his Scottish connections. Feeling somewhat guilty, Daniel asked, ‘So what about you? What brings you to London?’

Mackenzie gave another of his lopsided grins. ‘My granddaughter. I had a phone call from her two days ago. She was so excited, told me to jump on a train and get down to London!’

‘How intriguing! And you’ve no idea why you’re here?’ questioned Daniel.

‘No, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough. She said she’d meet me at the station.’

The two men exited the train and walked towards the barrier, where a tall young woman stood waving in their direction.

‘My granddaughter,’ explained Mackenzie with an affectionate smile as he walked towards the young woman.

‘It’s been an interesting journey; thanks for listening,’ said Daniel.

Mackenzie nodded, ‘It certainly has.’

The two reluctantly shook hands and went their separate ways.

‘Grandpa, you’re finally here!’ cried Becky, delight lighting her eyes as Mackenzie reached the barrier.

‘So, what was so urgent I had to jump on a train and come to London, then?’ asked Mackenzie as the two walked arm-in-arm.

‘I think I’ve found him!’ Becky replied, the excitement of her news making her breathless.

‘Who?’ Mackenzie asked, somewhat confused.

‘Your grandson, of course! The reason you paid for my Ancestry subscription!’ Becky replied, frustrated by her grandfather’s inability to keep up with her train of thought.

‘You found him?’ asked an incredulous Mackenzie.

‘Yes! His name’s Daniel Raglan! He lives in Australia! He was adopted! That’s why we couldn’t find him! Grandma Michelle ran off with one of the sheep shearers who visited the island every summer; John Craigey. She died two days after giving birth, and because John lived a nomadic life, he put the baby up for adoption. That’s why we’ve been unable to find him until now!’ replied Becky as she hugged her grandfather. ‘Come on, let’s go, Grandad; I want to tell you how I found him,’ urged Becky, pulling her grandfather towards a nearby coffee shop.

Mackenzie turned and frantically searched the crowd. He spotted Daniel heading towards the Underground entrance.

‘What’s the matter, Grandad? Who are you looking for? What’s going on?’ questioned Becky worried at her grandfather’s behaviour.

‘Daniel! He’s here! I travelled down with him! Come on, Becky, we can’t lose him again!’ declared Mackenzie as he rushed in pursuit of his long-lost grandson.