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We didn’t answer.
“To piss off Alice!” She tossed her head back in a hearty laugh, and we all groaned at the stupid joke.
“Hello, ladies! What can I get you?” the red-headed bartender asked as he tossed napkins in front of us.
Marge stopped her laughing and propped an elbow on the bar. “What do the locals drink?”
“Scotch,” he answered quickly.
“Four Scotches it is!” Marge ordered for us.
Even though I didn’t think I’d want a Scotch, I didn’t dare argue. I just wanted to slink into a hole and stay there after what I’d done.
“Coming right up!” With a toothy grin, he spun around to grab the glasses. He slid them in front of us then poured the golden liquor into them. “There ya go.”
“Start us a tab?” Sylvie said. “And can we get some lunch menus?”
“Coming right up,” he answered. “I’m Ewan. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Ewan,” I answered.
A moment later the menus slid in front of us, and as he started away, he spun back and faced Marge. “Okay, I’ve got to ask. You get in a brawl ‘er somethin’?”
As she’d done many times since the accidents, she just smiled and pointed to her eye then her mouth. “Kangaroo. Surfboard.”
Ewan blinked back at her. “Now that I wasn’t expecting. I don’t shock easily. I’m a bartender in Scotland. Well done. That drink’s on me.”
“Hey!” She grabbed her Scotch and lifted it, giving him that smile showcasing her missing tooth. “Totally worth the pain I went through for a free drink!”
He gave her a high-five then told us he’d be back to take our order.
“I love Scotland!” Marge said after taking a sip of her Scotch. “Great wish, Doris.”
“I’m so glad you’re liking it. I am too,” I answered. “It really was fun sleeping in a castle.”
Alice lifted an eyebrow. “Well, except for the haunting part, right?”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I remembered how I’d felt hearing those voices.
“Stop scaring her!” Sylvie swatted her arm. “The castle isn’t haunted.”
“What castle?” Ewan asked as he came by.
“McCallum Castle,” Alice responded.
Ewan’s eyes widened. “Oh, that place is haunted all right.”
“What?” we all echoed, and my heart stalled out in my chest.
“Oh yes.” He leaned forward on the bar. “Sad story too.”
“What ... what is the story?” I asked, my voice breaking.
“Well, back in the seventeen hundreds, the family that lived there had a daughter. A real beauty named Agnes. She was the most beautiful woman in all the land, and all the wealthy lords were fighting for the right to her hand. Her father was using her as leverage to gain even more standing than they already had, and poor Agnes had no say in the life that awaited her.”
We all listened silently while he went on.
“But Agnes had fallen for the stable boy, Duncan. They were young and in love, and Agnes wanted nothing to do with all the suitors lining up for her. All she wanted was her beloved. Every night, she would climb out her window using the trellises to meet Duncan in the gardens, and the two young lovers would sneak off to the stables to be together.”
