Chapter 1

“Eight O’clock at Barkers then?”

“Definitely!” Juliet replied to her best friend Danielle, who was sat in the cubicle next to her. “A killer dress and fuck me heels...”

“Times two...” Danielle agreed.

They had known each other since school, parted ways at college and then bumped into each other again in a club. A five minute chat to say hello had turned into an hour, then a coffee at a much quieter café nearby. Danielle had been looking for a better -and better paid- job and Juliet knew of one at her place. A week later the two of them were sat in adjoining cubicles. They had eventually moved in together, the initial main barrier to doing so being that they both liked their independence, and there was a little personal reticence because they both liked to take different men home on a regular basis and worried a little about what the other would think of their personal life. Though that had been changing lately as they had become closer and found out, that whilst they shared similar tastes in both men and private life, there were enough differences to ensure that they were not totally competing against each other.

“Are you going to wear the one wi...” Juliet started as her phone rang “Hang on sec.” She lifted the handset from the cradle “Yes?”

“Is this Juliet Stronach?”

“Errr, yes, can I ask who is calling?”

“Sorry, yes. My name is Malcom Cowley from Cowley associates. We specialise in estate management.”

“Estate management?”

“Yes, we are a legal firm specialising in wills, probates, validity of succession, that sort of stuff.”

“Oh. Okaaay...” Juliet said somewhat cautiously, wondering what any of this had to do with her. Her parents had died in a plane crash a decade previous, and there had not been much estate. Mostly just debt, which had swallowed up almost all the pay-out from the airline, with the remainder being used to fund her college tuition.

“We have located an estate in which you are the sole beneficiary...”

“Let me just stop you there. Does this estate become available after I have deposited a handling fee in a crypto wallet, at which point a further request will be made to cover ‘admin fee’s’ and then after that payment is made to a crypto wallet, another payment is ‘needed’ to cover an ‘unforeseen complication’? No thanks.” Juliet replaced the handset ending the call. “Fucking scammers.”

Danielle popped her head round the dividing partition. “Have you just won the Nigerian lottery for the third time this month?”

“Yeah...” Her landline rang again. “Juliet Stronach.”

“Apologies Miss Stronach, Malcom Cowley from Cowley associates again. I can assure you that I am genuine, no need to pay any funds as our fee is taken directly from the estate. We have a website that you can search for. And ring direct if you wish. Our office is in Boston, if you wish to attend in person- which I would actually recommend as documents do need to be signed.”

“And how much is this estate?”

“I am not privy to the full amount and I wouldn’t say fully over the phone, even if I knew...”

“Uh-huh...” Juliet snorted and started to tense muscles in preparation of replacing the handset again.

“Out-with the financials, the estate itself, I do believe to consist of around 340 acres which includes part of a salmon river with several self-catering properties alongside, commercial forestry and a castle.”

“A castle.” Juliet froze. Danielle pushed down on her heels, forcing her wheeled chair to scoot back and clear the dividing partition. She met Juliet’s gaze with raised eyebrows. Juliet shook her head at her. “A castle. In America...”

“No, no, no, the estate is not in America, it’s in the United Kingdom. Scotland, to be precise.”

“SCOTLAND!” Juliet’s voice came out as a startled squeal that silenced the background murmur of voices as heads popped up above the partitions to look at her.

“Yes that is correct.” The line went quiet. “Miss Stronach?. Hello? Miss Stronach?”

“It’s, it’s ... Umm, I don’t know what to say. Is this genuine? Not a wind up?”

“I can assure you Miss Stronach that this is not a wind up.”

“What am I going to do with a castle?”

“Whatever one does with a castle.”

“Like, you are serious?”

“I can send you pictures of the estate if you wish. I can either send you physical copies or electronically. Though I do believe you can Google the estate and the properties it contains.”

Juliet still wasn’t convinced “Hmmm...”

“I’ll let you process it and contact you again in a few days. If you wish, you can ring the office before then.”

Replacing the handset, Juliet looked to her friend, who wasn’t there. “Danny?” Juliet peered round the divider to see her friend perusing some photo’s on her computer.

“The place actually does exist, and the owner did indeed die recently, car crash. Says here that they are looking for next of kin.”

“What should I do?”

“Give him a ring Jules! It’s a freaking castle!”

“Could all passengers return to their seats in preparation of donning their lap belts for landing. Thank you.” The tannoy clicked off and the plane staff started making their way down the aisles, requesting that the passengers stowed away their tables and clutter.

“Look at that!” Danielle exclaimed as she took out her phone and took repeated pictures of the three bridges. Juliet peered past her, snapping a few pictures of her own. The last few months had been a whirlwind of paperwork. Neither possessed passports and they had to visit a passport office to speed up the process, along with a visit to a consulate office, so that Juliet could apply for an extended visa. Whilst this wasn’t their first time on a plane, it was their first time outside of America and the long flight made them Itchy and restless.

Passing through customs without issue, they didn’t stop at baggage reclaim. Juliet had been advised to take as little as possible to ease the changeover, as the connecting flight didn’t leave much leeway for delay. It also allowed them the advantage of taking back more luggage without accruing penalty charges. There was just enough time to have something to eat and have a quick look around a gift shop before it was time to board the next flight. The second flight was in a much smaller plane and they had another chance to look at the bridges and a brief glimpse of Edinburgh castle and volcano in the distance.

The flat land under the small plane turned quickly to mountains and barely thirty minutes after they had taken off, they were descending. “Fuck me, they like their bridges here.” Danielle commented dryly as she looked down and took another picture of the long bridge beneath them.

The landing was a bit bumpier and there was no connecting gantry between plane and terminal like there had been at Edinburgh, though the walk from plane to terminal didn’t appear far, a hundred meters or so. The blast of cold that met Juliet at the doorway made her draw a surprised breath. “Jesus suffering fuck!” Danielle exclaimed from behind “It wasn’t this fucking cold in Edin-what’s-its-face.”

No, it certainly wasn’t Juliet silently agreed, as she pulled her totally inadequate light jacket closed and scurried as quickly as dignity would allow to the terminal. The terminal was easily the smallest she had ever been in. As the other few passengers -the plane had been barely half full- headed for baggage reclaim, Juliet and Danielle looked around. There didn’t appear to be any customs or security and they found themselves on the fringe of the main concourse with an eclectic mix of families and burly men -a lot of burly men- who stared at them with barely concealed lust.

“Now what?” Danielle asked.

“No idea.”

“Are we supposed to get a taxi or something?”

“I’ve got a number to phone, I think ... It’s in my bag ... somewhere.”

“Juliet?”

Juliet looked up as an older woman, mid-forties Juliet reckoned, approached them. “Err yes?”

“Hi, I’m Lorraine. We spoke on the phone?”

“Oh hi Lorraine!” The pair of them embraced “This is Danielle, my friend who I told you about.”

“Hi Danielle.” Another quick embrace “Good flight?”

“Urgh...” Juliet screwed up her face “How did you find us?”

Lorraine laughed. “Very easily. I knew from the manifest that you had made the connecting flight, so it was simply a case of looking to where all the oil workers were staring. Two girls in their early twenties, with American accents, it wasn’t really much of a challenge.”

“No. I suppose it wasn’t.” Juliet looked back at the burly men, who we still staring. She had the feeling that she was being raped multiple times by gaze alone.

Lorraine followed Juliet’s gaze to the men. “Can I help you gents?” She asked loudly. The men, as one, quickly looked elsewhere. “Well, we’d better get on, as we still have a bit to go. Is that all your luggage?” Danielle and Juliet nodded as Lorraine led them out the front of the building, past a motley collection of vehicles that were all proclaiming to be taxis. It was strange looking at taxis that weren’t all a uniform shape and yellow colour.

The outside temperature hadn’t become any warmer, though Lorraine didn’t seem perturbed by it in her sensible boots, jeans and T-shirt. Juliet Looked down ruefully at her sandaled bare feet. Lorraine led the way purposely across the short stay car park towards a Land Rover Discovery three. Which beeped as they approached and clunked as the locks disengaged. “Hop in.” Lorraine said as she took their bags and placed them neatly in the rear of the vehicle.

Danielle climbed into the rear as Juliet opened the front door and was stopped mid entry by the existence of a steering wheel that shouldn’t have been there. “Oops. I forget that you drive on the wrong side.” She shut the door and headed round to the passenger side as Lorraine slipped in behind the wheel.

Lorraine looked in the rear view mirror at Danielle. “In Scotland you need to wear a seatbelt in the back.” Danielle pulled out the belt and clicked it into place as Lorraine started the engine. Juliet was surprised to note that the drive was stick rather than automatic.

The urban area they drove past as they approached the bridge, was Inverness, according to Lorraine. It seemed to be very industrial, lots of one story warehouses, some fuel or gas tanks and some silos.

There was almost no residential tower blocks. It didn’t really look like a city to be honest. They climbed up on the bridge and Juliet could see oil rigs in the distance.

“Is this Loch Ness?” Danielle asked.

Lorraine Laughed. “No it’s Rosemarkie Bay. It’s connected to the Moray Firth and from there to the North Sea. Sometimes, if you are lucky, you can catch pods of dolphins.”

“Really?” Juliet asked. Lorraine nodded. They were very high up on the bridge and Juliet looked down at the water, but didn’t see anything that looked like it might be a pod of dolphins. The dual carriageway became single carriageway and then narrowed further in a rather alarming fashion. Not that it seemed to phase Lorraine much as she casually passed timber lorries travelling the other way.

A small, Juliet wasn’t sure what they called them over here, town? Hamlet? Approached, gated by a red circle with the number thirty in the middle on either side of the road. Lorraine changed down gear and a black box below the sign lit up with a Smiley face. “There is a wee shop in the village, I can stop if you want? If you need food or anything?”

“Thanks. We could do with picking up some food.” Lorraine pulled up in a vacant space and they all trooped into the shop. The shop was crammed with shelves reaching almost all the way up to the ceiling. There were baskets one side of the door, shopping trolleys the other. Juliet and Danielle took a basket each. Everything was so different. Some items looked the same to what they were used to, but the words and the names were completely different. It didn’t really feel like they were shopping in an English language shop. They had brought toiletries, so they mainly stocked up on food for a few days. There was alcohol behind the cashier so they bought a couple of bottles of wine. A little bit of confusion followed with regards to money, but they quickly got to grips with it. Juliet had googled ‘The pound’ before they had flown over. Whilst in the queue to be served, Juliet had been eavesdropping on the conversations going on around them. It was very hard to follow the accent.

The food joined their hand luggage in the back of the Discovery and they set off yet again. They chatted about nothing in particular. Safe, non-inflammatory subjects. On a long straight, one of the better bits of the road so far, Lorraine slowed down, flicking on the Discovery’s indicator as she slowed to a stop next to some decomposing flowers and some grubby teddy bears. “This is where your Great Aunt died. Do you want to get out?”

Juliet shook her head “Maybe later.”

“Okay.” Lorraine cancelled the indicator and worked her way back up the gears. The open peat land gave way to pine forest and ten minutes on from the scene of her Great Aunts demise, Lorraine turned off the main road into a single track road with no sign other than one proclaiming ‘Private no entry.’ It was not a long road, a kilometre or so through the pines, red squirrels bounding across their path. “Apparently,” Lorraine spoke “There had been gardens originally, but the forest has steadily encroached over the years.” There was a curtain wall which Juliet had no idea as to whether it was of practical function or purely decorative. The double doors in the gatehouse were wide open and in poor condition. Lorraine drove through into a large space with a non-functioning fountain in the middle and the castle come mansion behind. “The key is in the glove box.” Juliet opened it up and rummaged through the packets of pocket tissues and make up sets, moving a large chunk of metal to the side in her hunt before realising that the large chunk of metal was the key.

Juliet lifted it out. “You’ll struggle to get this in a clutch bag.” She held it up so Danielle in the back could see.

“Flipping ‘eck. Are you opening a door or taking part in a sword fight?”

Lorraine parked the Disco between the door and the fountain. Danielle wondered over to look in the basin of the fountain whilst Juliet tried the key in the lock, which turned surprisingly easily. The door also opened easily, the hinges well-oiled and greased. Danielle came over and they entered together.

They had seen most of the interior online, but it was no-where near the same experience as seeing it in person. There was an air of, something. Age, history, damp? Juliet couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Something that you didn’t get in modern builds, that was for sure.

“It’s bigger than it looks in the pictures” Danielle remarked. “Does it have ghosts?”

Lorraine laughed. “None that have been reported.”

Juliet looked at her friend in horror. “What do you want ghosts for!”

“Oh I don’t know, I think it would be pretty cool.”

“If you want ghosts Dany, get your own castle...”

There was the sound of an engine and a small Nissan Micra appeared through the gate and pulled up behind the discovery. “That’s Mrs Thompson. She used to clean for your late Great Aunt.” A woman who didn’t look capable of cleaning a bungalow let alone a small castle, stepped out and made her way over. “I’ll let her show you around, as I need to make some phone calls. Jean, this Juliet and her friend Danielle. I think it would be fitting if you give them a tour and tell them a little about its history.”

Jean nodded. “Foo’re ye deein? Follow me quines. I’ll tell ye aboot it if ye wanna te ken mair?” And the woman was off, both verbally and physically as the two girls shared an amused look and chased after her. Jean stopped in each room and verbally machine gunned away. In the corridor between rooms, Danielle leaned into her friend and whispered in her ear. “Is she polish or something? Do you understand a word she is saying?” Juliet gave a hopeless confused shrug and the pair of them tried not to laugh. There were a lot of rooms, almost all of them covered in dust sheets. There was even a small Chapel in one of the wings, complete with an altar at one end, with Christ on his cross on the wall behind, a small organ to the side and eight pews with a central aisle facing the altar. It was clean and had the look of continued regular use. There was even the small speakers of a PA system in the arches of the ceiling vaults, though Juliet wondered if that was overkill in a chapel this small.

After the tour and historically none the wiser for it, the three of them met up with Lorraine in a small kitchen. The kitchen must have been a store room or something for the actual kitchen, which still contained fixtures and fittings from a century ago. The kitchen had obviously originally had an open hearth which had been ‘modernised’ at some point the previous century with a large solid fuel stove. The flue of which had been plumbed into the existing hearth. The room which may have been a storeroom/pantry, had been refitted into a fairly modern kitchen with a microwave, other appliances and a cooker that was only, possibly, forty years old. Juliet was fairly certain that it was older than she was. There was also a kettle and coffee. The other two ladies said their goodbyes and departed in their vehicles. Juliet could hear the gravel crunch in the distance as they left the courtyard.

Danielle placed the kettle under the tap expecting it to bang, spurt, splutter and generally sound like there was a madman tied to the pipes somewhere, she was rather surprised and admittedly a little let down when clear water burst forth under obvious pressure and without untoward sound. Their bags had been placed next to the table, which was currently festooned with paperwork and Danielle rummaged in one of the bags for the milk they had bought. They had bought coffee as well. but there was some already on the counter and they were feeling adventurous enough to give it a go.

The kettle clicked and Danielle filled two mugs she had eventually found in a cupboard. Moving some paperwork aside to reveal a bit of table, she placed a mug down upon it, pulled out a chair and sat down, cradling her mug. She took a sip and stared at her friend. Juliet looked up, matched her gaze and as one, they burst out into laughter.

“This is fucking mad.” Juliet finally said when the laughter calmed down. “I mean,” she pointed to the table top “Where do you even start?”

Danielle nodded to the wine on the countertop. “I know where I plan to start.”

“Fuck off...”

They laughed again. “Well,” Danielle slowly said after a taking a sip of her coffee, “Your dating chances have improved somewhat...”

“Hmm ... I’m not so sure, did you see the size of the local town?”

“Forget the size of the town, did you see some of the boys? Jesus fuck, it’s like the locals in the film Deliverance. What’s the bet their sisters are their mothers ... Does your estate come with a runway by any chance?”

Juliet flicked through some of the paperwork “I don’t think so.”

“That’s a shame. How much does it cost to build one do you reckon...”

“I’ve got a river. How about one of those planes that land on water...?”

Danielle affected an overly posh accent “‘I have a river... ‘ I remember when you used to be one of us...”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“Fuck knows. Every time I look around I expect some security guard to appear, rush over and order me to get back behind the barrier. Seriously, some of those rooms are bigger than our entire flat!!!”

“I know. Mad isn’t it.”

“Come on, let’s have another look shall we?”

Juliet looked down at the paperwork. “Okay. But don’t get us lost.”

“We could lay some string behind us, chalk some arrows on the walls, or something.”

“Oi! Don’t you start graffiting on my walls!” The laughed and joked as they walked along the long stone corridor. The central staircase was about as grand as the original builders could make it with their abilities of the time. At the top of the staircase there was a circular shield surrounded by swords. Danielle paused for a closer look. The swords seemed to just be resting on their mount. She couldn’t help herself, put her mug on the banister rail and slipped her hand into the basket of the lowest one. She heaved on it, expecting to brandish it like some modern day American highlander.

The Claymore only lifted a little, but that little was enough to clear the support. “Fuck!!!” Danielle held on out of panic as the point plunged to the ground. She managed, just, to move her left foot out of the way of the descending point, which impacted into the granite floor, gouging out a small chip which shot past Juliet’s head, making her take a hasty dodge to the side. Danielle looked down at the small chip. “Umm ... I don’t think that’s going to polish out anytime soon...” She tried again to lift the claymore and again failed. “Err, Jules, I’m going to need a hand. This weighs a fucking tonne...”

Juliet took careful hold of the blade and between them, they managed to get the sword back onto its mount. “Jules, your house isn’t very child friendly...”

“Let’s move away from the heavy, sharp, pointy things shall we...”

Danielle retrieved her half-drunk coffee from the banister and they continued their wander. It felt wrong to Juliet to open cupboards and drawers to peer inside at the sometimes truly bizarre contents. It still hadn’t sunk in, and probably wouldn’t do for a few days yet, that it was all hers. Most of the rooms upstairs were covered almost totally in dust sheets. Mouse traps were positioned just inside the doors, some were already needing emptied and re-set. “What room do you want?” Juliet asked of her friend.

“Are there any that don’t need a bus ride to get across them?”

“I don’t think so...”

“Jules, how did your Great Aunt not go mad with the solitude.”

“Who’s to say that she didn’t.”

“Fair one.” They looked under dust sheets and moved on. Danielle stopped at a glass display box and peered in at a rather vindictive looking cat sized four legged furry thing, which was snarling and revealing a set of painful looking teeth. This was no herbivore. She tapped on the glass with a fingernail, hoping that whatever was inside didn’t move. “The last time I saw this many stuffed animals. I was ten and on a sleepover...”

Juliet moved over to her and also looked at the thing inside. “Can you imagine taking that thing to a sleepover ... Alive or dead...”

“No. But I have a rough idea of the years of therapy needed afterwards. Do you think it’s teeth were that straight in real life or were they straightened after...?” They made their way slowly from room to room “Jules?”

“Hmm?”

“You can’t sell this place, think of the parties...”

“You’re just thinking of the debauchery...”

“Debauchery. Now there’s a word. Naked male flesh, maybe some leather restraints on those four posters, replace those accidents-waiting-to-happen on the walls will dildo’s, feathers and bottles of lube, the suit of armour in the hallway with a gimp suit.”

They laughed. “Danny, you need to ease up with the fifty shades of grey and get out more ... And what suit of armour in the hallway?”

Danielle stopped walking and looked at her friend in shock. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You didn’t see the massive metal man in the hallway?”

“Err ... no...”

“It’s fucking massive!”

“What, the hallway or the thing I missed?”

“Well, both really. Seriously? You never saw it?”

“I’ll catch it on the way back.”

“I wonder about you sometimes Jules...”

It was relatively easy to spot which bedroom Juliet’s Great Aunt used. There were no dust sheets everywhere. Fairly new three pin power sockets that the Brits used were mounted in obvious positions on the walls at waist height. A cable ran from one double socket into the bedding on the four poster. The other plug in the socket ran to an alarm clock on the side table, and part of the room had been plasterboard partitioned off. Further exploration revealed the partitioned off room to contain a sink, toilet and shower. “I dibs this room!” Danielle said quickly.

“I don’t think so...” They wandered back out and explored the rest of the rooms on the floor and the ones on the floor above.

Danielle nudged a tripped mouse trap with the toe of her shoe, moving the small brown furry body slightly. “You could spend all day here just emptying the mousetraps.” They made their way back down to her Great Aunts room on the second floor.

“Give me a hand with this, will you?” Juliet pulled on the bedding and together they stripped the bed. Clear plastic boxes under the bed revealed some clean bedding. “Can you imagine being a maid back in the day and having to do all the beds?”

“I’d rather not, thanks.”

Arms full of dirty linen, they headed back down to the modern kitchen with its modern utilities. As they navigated the stairs and hallway Danielle nodded her head to the side. “There, see?”

Juliet followed the look and spotted the suit of armour, gauntlets out in front resting upon the pommel of a sword point down on the wooden plinth the armour was stood upon. “Oh yeah! How did I miss that!”

“No idea Miss Magoo...” They loaded the washing machine. Had a hunt around for some washing powder, pods, or whatever it was that the deceased relative had used. With the washing machine filling up, they refilled their coffee mugs and had a more in depth look in the cupboards of the original kitchen. “It’s like a fucking museum.” Danielle opened a cupboard “Look! Even the stuff in the cupboards is ancient!” Danielle reached up to remove a pre-world war one packet of flour. “Oh!” She said in surprise, before bursting into laughter.

“What?” Juliet asked.

Danielle lifted down another packet of foodstuff. “They are all empty! They are just props!” She turned one upside down to read what was on the underside “‘Property of Granada Television studios’. Well, I suppose one must pay the bills somehow. Hey?”

“What?”

“If they film period drama’s here, do you think we could get, like, walk on parts or something...”

“Maybe...”

“That would be fucking awesome.”

“Hmm...” Juliet pulled out a chair at the table and sat down, eyeing the paperwork with distaste.

Not wanting to get roped into something as unpleasant as paperwork, Danielle took her mug and went for a wander. Juliet started to sort the paperwork into piles. Bills to be paid, electric, water and the like, another pile for legal correspondence, another for junk mail. Another for personal correspondence with friends-like who still actually wrote to people with a pen instead of like, just phoning them or sending them an email...

“Jules!”

Juliet let out a quiet sigh “What?” She shouted back.

“We’ve got more stairs!”

“So?”

“These go down!”

Juliet collected her coffee and went looking for Danielle, who was pointing eagerly into a darkened doorway. “Well on you go then.”

“What! Fuck no Jules! It’s your house, you can go first.”

Juliet peered into the darkness. There was something white on the wall. Juliet flicked the switch and the stone stairwell lit up with bright light from regularly spaced LEDs.

“Oh.” Danielle muttered, somewhat crestfallen. “I was expecting it to be, you know, creepier.”

Curious Juliet started descending the worn steps.

“Jules, if there are, like, dungeons and torture racks down there, I’m staying the night at the village...”

Even as Danielle said that, Juliet heard her follow her down the wide stone steps. The steps terminated in a well-lit, multi arched vaulted cellar. Boxes were haphazardly stacked up between the pillars along with the wooden shelves of a considerable wine rack.

Danielle caught sight of the fairly full bottle shelves. “On the other hand...”

Juliet rummaged through some of the boxes. Old bank statements, VAT receipts, old and not so old brochures for the cottages and the castle itself, proclaiming its use as a venue for weddings, parties and indeed film and television shoots over the years. No sign of prison cells or torture equipment. Though there was plenty of room for both to be added if one so desired.

“You could set up a massage parlour down here Jules, a nail salon, a hairdresser. A shoe rack. Oh! The amount of shoes you could store here!”

“What, like wine on one side, shoes on the other, hats at the end?”

“Ugh, to die for...”

“I think there is more space down here than even you could fill up with clothes to wear Danny.”

“No such scenario exists. Ever. Anywhere.”

It was substantially cooler down here than it was on the ground floor and Juliet was keen to get back up to the warmth. “If I had known about this, I wouldn’t have bothered buying the wine.”

Danielle moved back over to the wine and ran a finger along one of the bottles. The layer of dust was very thick. “I don’t think I could drink one of these Jules.”