Chapter 2
The day was ruined!
Jane stared at the splitting flashes of lightning, cursing at her luck. Can something please tell her why there was such a heavy downpour in the heart of summer? The weather forecast predicted the day to be sunny and boiling... Was this what these Scottish people called boiling? The only thing hot here was her temper.
Winning a free ticket to his exclusive museum, was considered lucky. But what are the odds that on the day of the tour, it rains in the heart of summer? It seems that every time a good thing happens, her bad luck is always there to ruin the day.
'Am I cursed?'
Jane looked to the heavens and sighed at her fate.
The rains swiftly stormed in the East, sweeping uncountable swelling clouds across the lands. The lightning split the gloomy horizons, causing the air to tremble in anticipation of another wave of heavy rain.
BANG!
The raging thunder echoed loudly, and the winds aggressively caressed Jane's cheeks, leaving them flushed. However, Jane's anger was quickly replaced with determination.
'Since I'm already here, nothing can ruin this day for me. So do your worst!' Jane gave the middle finger to the sky after jogging from her cab to the Museum's main entrance, up the outdoor stony stairways. She met with the tour guide, a burly man with a long ginger beard.
Waw!
Jane's mouth hung open in the form of an 'O' as she came face to face with history. And something deep within her soul trembled softly. Jane took in deep breaths, sweeping her eyes across the enormous hall.
Breathtaking. That was how she could best describe what her eyes were speechless about.
The floors weren't made of gold, nor were the ceilings made of fine jade. Yet, it could leave one gasping at its brilliance. Walking in, she felt she had ventured into a true ancient manor.
With no time to waste, the tour began. It was only now that she realized that the entire museum was a manor used by the former lords back in the Middle Ages. The manor was exquisite and vast. She visited the kitchen, as well as the Scullery.
The scullery was a smaller kitchen adjacent to the main kitchen. It was also closest to the wells and water supplies since its primary purpose was mostly for washing dishes and cleaning up utensils. But many a time, it was used for washing clothes, steaming off wrinkles (ironing) from the lord's clothes, booking water for good or bathing, and of course, soaking hard-to-clean items.
Jane was amazed by how massive the seemingly 'small' kitchen was.
In houses built before indoor plumbing, these sculleries contained hot and cold sinks built against an outside wall. On the other side, a wooden or stone outdoor trench would lead the drained-out water via gravity, down and away.
The scullery had over eleven large stone slabs for laundry washing and dish cleaning.
People would slap and smash clothes on the slabs. There were five sets of storage shelves in one corner, plate racks in another, eight work tables, various big metal pots called Coppers for boiling water, thick wooden tubs for soaking clothes, and buckets.
Jane appreciated the ingenuity of medieval people. Without electricity and other modern amenities, they found ways to survive with the bare minimum.
As for the main kitchen, it only had work tables and numerous fireplaces. Of course, half of the kitchen was dedicated to Storage. Thus, there was a pantry door on the kitchen's left-hand side.
Jane ran her fingers on the table, feeling her heartbeat beating wildly. It was so loud that she felt it could wake up a city.
"Miss... Is everything alright?" The tour guide asked.
"Yes, yes. It's fine. Just feel like I've been here before."
"Oh?" The corners of the tour guide's lips raised thoughtfully. "Who knows, Miss. Perhaps ye have."
"Hah." Jane laughed lightly. This tour guide had jokes.
"Come now, Miss Taylor. Our tour has just begun."
"Hmmm." Jane pressed her lips, making them all but disappear. Following the guide, she ventured through another large hallway that led up to the second floor. This was the path most workers back in the day would use when carrying buckets of water up and down the main building.
Though she was headed for the second floor, the height alone was akin to the third floor or fourth instead. The ground floor was built with towering high-rise ceilings as though one were entering a cathedral. Thus, along the worker-stairway leading up were several windows strategically placed, allowing light to illuminate the long winding path. On rainy days such as this, torches would be lit after the wooden windows were closed off. Of course, the windows here were no longer made of wood but modern glass. So she could still see the gas manor below.
There were open courtyards for training and ancient outdoor verandas connecting several buildings. Other individual structures, like a kirk/church and several small huts, firmly sat on the many hills spread out.
On the second floor, Jane followed the guide to the room at the far end. At first, she thought the room was a small meeting hall/office. But on closer inspection, she found countless words with similar meanings engraved on many scattered artifacts.
[A dedication to my most loved wife, my Lady Mackay. You’re my light, my life and my will. No matter how hard death separates us, I will always find ye, whether in this life or the next. Wait for me, my Lady.]
Jane's lips quivered as a single tear fell down her cheek.
"Miss Taylor, are you alright?"
"Ah-" Jane quickly wiped her teary eyes, not knowing what was wrong with her. "I'm fine... I'm fine."
She wasn't the crying type, but she couldn't help herself from crying when she saw the many messages scattered around the room. The entire room was only focused on the mysterious Lady Mackay. There was no portrait or anything to show what she looked like. Yet, Jane had imagined a well-taken care of a woman who was held like a baby by her beloved husband. The woman's wedding clothes and jewelry were the only things kept on display.
Jane's hands trembled while touching the ancient table that stood testament to the many hidden stories surrounding the space. Her breathing grew heavy as she choked on her tears from burdening distress.
Why did it all feel so familiar?