"So, can we have the Wifi code?" Stella asks again.
"No," Nell says. "You young people spend too much time online. You have work to do."
I could see by the bristle in Stella’s shoulders that she’s working up to an argument.
I could see by the bristle in Stella’s shoulders that she’s working up to an argument.
"What’s the tune, Rory?" I ask. We could sort out the Wifi later.
"Rory MacLeod."
"Of course."
"Why do you say of course, Rose," Nell swipes her tablet again and the printer spews out another sheet.
I sit back, as I feel my face pink.
"I don’t know, just the Barren Rocks thing. This place named after a tune. Rory MacLeod is such an obvious choice for Rory."
"I don’t know, just the Barren Rocks thing. This place named after a tune. Rory MacLeod is such an obvious choice for Rory."
Je m'assois à nouveau et sens mon visage rosir.
"Je ne sais pas, juste le truc Barren Rocks. Cet endroit porte le nom du morceau. Rory MacLeod est un choix si évident pour Rory."
"Je ne sais pas, juste le truc Barren Rocks. Cet endroit porte le nom du morceau. Rory MacLeod est un choix si évident pour Rory."
"Well go and see what you have then," she says.
As I rise to walk to the printer the boy with the cheery grin says. "I thought you said no sheet music, Nell?"
"I’m sure you already know your own tunes, but we don’t have time to teach the others by ear. "
She swipes again. I pick up my tune. Rose of Avonmore and the one that prints next is The Banks of Allan.
She swipes again. I pick up my tune. Rose of Avonmore and the one that prints next is The Banks of Allan.
"Is your name Allan then?" I ask the cheery boy. He takes the sheet.
"Yes, and this is getting seriously weir" .He holds up the paper. "Banks of Allan, how original."
Fiona waves, "Hi Allan. My surname is Campbell, there are hundreds of tunes about Fiona and thousands about Campbell."
Fiona sounds as if she thinks this is all perfectly normal.
Fiona sounds as if she thinks this is all perfectly normal.
"Campbell’s Farewell to Redcastle."
Nell says, looking pleased with herself. The printer spews out a page.
Nell says, looking pleased with herself. The printer spews out a page.
"And for you Miss Stella Lyall."
Stella flounces out of her seat and drags her feet to the printer. She looks at the sheet. "Miss Lyall’s Strathspey6. Wrong spelling of Lyle," she says.
"Google it with your precious Wifi if you don’t believe me."
"Google it with your precious Wifi if you don’t believe me."
Nell blinks a couple of times, she obviously hadn’t spotted this mistake, but her smile soon returns. "Well maybe you can just go to the East wing."
"No, it’s OK. I can handle the mistake if you can."
"Very well. Now, you five are the most gifted of this group. Below Aden House sits the Golden Cave."
I hear Fiona gasp, but no one seems to notice. "The Golden Cave has superb acoustics," Nell continues. "By the end of your time here you will perform your personalised set. It will be the most astounding concert ever performed and the most important project you will accomplish in your musical journey."
I hear Fiona gasp, but no one seems to notice. "The Golden Cave has superb acoustics," Nell continues. "By the end of your time here you will perform your personalised set. It will be the most astounding concert ever performed and the most important project you will accomplish in your musical journey."
Allan holds his hand up but Nell flaps, signalling him to lower it. "No one has created this type of performance before. You must work hard and that work begins tomorrow."
She then points to Allan. "You have a question?"
She then points to Allan. "You have a question?"
"Who is the audience?"
"We shall have to wait and see. Now gather up your belongings and follow me."
"Nous devrons attendre et voir. Maintenant, rassemblez vos affaires et suivez-moi."
I look at the sheet music again. What is this all about? Why give us tunes specific to our names? She calls it a personalised set. Maybe it is some new teaching technique but I have to agree with Allan, it is all seriously weird. As I follow the others I look towards the window. It is dark outside and all I can see is a room full of empty chairs reflected in the glass. The coach has returned to Inverness. The other students are somewhere called the East wing. There is no phone signal and Nell is refusing to give us a Wifi code. Suddenly, despite the others ahead of me I feel very alone.
Je regarde à nouveau la partition. Qu'est-ce que tout cela? Pourquoi nous donner des mélodies spécifiques à nos noms? Elle appelle ça un ensemble personnalisé. C'est peut-être une nouvelle technique d'enseignement, mais je suis d'accord avec Allan, tout cela est vraiment bizarre. En suivant les autres, je regarde vers la fenêtre. Il fait sombre dehors et tout ce que je vois, c'est une pièce pleine de chaises vides reflétées dans le verre. Le bus est retourné à Inverness. Les autres étudiants sont dans un endroit appelé l'aile Est. Il n'y a pas de signal téléphonique et Nell refuse de nous donner un code Wifi. Soudain, malgré les autres devant moi, je me sens très seule.
The way to the West wing is along a dark corridor hanging with dusty tapestries depicting a battle field where a kilted piper leads an army into battle. Further along a massive stag’s head with vicious looking antlers looks down at us, its glazed eyes seem to follow us as we pass.
Le chemin vers l'aile Ouest longe un couloir sombre où sont suspendues des tapisseries poussiéreuses représentant un champ de bataille où l'on voit un joueur de cornemuse en kilt qui mène une armée au combat. Plus loin, une énorme tête de cerf aux bois vicieux nous regarde, ses yeux vitreux semblent nous suivre.
Nell takes a key from her pocket, opens a carved wooden door and ushers us into a brighter, more modern corridor. She shows us two dormitories side by side.
"Boys here, and girls there," she says. There is plenty of space, each room has six beds and I can’t help wondering why Nell hasn’t chosen more musicians for her performance.
"Dump your stuff and follow me."
"Laissez vos affaires et suivez-moi."
We enter a wee cosy kitchen. A table is laid with five place settings, a pot of something bubbles on the stove. It smells like Scotch broth, yum. Nell rings a little bell that hangs by the door.
Nous entrons dans une petite cuisine confortable. Une table est dressée avec cinq couverts, une marmite de quelque chose bouillonne sur le poêle. Ça sent le bouillon écossais, miam. Nell fait sonner une petite cloche qui pend à la porte.
"Sit", she says. "You must be hungry."
Through the door walks a girl a couple of years older than us, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Her hair is dyed bright green, a colour I had begged Mum to let me try but of course she refused. The girl wears a green dress of flowing material, the type most girls would wear to a family wedding but not for every day.
"This is Cat, your house helper. She will make your meals."
On cue Cat moves to the stove and begins ladling out bowls of soup which she brings to the table. As she lays mine down I say "Thank you," but she remains silent. She smells of flowers and I notice her eyes are even greener than Rory and mine.
On cue Cat moves to the stove and begins ladling out bowls of soup which she brings to the table. As she lays mine down I say "Thank you," but she remains silent. She smells of flowers and I notice her eyes are even greener than Rory and mine.
"So I will leave you now and I’ll see you at eight tomorrow morning."
"Eight?" Stella says.
"Yes eight Miss Lyall," Nell says stressing the A in Lyall. "Cat, doesn’t like to say much so don’t badger her," are her parting words.
When Nell leaves I let out a massive breath. "Well…" I start but Fiona put her hand on mine and nods towards Cat and I realise that we’ll need to hold our chat until Cat’s left us.
The soup is good but nothing special, like Mum’s soup but saltier and when the chunky bread in the middle of the table disappears before I have a chance to grab a second slice, I realise how hungry I am. Cat lays another slice beside me as if reading my mind.
Cat clears the soup plates and serves us with mince and tatties1, again, just like Mum’s.
I notice Rory staring at Cat.
"Why are you all in green?" he asks. Cat smiles but stays silent. When she moves to the end of the kitchen to stack the dishwasher I turn to Fiona and say.
"Why did you gasp when Nell mentioned The Golden Cave?"
"You’re a piper, have you never heard of it?."
Cat clatters a pot onto the floor and we jump.
"The actual cave is on the Isle of Skye2," Fiona continues. "And there is a legend that one of the famous Mac Crimmon pipers entered the cave to play but never returned."
Cat clatters a pot onto the floor and we jump.
"The actual cave is on the Isle of Skye2," Fiona continues. "And there is a legend that one of the famous Mac Crimmon pipers entered the cave to play but never returned."
"But this isn’t Skye is it?"
"No it’s not, I guess I’m just a bit spooked," Fiona says with a sigh.
"But there is another story about a piper and a Banshee3 or maybe it was a Glaistig4, whatever, one of those mystical women. A Banshee is a bad one so it must have been the Glaistig, coz they are nice."
"But there is another story about a piper and a Banshee3 or maybe it was a Glaistig4, whatever, one of those mystical women. A Banshee is a bad one so it must have been the Glaistig, coz they are nice."
"Get on with it Fiona," I say, the clattering and banging coming from Cat is giving me a headache.
"OK" Fiona takes a deep breath. "This piper boy was not very good. He steals his father’s bagpipes and tries to play. The Glaistig came to him and asked him what he would prefer, success without skill or skill without success. He chose skill without success, so she pulled a hair from her head."
"A green hair," Rory says.
"What" Fiona says.
"Nothing, later."
"She pulls a hair and ties it round his chanter5, then she guides his fingers as she plays on her own chanter and tells him he is the King of Pipers."
"So what happened to him?" I ask.
Fiona shrugs. "Who knows? Presumably because he wasn’t successful nobody would have heard of him."
Rory snorts. "Just like you Rose."
"How do you know all this?" I ask ignoring Rory’s bad joke.
"I don’t sleep, remember. I read a lot. Anyway, what are you on about with the green hair Rory?"
"Can we go Cat?" Allan interrupts. Rory is still staring at Cat as if she is a ghost or something.
Cat turns and smiles at us and with the palms of her hands facing us shoos us out the door.
We congregate in the boys’ room because there is more space there. Rory closes the door.
"Sorry guys but this is beyond weird."
"Which bit?" says Stella who is examining every notice on the walls and door trying to find Wifi clues.
"Which bit?" says Stella who is examining every notice on the walls and door trying to find Wifi clues.
"All of it," Rory says. "Nell gives me the creeps and what about that Cat? Don’t you think Cat reminds you of one of the Glaistigs Fiona just told us about?"
Fiona laughs. "She does a bit. They are called the Green Maidens after all."
"What are we going to do?" I ask.
"What can we do?" Allan lifts a penny whistle from his guitar case and begins to play the opening bars of The Banshee reel. A fast tune that is sure to get your feet tapping.
"We’re only here for four days," Rory says. "So we learn the music and do the stupid performance and then we are out of here. And I for one am giving this place a one star review."
"I have never felt so isolated in my life", Stella says. "I need to get online."
