Blue Moonstone

By Dandy Taylor

Danni’s teenage life pretty much sucks. Panic attacks and phobias are a battle, but she knows there is a very good reason she’s afraid. If only she could remember what it is? Danni grew up on Harry Potter and Twilight, avidly reads fantasy novels, and feasts on Netflix. These are the best things in her life, everything else is a work in progress like controlling her anxiety. She doesn't fit in anywhere and suspects she might be adopted. Does everything have to be so hard? Adding to the frightmare, Danni moves to the city of Edinburgh in Scotland where the grey weather suits her grim mood.
She's so not impressed with her excusive new school even though it's housed in a castle. James MacAbre confuses Danni by insisting on following her around. He loves Shakespeare, and all things military, and his speech is strange too. He persists in giving Danni weird salutes and vowing to protect her ‘til death, forever. Danni begins to suspect that James is not from this time. Although he has firmly friend zoned her, James still struggles with jealousy when Danni makes friends with Stewie. Stewie has his own secrets, but Danni is too completely swept up and fascinated by the drama surrounding James to pay attention. Danni is sure James must be more than human. When Danni searches for answers, James pushes back hard and warns she is endangering them both. But she is still determined to discover his secrets. James promises Danni he is not a vampire: nor a time traveller, nor anything she has ever heard of, but he's not a normal mortal so what is he?
Whatever else he is, Danni suspects James is a military hero. He sees his job as to protect Danni, and to fight for anyone who needs it. She is a pacifist who argues no civilised society should ever resort to war. His enemies are close? But that doesn’t mean they can’t be friends. Or does it? Why does everyone keep calling Danni ‘Rose’ and why does Rose MacAbre look like Danni? James won’t even kiss Danni, it's against his killjoy knights' code, is it because they are related? Faced with mortal danger Danni hides under the bed and has no plans to come out anytime soon. James needs Danni’s help more than she ever imagined in her worst frightmare, but things lurch from bad to worse. Danni hopes Stewie will be clever enough help her to solve a centuries old mystery, but the odds are not good.
Young Adult, Fantasy, Paranormal, Fiction, Romance, Edinburgh City, Scotland, Present day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dandy Taylor
• Release date: Jan 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9780957266636

Dandy Taylor

About the AuthorDandy has an English Literature Degree and is a volunteer counsellor for a young persons’ charity. We all feel like Danni Evans some days. There are links with help and advice about anxiety in the glossary. Hearing about the challenges and issues Young Adults face every day inspired Dandy to write a story where readers can escape into a different world.She would love to hear from you - mailto:[e-mail]

Book preview

Blue Moonstone

He’s not a Vampire, nor a Mortal. What is he?

Copyright 2021 Dandy Taylor

All rights reserved.

Any references to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously.

Cover Image: Martin Kelly, Peter Terry

Front cover Design: Dandy Taylor

Debbie Hope Publishing

Manchester

England

Table of Contents

Chapter One Frog in a Blender

Chapter Two It’s all Hideous

Chapter Three Velociraptor

Chapter Four Puke Girl

Chapter Five School Dragon

Chapter Six Eureka 1944

Chapter Seven Vera Lynn to Taylor Swift

Chapter Eight Blonde Mouse

Chapter Nine Walking Dead

Chapter Ten Fight

Chapter Eleven Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twelve Witch

Chapter Thirteen Ghost

Chapter Fourteen Ghosted

Chapter Fifteen Darth Vader

Chapter Sixteen Back to Black

Chapter Seventeen Dragons’ Eggs

Chapter Eighteen Secret Squirrel

Chapter Nineteen Battle Time

Chapter Twenty Frog in a Desert

Chapter Twenty-One Crazy Frog

Chapter Twenty-Two Box of Frogs

Chapter Twenty-Three Pearly Skeletons

Chapter Twenty-Four Zero Ooze

Chapter Twenty-Five Blue Moonstone

Chapter Twenty-Six Lunar Magic

Chapter Twenty-Seven Men in Black

What Did You think of Blue Moonstone?

About the Author

Glossary

Chapter One

Frog in a Blender

OMG! Frightmare! I screech. A shiver trickles down my spine like a creepy premonition. Listening to my family’s yawntastic and dull. Mostly I don’t bother, but now my whole world’s crashing. (Ref_1)

Seriously? I yell. I’m trying to sound fierce but my voice breaks, You’ll k-kill me this time. I scan our floral hot-pink lounge searching for reassurance. My eyes fix on Julie: AKA, my mum - she thinks Julie has a younger vibe. I plead, Tell me it’s not true, Julie?

Julie avoids my gaze and pats her pink hair, Change can be good. Do you think luscious lilac would suit me?

Stratospheric stress. Can’t change schools again, I can’t! My breath starts to sob, I pull at my collar struggling to breathe, #Panic attack. (Ref_2)

Julie rushes over and tries to calm me down. Don’t worry, Danni, we’ll get you another psychologist for the school phobia thing. And the dark phobia. (Ref_n3) You woke us up screaming again last night, but I promise we hadn’t switched your nightlight off. No one would do that; we know how petrified of the dark you are.

I bury my face in my hands. Sorry, I’m sure there’s a good reason for my frightmares. Only I’ve forgotten? Something evil wants to get me. I can’t remember exactly what, but I know it’s there, so I’m double terrified. But right now, being frightened of the dark’s the least of my problems.

We wanted to tell you together. We know moving schools….

No! I interrupt, you can’t do this to me. I’m not changing schools again! Hot tears prickle, fifteen’s way too old to cry. Need the tears to go away and this day to go away. I beg, No way, tell me this frightmare isn’t real?

My older sister, Daisy, sometimes my best friend, often my nemesis, has a look in her sapphire blue eyes that might be sympathy? Daisy’s voice is quiet as she confirms, Yes way, all the way, Danni, we’re definitely moving. Chill, it’s totes obvious you’re about to cry?

I’m not, blubbering’s for babies! I shout, shaking my head so that my long dark hair straggles everywhere. I try and force the stupid stuff back into my bobble muttering, Wish I’d your hair Daisy. You’re two years older than me and a trillion times tidier.

Daisy fluffs her own perfect golden-blonde curls. But you’ve lovely hair, Danni. It’s dark chocolate brown like your eyes.

HFAC! Holy Flipping Animal Crackers, Daisy’s being nice to me. Doesn’t make me feel any better because clearly that means the world is about to end.

Honestly, your hair is nice, really straight and shiny, and so long you can sit on it.

Thanks, Daisy but we both know it’s only so long because I’m terrified of hairdressers. Straight and exciting as local Radio Station News, that’s my hair. Anyway, I’ll be pulling it all out by the roots if they make me change schools again.

Pulling out her make-up bag Daisy lectures, Try and think of a new school as an amazeballs adventure, like me and Asher do, we love moving schools.

Yeah, right, that’d work for me, of course it would.

Chillax, you’ll be OK this time, Danni.

I snarl back at her, How’d you know, what would you know about real life up there on Planet Perf?

Daisy looks up from glossing her lips and gives me a blank stare, Planet Perf?

I growl, Planet Perfect - only for the athletic and Barbie doll cute!

Losing patience Daisy snaps, Come on, Danni, a new school’s not so bad. It’s not like you’ve anything emosh to deal with!

I must have imagined that sympathy. Empathy from Daisy, as if. And I’ve no idea what she’s on about. It’s my turn to look blank, What?

Daisy huffs a resigned sigh. Emosh: emotional, saddening, heartfelt. Like a boyfriend, a best friend, or even any close friends to tear yourself away from.

Sucker punch me in the guts, why don’t you? That’s only true because I’m always moving HFAC schools.

My younger brother Asher, ten years of trouble, pulls one giant headphone away from his ear and decides to join in. Of course, he does. He chimes in with a rap and sound effects. Danni’s a girl with no mates. Got no friends inside them school gates.

Quit it with the annoying beatbox noises. I glare at my little brother helplessly, looking for a flaw I can use to dig back at him. It’s no use, You’re too cute your own good, Asher, as blonde, blue-eyed, and perfect as Daisy. Why am I the only brown-eyed, awkward one?

Julie makes a half-hearted attempt to scold him for his cheek. Asher, you’re not being very nice.

I scowl as ferociously as I can. Not very nice? My brother’s the devil’s spawn.

Julie looks back at me, her blue eyes doubtful. An older duplicate version of Daisy. Julie insists she’s even the same dress size, but Asher wickedly says Julie cuts the size labels out of her clothes for a reason.

Julie begins, Asher perhaps…?

Asher changes the subject smoothly asking with fake casualness, Isn’t Danni’s sports day coming up soon? He smiles and looks deceptively innocent.

Sports day? Julie asks, surprise making her eyebrows shoot up in her pink hair.

I launch into protest. Hell Day. It should be banned as torture. I always drop everything and come lumbering in last.

Asher’s grin widens. Will it help if we all come along and cheer you on?

I snap, Julie hasn’t been to a sports day since I was six, and she spent the entire day pretending I wasn’t her child. That was when I first noticed what a misfit I am. An uncoordinated goblin changeling in my blonde athletic family. Not bothered, obviously.

Julie flinches, I hadn’t realised you’d overheard! She looks upset, I was…, It was…, A joke.

Huffing a resigned sigh. I add, Don’t worry about it. The rest of you are all blonde, sporty and glamorous. I’m a clumsy spaghetti-limbed goofball, I’d disown me if I could.

Oh but, Danni…, Julie begins.

Forget it, sports day was last week. You missed it, I say. Guilty heat rushes to my cheeks and I confess. I threw away the letter, hid, and skipped the races. Kill me if you like. If you’re going to make me move again, I’m going to die anyway. Again, a warning shiver creeps down my spine. I shake it off but it’s too late. I’m going to toss my cookies any moment #Panic attack.

Asher sticks out his tongue and stretches his ear lobes into a hideous face. I hiss, S-seriously, are you ten years or ten months old? I can’t share the same genes as you.

I turn to Julie, For the trillionth time in my life, am I adopted? You may as well stop denying it. This time I add something new, You all have blue eyes but mine are brown so we can’t be biologically related? Is that guilt I see in Julie’s eyes? I press for the truth, Julie?

Danni…. A beat.

I hold my breath, Yes?

Julie looks up. Here’s David! she cries with undisguised relief, as my distinguished looking Dad walks into the room.

He kisses Julie and Daisy; and ruffles Asher’s and my hair, Hello, Pumpkin.

Shaking my head, I protest half-heartedly, Cut it out, I’m way too old for that Pumpkin and the hair stuff. Dad laughs and exchanges identical million-dollar smiles with Asher.

I groan, Why didn’t I get the golden grin? I’m the only one who didn’t inherit a single good thing from our parents’ supersonic genes?

Julie smiles up at my dad. David, you do get better looking every day. You’re handsome enough to play yourself in a medical soap opera. Actors would kill for your twinkling blue eyes.

Dad cringes, I’m getting a bit long in the tooth for all that.

Julie shakes her head. Nonsense, you look even more dashing with that sprinkle of silver in your hair.

Daisy adds proudly, Daddy is good-looking enough to be an actor but he’s even better than that. He’s a specialist medical consultant. Do you remember what he specialises in, Danni? She’s asking me fake-sweetly like I’m six, but she knows I won’t be able to reel off the answer.

I groan, Dad’s field is blood disorders or something equally yuck. I’m not good at blood.

Daisy pretends to huff a sigh. "He’s a haematologist. (Ref_n4) The only time Daddy tried to explain about his work. You got all hot and silly and fainted. Daisy squeals, I nearly forgot, Daddy, another new job! Have you been headhunted again?"

Dad produces a leaflet. Four matching blonde heads pour over the brochure. Dad’s smile widens with enthusiasm, They’re really excited about the ground-breaking research I’m doing. It’s a fantastic state-of-the-art hospital in Edinburgh.

Need to keep quiet here and not spoil Dad’s moment. I will myself to keep quiet. No such luck. My misery bursts out of me like seeds from a split tomato. (Ref_n5) I hear my voice protest, But Scotland that’s another country!

Dad gives me a rueful smile, Oh, Pumpkin ….

I correct him with sullen ill grace, I’m too big to be called Pumpkin!

Asher flashes a wicked grin. Yeah, you certainly are big. Big and round, your butt drags on the ground!

I snap at my brother, Get a new joke book, we all know I’m too skinny!

It’s alternative humour, Asher argues.

You’d impress me if you could actually spell ‘alternative’, bro. I angle my head to pointedly ignore Asher, concentrating on Dad instead. I moan, But why do we have to go?

Dad looks worried as he says, I know how hard it’ll be for you, Danni. But they’re allocating me a very generous research grant. And I’ll be helping some extremely ill patients.

Did you just play the sick children card, Dad? of course, you did. I wrestle with my inner demons and manage to force a total lie, I’m fine with Scotland, night, and I start trailing dismally up the stairs.

I pause as I overhear Julie trying to sound positive about me. Maybe Danni’ll fit in and make some friends at this new school?

Asher snorts, Dandelion doesn’t fit in anywhere.

I feel heat rushing into my cheeks, know I shouldn’t, but I carry on eavesdropping anyway. #Spoiler alert: I’m not perfect. Daisy adds, You two gave her the daft name. It’s your responsibility.

Julie protests, I wanted Rose – not Dandelion Rose!

Dad huffs a guilty sigh. "For the billionth time. Keith Richards from the Rolling Stones, one of the greatest rock bands on the planet, called his daughter Dandelion. (Ref_6) And it goes so well with Daisy?"

No voices speak up and agree with him. No one ever gets why he wanted to call me Dandelion, least of all me. Unnoticed, I trudge up the rest of the stairs and slam into my bedroom.

With more force than necessary I jam a fat book between the window and the casement. It’s so the window can never slam shut on me, I worry about air circulation, it’s another of my phobia things. Something stirs below my window. Movement in the shadows and a noise almost like ragged breathing? Sounds like Darth Vader (Ref_n7) He could be outside my window. Weird! What is that? I hold my breath straining my ears.

I call out, Who’s there? Silence. Maybe it’s an animal?

Shrugging, I climb into bed and lie tangling and untangling the sheets. My mind whirrs miserably like a frog in a blender. Another new school, I can’t do it. (Ref_8) I’m too old to cry, it’s totes pathetic, but fat tears roll down my face.

Think positive I lecture myself. I might not have to start at the new school. OMG! Might get hit by a bus instead, if I’m lucky? I content myself imagining all the fatal accidents that could befall me, so I won’t have to start my hideous new life in Scotland.

Chapter Two

It’s all Hideous

The city of Edinburgh’s (Ref_n9) beautiful even in the torrential rain but I refused to be charmed. I’ve sat wreathed in silent misery the entire journey.

Dad announces in a bright voice, Here we are kids, 111 Montagu Square, our new home!

I shrug, Whatever. The car swishes through a leafy green square slowing down in front of tall grey-stone buildings, gathered together like elegant Georgian courtiers #Posh.

Dad pulls up immediately behind a large removal van in a familiar livery, Hoorah!

I groan, Did you just cheer, seriously? This is it, my new life’s here, I have to face it somehow. The rain suddenly stops. Moisture drips off the trees and atmospheric mist swirls around the grey houses. Gloom settles on my chest like a heavy weight. I badly want to cry. If I wasn’t too old, I’d be blubbering right now.

Dad smiles his megawatt smile looking as excited as a kid with a new toy. Should be just about ready; Julie’s been staying in a hotel here getting things straight for us. Cue squeals of delight from Asher and Daisy. Sulkily I allow myself a quick glance. Look, Dad says, the houses are four-stories tall, basements, and attics, and everything.

Asher pulls off his headphones. I peek at his screen, You’re on my profile again, does Julie know you’re watching that?

Asher puts his finger to his lips. He leans forward to Dad and Daisy and punches the air in triumph, We’re here! He yells. Massive houses, they’ve got to be forty feet tall. Which one’s ours? Burying my nose in my book I refuse to look even remotely interested.

Daisy peers in concern, But that window, Daddy! Is it derelict?

Dad laughs, All the windows are as tall as you, Daisy, so there’ll be plenty of light. Many grand houses of this period had odd windows filled in to avoid a window tax (Ref_n10)... he pauses looking at Daisy, sorry, poppet, am I being dull?

Eww! history, I have a life, Daisy scowls prettily. She does everything prettily. Dad laughs ruffling Daisy’s curls. Daisy giggles.

I scowl, I’m too old for hair ruffling so Daisy has to be way too old. She’s seventeen, practically a geriatric.

Asher pokes me in the arm. He challenges, Race you to the best bedroom, Danni!

I throw him a nasty look. As if, I’m gonna bother. It’s not like I’ve beaten you in a race since you were a toddler. You’re part stupid racing snake.

Yeah and you’re part rhino.

Did you just call me fat? I snap falling neatly into Asher’s trap.

He puts his head one side and announces, ’Course not, but I need a tent for Scout Camp so can I borrow your knickers?

I wave my arms in the air in a helpless gesture, too miserable even to fight. Big really? get yourself a new joke book and grow-up!

Asher gives up trying to provoke me and prods Daisy, Shotgun, biggest room’s mine!

Car doors bang. Asher shoots into the tall grey house, closely followed by a shrieking Daisy and my excited Dad. I shrink into the back seat. The car grows chilly. Cold seeps into my bones. Today even my precious Harry Potter (Ref_n11) book can’t console me, I’ve read the same paragraph three times, nothing’s penetrating my thick skull, no escape there. Snarling I give up and cast the book aside. It’s too cold to concentrate. Reaching forward into the front I manage to turn the ignition key. Heat and a snatch of some obscure rock tune blasts into the car. Vaguely recognise the European group but I don’t do metal-gothic rock. I change the radio station. It clicks back to the same tune.

Seriously, OMG! I repeat the performance, same result, "Who’s messing with our Spotify account?"

Something about the haunting lyrics of Until Eternity (Ref_n12) matches my grim mood? The singer screams on about loving someone in her previous life reminding them she’ll love them in their next life too. Reincarnation? Really? Don’t believe in that rubbish, want this off, but the song’s stuck on auto loop.

I groan aloud, "Asher get off our Spotify, you’re so not funny." I give up fiddling with the buttons and glare moodily up at the house. A shadow moves in one of the high attic windows. Can’t make out what the shadow is, and I don’t care.

A sudden shaft of sunlight stabs through the misty clouds fastening on the attic window. In a weird magnifying effect, light settles on the fair hair and chiseled face of a boy. For some reason although he’s high up I can see his face perfectly clearly. You’d describe his sculpted features as awesome if you’re the soppy type like my sister. But I’m not that wet. This boy’s way too good-looking, bound to be mega arrogant. How could you not be full of yourself looking like that?

His angelic bone structure should belong to a movie star or a male model. Not a guy from a moving crew, which he must be as he’s mooching around in our attic? Although he looks a bit young, around my age, must be a weekend job? Eww! I feel my cheeks heat as I notice he’s not even wearing a shirt. Physically perfect too. Daisy would be super impressed, but I look away from the rippling muscles, and defined six-pack, embarrassed to be a Peeping Tom.

Suddenly there’s a loud tap on the car window. Eek! I squeak idiotically and cringe nervously, of course I do, I’m permanently anti-cool.

My Dad’s face peers in at me and reaches for the car keys. Danni, come see the new house? Dad catches a bar of the music, Didn’t know you liked Blackbriar, Pumpkin? would you like me to buy you the CD?

Nobody buys CD’s anymore.

My Dad turns his best ‘putting his patient at ease’ smile on me. I groan, I know what you’re doing but I’m still finding myself smiling back and falling in line, I’m no more immune than your besotted patients. Before I know it, I’m meekly following him out of the car. I glance up at the attic window. The sun has slipped behind the clouds again and the window’s black and blank.

I mutter, I see Julie’s got the removal guys busy. My face dour as we skirt around two more men struggling with our ridiculously over-large television screen.

Yes, the TV’s last of it. My shirts are already hanging in my wardrobe without so much as a crease!

I groan, Stunning! I can’t resist being snide, what’s next for Julie, world peace?

Dad sticks up for Julie. Julie’s worked very hard. She’s brilliant at organising a move.

I object, Pleeze! the removal guys do it all for her, I bet she’s got that firm saved in her favourites. If they did a loyalty card, we’d be on a free holiday by now.

Dad huffs a frustrated sigh, Danni, give Julie some credit?

I heave, an even bigger sigh, She’s had enough HFAC practice.

Come on, Danni?

My steps falter and I freeze, A sense of déjà-vu (Ref_13) just hit me like a black wall.

Danni?

Bitterness spills out, I’ve moved more times than I can count. It’s always horrible. I can’t do this. An agoraphobic need to be in the safety of the car races through me. I whisper, I’m going back!

Dad either doesn’t hear or pretends not to hear. He links my arm in his and sweeps me along to the house with him. Without letting go of me he opens a tall, wooden front door. It’s unremarkable except for its height and a huge metal knocker.

I complain, Creepy door thingy. Is that a pewter skull and crossbones, why would you even do that?

Exciting isn’t it, maybe they liked pirates?

Dad! I’m not ten like Asher.

I think it’s wonderfully artistic. That’s a full moon, and look at those two rings, Dad points at the base of the design.

I scowl, What about them?

Dad continues, ignoring my sulky expression, One is silver with a tiny chip of a blue moonstone (Ref_14) and that signet ring is actual gold leaf with a miniature black cat’s-eye diamond. (Ref_15) It’s antique, I’m amazed it hasn’t been stolen.

A clue, it’s butt ugly, nobody wanted it.

Dad’s still smiling, You don’t see craftsmanship like that anymore.

Because tacky door bling is out of style.

Point taken, I’ll quit trying to sell you on the artistic virtues of the door knocker. We can’t change it. It’s very old and this is a listed building. He half-drags me into the hall. Wait ‘till you see the wood paneling in the study. You’re gonna love this place! he enthuses.

You think I’ll love wood paneling? I bite back a groan, Honestly? I shudder as the front door bangs shut behind us trapping me in the bowels of this hideous new life.

Dad pleads, Give it a chance, Danni, for me?

I mumble, Yeah, whatever. But it’s Dad asking. So, I paste a fake-interested expression on my face and trail desolately after him. The familiar sharp smells of fresh paint and new carpet tickle my nose. I sneeze and moan, Stinks of paint.

Dad smile’s full of pride. It’s been Julie’d alright. What a whirlwind. How does she do it?

Awesome, I grumble. I look at the floor, aware of the sarcasm in my voice but unable to hide it, Julie for prime minister? I look up again, Dad’s disappeared, I call, Where are you?

Dad answers, In here.

Obediently I peer in the family TV room. Beige with wine highlights, not too bad, I say, something’s missing?

Dad agrees, Yes, the TV’s still outside. I’d meant Julie’s signature lurid floral pink, but I manage to keep quiet. Look! It’s all brown and cream shades, Dad says as with a flourish he throws open the door to his new office. Julie calls it cappuccino and cream, he informs me, pride evident in his eyes.

I arch my eyebrows, It actually looks like a Doctor’s house should. I kind of, like this.

Dad’s face lights up; Really?

Instantly I decide to stop moaning. No point in us both feeling miserable. I praise, Yeah, neutrals are in right now and it’s a nice change from all the HFAC pink. Dad looks even happier. We walk along a parquet-floored hall with peacock-blue silky walls and creamy rugs. I admit, Against my will I actually don’t hate one of Julie’s décor jobs. If I was in a better mood, I might even have liked this house.

And there’s more, Dad promises.

This house’s been here for hundreds of years, it’s not going anywhere, slow down? I plead, as my excited Dad races ahead and bounds up endless flights of stairs. My breath starts to huff as I trail after him. What’s up here anyway? I so CBB, trailing around some dusty old attic.

What’s that, Danni? Dad pops his head over a bannister and peers down at me.

I shout up, CBB, ‘can’t be bothered’ with the attics.

Come on up, Pumpkin. It’ll be fun.

Fun? on which planet? I groan, but I follow him up anyway.

Dad grins and turns a key in an entrance door at the very top of all the stairs. There’s a little flat in here; with its own kitchenette, a bedroom and even a wet room too.

Putting my head on one side I say, A flat and a wet room, in what universe would that be necessary?

Dad laughs. Not necessary exactly, but Julie thought it’d be nice.

Who’s going to use it, the local pigeons? because we’ve all got our own bathrooms.

Dad grins, Nice though?

It is nice. Poking my head around each door, I can’t stop myself searching for the angelic-looking removal boy and being a bit disappointed when there’s no sign of him. At least it’s all painted white, I approve, but it’s really tucked away up here in the eaves and we’ve tons of bedrooms. So how come you’ve had this furnished? I wave my hands at the neatly made-up bed and the angle poised lamp decorating a chest of draws.

Dad explains, Julie thought we might need it for visiting hospital staff.

Yeah, right, you mean Julie loves buying home furnishings. We’re never gonna use this!

Dad grins admitting, A distinct possibility.

Now I’m sure the removal boy isn’t up here anymore I lose interest, Whatever. We troop back down the steep stairs and I grab the wooden banister for support. Can’t see anyone wanting to climb up this lot too often, I puff, these stairs are torture. There’s no way Daisy’ll ever clamber up here.

Dad says, Down we go, everyone’s in the kitchen.

I can’t help the sarcastic snipe, Oh joy.

Dad pulls open the kitchen door. Here we are. The kitchen’s state of the art all granite tops and sparking chrome.

It is, apart from in the corner where I see a quaint old-fashioned Aga cooking range, a portly green-jacketed gentleman from another era. The scent of the fresh herbs welcomes us in, and I spot them growing in pots on the windowsill. I admit, Top kitchen, then I add, shame Julie won’t actually be cooking in it.

Dad shudders, Let’s hope not! Julie’s attempts at cooking are legendary. When I first met your mother in High School, Julie was burning a cake. I knew she was the girl for me but that we’d be eating a lot of take-out.

Isn’t Julie the opposite of a typical doctor’s wife?

Exactly, she livens everything up, that’s why I adore her.

I nod my head. Yeah, you deeply, dippily, do love Julie and all her eccentricities. You’re great with us all really. You’re a fab dad. I find myself grinning at him.

Dad latches on to my lighter expression, We’re all going to be so happy here.

I feel a scowl replace my smile. I mutter under my breath, No, we’re so not!

What was that, Danni?

I mumble, Nothing, just admiring the Aga/Rayburn thingy.

The words I’ve been dreading stab at my ears like sharp knives. Dad fakes sounding casual, New school in the morning, Danni.

I’m not fooled. I cry out, T-t-tomorrow but it’s still the summer holidays?

Dad says in fake jolly hockey-sticks tones, The Scottish school year starts in the middle of August and you want to catch the first term at Drumhousie Castle School, don’t you? Don’t look so worried. Your uniform’s all ready. Julie’s organised everything.

Yeah, for Julie. I bite down hard on my bottom lip.

****

By eight the next morning I’ve bitten my poor lip into a bruised pulp. Didn’t sleep at all last night. I plod down never-ending flights of stairs. Mine’s the top bedroom, just under the attic, since Daisy and Asher bagged the floor below.