For some reason I've been asked to write this blog today. This is something I've not tried before and I hope it's not going to become a regular feature of my life in the novels. As if I haven't enough to do.
Don't get the wrong impression -I don't go out looking for trouble, but it seems as if it comes after me.
Every time I go to the island of Bute, it's with the intention of having a rest, a break from the routine of working as a teacher in Glasgow. Simon (that's my husband) and I only went to Bute the time before last because my best friend Susie inherited a large Victorian house there. That seemed simple, but it almost ended in disaster.
And my most recent visit to the island was to help organise a reunion for my old college friends. 'Help' - that's a bit of a misnomer. I ended up doing most of the work. And if Deborah (that's my younger daughter) hadn't become involved wth a man who was much older than her, it might all have worked out. But then again, it might not. Betsie (the friend who came up with the idea for a reunion) wasn't quite the person I thought she was.
And now I find that in the W-I-P I'm no longer a teacher,but have had to take on a commission to write a history of the Rothesay Pavilion. I ask you! I'm not at all sure I'm up to that task, even though I have a great young research assistant,Tara. I was a bit dubious when I saw her at first -I think Goth describes her way of dressing- but at least she has good research skills. Though I'm very worried about the bearded man who is lurking about. I've no idea what he's doing and what's more, I suspect Myra doesn't know either.
That's probably enough for now. I have to find a way to get out of my latest difficulty and I'm getting little help from the author.