The Countess of Erroll
by
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Prologue
Three and one-half minutes!
"I am sorry, but ladies, you have indeed missed the flight, by three and one-half minutes to be precise.”
As I stared in disbelief at the British Airways receptionist at the passenger check in counter at Gatwick Airport, my colleague, who was accompanying me from the university from the United States, began to decompensate before my weary eyes. From observing my work colleague from previous encounters with adversity or trials in her life, I knew that the receptionist would be in for the long haul---this would not be a short simple scene, as the receptionist had undoubtedly had hoped with her terse greeting!
"We are here in plenty of time,” cried my colleague. “The flight to Charlotte does not even take off for two and one-half hours, and there is plenty of time to check in our luggage.”
"I am extremely sorry; again, ladies, but rules are rules. We close the flight luggage reception at exactly two hours before the flight take-off. The baggage reception closed exactly three and one-half minutes ago, and you will not be allowed to board,” stated the receptionist with a defiant air.
I knew from the onset that this would not be a good solution, as my colleague began to become belligerent. “What do you mean; we are here in plenty of time. I want to talk to your manager, and I want to talk to him now. We have waited in line for over an hour to just get close to the baggage counter. I have to get home today to see my husband in Charlotte, and I have to board the flight. Let me talk to your manager!”
The face of the receptionist at British Airways began to become as flushed and reddened, as her dyed bright red hair! She began to roll her eyes at both of us, and another receptionist walked over to the counter to join the latter. “Madam, you are talking to the manager. She is the manager for this division of the terminal,” stated sharply, the second receptionist (who I believe had been sent over for reinforcement in the verbal exchange with the two American lady passengers!).
As the dismayed passengers waiting in line behind us began to become frustrated and upset upon hearing the baggage check-in had promptly closed at exactly 10:00 am on the dot, my colleague emotionally began to deteriorate in front of my eyes. As the tears began to overcome her face, she began to wail and scream, stating that “she would get home today, as she had to teach college classes in the morning”.
As I realized all too clearly, that we were indeed not going to be boarding the flight home to Charlotte, (due to the guardians of the baggage check-in denying us access due to our late entrance in line by, of course, three and one-half minutes), a sudden thought came into my mind.
"Might I inquire, when exactly, can we secure two tickets home to Charlotte, North Carolina?” was my clearest thinking question that I could muster as my colleague continued to thrash and cry about. I knew that we had to come to some decision, and promptly, if not for my colleague's sake, for the sake of the passengers whom were waiting in line in aghast at the burgeoning scene!
The receptionist then glared at me, as if to say “How dare do you ask a question such as this, when you are the ones that missed your baggage check-in!” but did reply, as if knowing that I was trying to make a plan for the two of us to somehow muddle through this turmoil and keep the other passengers in line from revolting out of control.
"There are not any flights for over two days. The flights are
totally booked, and you would need to select standby --of course, there is not a guarantee that you would even have a seat on standby-but nevertheless, you will need to select standby, and hope for the best”, was the argumentative reply from the manager of the British Airways baggage check-in counter.
At this point in the discussion, my own emotions began to rise, and I knew that we were running low on funds. We had flown over from Charlotte, North Carolina to stay for only six days, and had already used our funds for meals, lodging and one brief theater show in London, earlier in the week. The only funds we had remaining, I remembered, were our train vouchers, in which we had three days of free remaining pass left for train travel within the United Kingdom.
"I want to ask you this question,” I pointedly demanded of the receptionist. “When can we both secure seats home to Charlotte this week? I need to know what date and time is available, in which you can guarantee our seats back to the states, please”.
The agent began to hurriedly and quite in a rush, click onto the computer keyboard. As her face grew more intolerant of both my colleague and me, she grumbled, “The earliest that I can book you to Charlotte, North Carolina, is Tuesday afternoon.”
"Oh my,” I thought as I counted the days on my hand. Today was Sunday morning, so we would need to find someplace to stay for tonight and Monday night, and then hope that we could catch the flight on Tuesday afternoon home to Charlotte.
Suddenly in my mind, I could see the word, Edinburgh, and I knew what we would do for two days! It was as if the single word, Edinburgh, crept into my consciousness in a flash, and it seemed the immediate solution. Edinburgh, Scotland, indeed, but I was too upset to even think through how far Edinburgh would be to travel to from the city of London, England! All I knew was that Edinburgh was the answer to our dilemma.
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About the Book
My journey encapsulates a three year mystery that began in Edinburgh, Scotland in October 2006 in which I was led by a variety of mysterious historical symbols to learn about the life and challenges of Lady Mary Hay in Cruden Bay, Scotland, who was the 14
About the Author
S. Elizabeth Edwards, Ed. D is an Assistant Professor of Nursing at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee, North Carolina. She has made a lifetime study of the Countess of Erroll and her valiant efforts to help the many men that fought in the battle of Culloden in 1745.