The Haunting of Mary King's Close (No longer writing)

BOOK ONE: Chapter Two

" Mornin'," he boomed spreading his arms in front and grinning ear to ear, happy to see them.  "What ye doin' for food?" he joked around fully aware that every day Haggis was incorporated into the meal somehow. "Mince and tatties." A grin grew over his face when he saw the contents of the pot. He was never happier to be wrong when it came to breaking the customary Haggis meal. 

" 'Ello Da." Cora smiled at him before going to him for a quick hug. "It's simple," Cora responded, pleased that he was happy. When Niall was happy, everyone was happy. If not…nobody was happy. He ruled with a solid system and when his children disobeyed he brought his fist upon them to teach a lesson. But when he wanted to be, he was a kind father. 

Still in a happy mood, he walked over to the table towards Gregg." And ye are?" he said crouching down to his son's level and scuffing up his Gregg's hair with a strong arm.

Gregg pulled away smiling as he dragged his hands over his scalp, trying to flatten the hair out. But his efforts were unsuccessful for each hair flopped back. "Hungry," he stated flatly. "Cora betta hurries up." He smiled a smile that showed the absence of a tooth. 

"When Finlay gits home we eat," declared Cora to her younger brother, still tending the fire place where the pot was stationed. She was squatting close to the embers and with one hand, stirred the food and with the other she held her tanned skirt to keep it from catching fire.  "You hold on," she said with a stern tone in her voice but a smile over her lips.

As soon as she said those words, the door opened and in walked Finlay. His clothing was stained with drying blood and he wore a look of exhaustion on his face. His head was damp from the start of the rain that landed on him. He stumbled over to his seat at the table, taking long sluggish steps. He sat down in his seat and rested his sandy coloured hair on the table. "Food!" he groaned in an over exaggerated tired voice. "I'm dying!" he joked hoping to get a laugh out of the young Gregg. When he succeeded, Finlay sat up straighter still waiting for the food.  

Right on demand Cora placed the food on the table and each of them dug out their fair share. With fast flying fingers they brought the food to their greedy mouths thankful for it to be mid-meal. They were too busy eating to talk. Half way through shovelling food into their gluttonous mouths, Gregg paused and called everyone's attention. "Shoods we pray?" he asked putting stopping for a moment.

It was a strange question for never were they the time to pray before mid-meal? Nor were they the type of people to pray before bed and in the morning. The only time they even bothered with praying was on Sundays. That is if they found their way to church in time.

"Gone mental have ye?" Niall choked on his food. "Who we gonna pray tae?" he took another bite before continuing. "Charlie? Mebbe Scottish bloods but he no Scott."

"Thought-" Gregg stuttered trying to find defensive words. But he had nothing. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand leaving a dirt streak on his cheek.

"We got life don’t we?" Cora chipped in trying to defend her brother who was nearly brought to tears.

Niall looked at his daughter for a moment, trying to suppress a laugh."Haven't ye hurd? Th' Sickness is back. Up Roxburgh a laddie git ill an' died toow days later. We got nothing tae pray tae." Those snapping words, closed the conversation.

Niall warned his children about the horrors of the world.   It seemed like that was all he did besides work. Work and take care of his three beautiful children.  He didn’t mind it though. Not much anyway.

"Shite," Finlay muttered into his food. "Me friend, Tam, lives up thar." He scraped the potato chunks around his plate.  After a moment of thinking sorrow, he shrugged it off and said, "sure it nuthin'," in a laughing tone. "He a strung laddie."