Jak was surprised by the cheerful tone of her greeting.

“Yes, or at least I think so. I’m Jak McGee, and I’d like to see Mr MacKay.”

“Would that be Mr MacKay, the elder, or Mr Mackay, the Junior?” she asked.

“Err… I don’t know. I received this letter from you,” he said as he desperately tried to find it in his backpack.

After what seemed an eternity, but was probably only a second or so, he found the letter and handed it to the woman.

“Och, yes,” she said.
“I remember typing this. You’ll be wanting Mr Mackay Junior. He has a client with him at the moment, but he should be free in around 10 minutes if you’d care to wait?”

“Thanks. I’ll wait.”

Jak sat down and looked for something to take his mind off the big unknown that was lying ahead of him. He wasn’t successful. There wasn’t even a five-year-old and decidedly dog-eared copy of a magazine available for him to read.

“I can see a baggage tag on your case,” said the woman.
“Have you flown in today?”

Jak was slightly stunned by the directness of her question.
“Y… Yes, I did. I came up from London on the train.”

“Then you will be needing somewhere to stay tonight?”

“Errrr… Yes, I will.”

“Let me book you a room while you are with ‘young Mr MacKay.”

“I don’t want to put you to any trouble?”

“It is no trouble, I can assure you.”

She turned back to the computer, and after a bit of fiddling, she picked up the phone.

“Helen, it is Irene McCoist.”

“Yes, I’m fine, and so are the bairns.”

“I was wondering how you are fixed for guests?”

“You do?”

“Let’s start with a couple of nights. His name is Jak McGee, and he is visiting from America.”

“I’ll make sure he finds you ok.”

“Thanks, dear.”

“That’s all set, Mr McGee. Mrs McCoist runs a B&B on Ferry Road. There is a bus from the end of the road that will take you almost to her door.”

Jak didn’t look all that sure about it.

“I’m guessing that funds might be a bit tight? Some of the hotels in the city cost an arm and a leg for even a small room. Mrs McCoist does not charge the earth, and you get breakfast included.”

“How much is ‘not charging the earth’,” asked Jak, aware of how much he’d already spent that day getting up from Heathrow.

“Her best room with a view of the Castle is around £80 per night, including a ‘full Scottish’ breakfast.”

Inside, Jak breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“As I said, it is no trouble.”

A few minutes later, one of the heavy oak doors that led out of the reception area opened, and two people emerged.

“Don’t worry, Mrs Jackson. I’ll get the matter sorted. You very much have the law on your side. I’ll contact you in a few days about their response to your terms,” said the man.
Then he said to the receptionist.
“Irene, can you call a cab for Mrs Jackson?”

“Already ordered. It should be outside in around five minutes,” she said with a smile.

The man showed the older lady out of the office before returning to the reception.
“Donald, this is Mr Jak McGee.”

After a slight hesitation, a smile appeared on the face of Mr Donald MacKay.

“Mr McGee, welcome to Edinburgh. Won’t you please come through?”

Jak followed him into another oak-panelled room. This one had a view to the north over the river. He could even see a ship going upriver.

“Please, Jak, take a seat while I get your file… or rather, the file of your uncle, the late Calum McBride.”

Mr MacKay left him alone in the office. Once again, his attention turned to the view from the window. He could imagine him living in the city, but it reeked of money or at least the little that he’d seen so far.

His daydreaming was cut short by the return of Mr Mackay. In his hand, there was a folder at least four inches thick.

“Right, Mr McGee, let’s get down to business.”

That business would have to wait for at least a few minutes. The secretary arrived with a tray that contained some cups and, to his surprise, a teapot. On a plate, there were some shortbread biscuits. To Jak, this was the height of luxury.

With a cup of tea made with proper fresh milk and not powdered creamer in front of them, Mr Mackay opened the file.

“Mr Calum McBride was… shall we say, something of an eccentric person. He lived for the day, yet was a very successful entrepreneur when he put his mind to it. Let me give you an example.”

Jak was immediately intrigued, and somehow, he felt an affinity with his relative.

Donald handed Jak a photograph.
“That is your uncle at Woodstock in August 1969.”

Jak looked in awe at the image. It was of a man wearing what looked like a dress and with flowers in his hair and painted on his face. Jak guessed that he was still in his teens at the time.

“After that festival and the summer of love in California, he went back to New York, where he graduated from NYU in 1973 with a degree in Economics. That was when there was a break with the rest of his family. This was the time of Nixon and Watergate, plus the war in Vietnam, which was not going anywhere but badly for the USA. Calum decided that a trip to his ancestral home was better than being drafted and going to Vietnam. His eligibility for the draft had been deferred while he was a student.”

Donald looked up and saw a bit of a blank look on Jak’s face.
“This is all in his autobiography.”
“He wrote his life down?”

“He did. I am ashamed to say that I didn’t read it until after he’d died.”

“How did he… pass?”

“Here in Scotland, we pride ourselves on having the highest mountains in Britain. These are tiny when compared to those such as Mt McKinley or Mont Blanc. There is a sort of challenge amongst walkers and climbers to scale all of the peaks that are over 3000ft. We call them Munros and those who try to scale them all, ‘Munro Bagging or Baggers’. Calum had climbed all of the nearly 300 peaks in the early 1980s. He decided that it was time to repeat the feat. He'd just completed the two hundredth peak when, according to several witnesses, he just keeled over and died not long after arriving in Fort William from climbing the tallest of them, Ben Nevis.”

“What was the cause of death?”

“Heart failure was what the coroner ruled after an autopsy. His GP confirmed that he had been prescribed medication for a heart problem, but had declined to take it. That was when he set out to repeat his 1980s feat. It was almost as if he wanted to prove the doctor wrong or die trying.”

“GP?”

“Sorry. A GP is a general practitioner, or what you call a Family Doctor.”

“I get you. It sounds like he had a good life.”

“He did. His autobiography was self-published, and at the last count, it sold around thirty copies, most of which were to himself. I have a copy of it for you, plus an addendum that he was working on during the evenings while on the Munro quest. It gives an insight into his last few years.”

“Where did he live… in recent years?”

“For a part of the year, he lived a very simple life in a cottage over in Argyle near the Crinan Canal. I don’t expect you to know where that is, but I have prepared a package for you that lists the assets that he has bequeathed to you. Outside of that, he lived in a house in the City.”

Jak was pleased that things were moving on.

“Calum didn’t leave everything to you. He left his Edinburgh properties to his daughter.”

“He had a daughter?”

“He had an adopted daughter called Sarah. She lives in his home in Morningside. It was his base when he came here for the Festival and Fringe in the summer. Then, he’d stay until the spring.”

“Why me? I can’t recall ever meeting him. My father refused to talk about him or why they had a bust-up.”

“Calum’s autobiography may shed some light on it. It was, as usual in families, over money. We find that women and money cause more family breakups than anything. According to Calum, in the 1979/1980 timeframe, your father wanted Calum to invest in his coal mine, while Calum was more interested in putting his money into a couple of Tech Startups from California. The coal mine was a bust and simply ran out of coal in 1992 when your father lost all of his investment, but that was a minor dip in his finances. A huge transatlantic argument ensued, and the two never spoke again. According to his journal, the final straw was his decision to change his name from McGee to McBride, which is the surname of his maternal grandmother.”

Donald smiled.

“One of those startups was a then little-known company called Apple. Thanks to a tip from a former classmate of his, Calum was in on their original IPO and put in around $250,000. Calum started selling small bits of his stake in the company in 2010 when he bought the property that now belongs to his daughter. His remaining holdings are worth a considerable sum, as you might expect. The valuation at the time of his death is in the package that I will give you before you leave. Half of that is yours.”

“Ok, Mr MacKay, I’m guessing that there are some conditions to my inheritance? If there were not, then you would not have needed to tell me all this backstory?”

Donald smiled.
“That is true. As I said at the outset, your relative was slightly eccentric. However, I think that his main condition for you receiving your inheritance will not be that problematic.”

“What do you mean?”

“My instructions from Calum were clear. I have to show you this photo.”

Donald handed over a photo.

Jak looked at it, and for a moment, he nearly panicked. Then he relaxed.

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Is that you in the picture?”

“Yes. At last year’s Pride march in Boston. I know that the picture appeared in the Boston Globe, but… I have no idea how it got to Calum?”

“That is a mystery to me, but it did. After that picture appeared, he changed his will and divided it into two. Half for his daughter and half for you… if… You complete his challenge, that is.”

“Ok, Donald, out with it?”

“You are required to live in Scotland for a whole year as the woman you want to be. That isn’t so hard, is it?”

Jak shook his head.
“My visa is only for 90 days.”

“Calum thought about that. He bequeathed three of his companies to you. He named you not only the owner but also what you call the CEO. That comes with a salary that should satisfy the visa people, along with the supporting documents that we will supply.”

“All that help comes at a cost. How much? Lawyers the world over don’t come cheap. At the moment, I appear to be asset-rich or potentially so and cash-poor. I have around…”
He did a mental calculation,
“Around two hundred pounds to my name.”

“Calum was prepared for all this. Our costs and expenses have been paid up-front by Calum’s estate. His will identified the challenges of making parts of his will achievable. When he changed the will, we agreed on our costs for all our work. He was a man who knew what he wanted and was prepared to pay in advance for that to happen. We like people like Calum who know their mind. He drove a hard bargain, but both sides were happy with the outcome. We will make a small profit from dealing with his estate, but that is nothing when compared to the business he has given us over the years. We are not all money-grabbing shysters. Calum was family to me.”

Then he smiled.
“Calum was also a canny man. We only got half our costs on his death. Another 20% will be paid when you start the challenge, and the remainder after a year, success or failure. We tried hard to get more and sooner, but he was firm. The only change he was willing to make was to put all of our costs into escrow before we agreed to do it. The money is all there waiting for the stages to be reached. Another firm of Solicitors is handling all that, and their costs have already been paid by Calum. We were party to the agreement.”

“There is a lot to try to take in.”

“There is too much for one day, and judging by your body language, you need some proper food and sleep? Am I correct?”

Jak was feeling tired and way out of his league.

“You might be right. I’m sure that I’ll have a lot of questions tomorrow. I’d like, if it is possible, to meet his daughter?”

“She would like to meet you. Don’t worry; she’s not unhappy about sharing Calum’s inheritance. He made it clear to her a long time ago that it was to be shared, and there is more than enough to go around.”

“If I might ask, how much was in his estate? Approximately?”

“Jak, if you complete the challenge, then around one hundred and thirty million pounds will be yours, free and clear.”

Jak shook his head.
“Uncle Sam will want his take.”

Donald shook his head.
“That’s after paying your US tax liabilities which will be dealt with by a legal firm in Boston once you have signed on the dotted line here, but as Calum explained in a letter to you that I’ll give you in a minute, he hoped that you would make Scotland your home and, as he says, ‘like me, give Uncle Sam the finger’. He hoped that you would do that before accepting any of the capital from the estate. Calum used to misquote President Kennedy when he said, ‘Ask not what your country can take from you, ask yourself what you can keep for yourself. ’”

“Didn’t you say that Calum came here to avoid the draft? Would that not be awkward when it comes to revoking his citizenship?”

“It turned out that Calum was not selected by the draft lottery, so his coming here was… well, he didn’t need to have come, but he soon came to love this country as I am sure that you will when you see his cottage in Argyle. He became a British citizen in 1979 and nixed yours that same year. None of his investments here resulted in paying even one cent of tax to Uncle Sam. He was very proud of that. It made saying no to the demands that would come from your father every few years for one crackpot scheme after another easy to refute. I have another file, at least four inches thick, that records all those requests. Some of the language used by your father is quite… quite ripe to say the least. There was no love lost between them. Calum was never clear about what the last straw was between them, but whatever it was, it was big.”

“Do you know it yourself? This place in… Argyle?”

“Me? I’ve never been to it, but I have been to the area when I was younger. It is not like the city. The pace of life is like a snail, even compared to Edinburgh, and there are no carry-out shops on every corner.”

“Carry out?”

He grinned.
“Sorry, in your part of the world, they are takeaways. In that part of the world, ‘Fast food’ is what you make yourself.”

“I think I get the idea. What time can we resume in the morning?”

Donald looked at a large desk diary. Jak almost rolled his eyes. Even he had his calendar on his phone.

“May I suggest after lunch? Say around 2 pm? That will give you time to digest things and get a look at the city.”

A worried look came over Jak’s face.
“I didn’t think things through very well when I got your letter. I had enough funds to get here and for a few days, and that’s it.”

Donal didn’t reply but instead started looking through Calum’s file. He pulled out an envelope from the top and gave it to Jak.

Jak read the wording on it.

“Jak,
I know that money might be tight with that skinflint of a father cutting your allowance. If you get to Edinburgh, then this is for you. I know that you will spend it wisely. Calum.”

“Do you know how much is in here?”

Donald shook his head.
“I’d leave it until you are in your room. The fewer people who know about the money, the better, if you get my meaning?”

“Thanks, Donald. I’ll sleep on it and see you tomorrow afternoon.”

The two men shook on the deal to meet the following day.

Just as Jak was leaving the room, Donald said,
“Jak, I forgot to give you this.”
He picked out a blue folder from the large one on his desk.

“You seem to have been prepared for me to come?”

“Calum was insistent that we were fully prepared for you to come. When we received notice of his passing, I had to identify him at the hospital in Fort William, as his daughter was abroad. When I returned, I went through his instructions in fine detail and prepared everything for your arrival.”

“Thanks. He sounds like quite a man.”
“He was. He loved to dress unconventionally when he came to the city. He always brightened up the office when he visited us.”

Jak was escorted to his B&B by the secretary. He had one of the rooms that gave a great view of the city, including the castle, not that he enjoyed much of it that day. He lay down on the bed, and before he knew it, it was 05:00 the following morning.

Feeling guilty for not studying the information in the folder that he’d been given the previous day, he settled down to it after taking a much-needed shower.

The ‘full Scottish’ breakfast provided by the landlady was more than welcome, as were the copious amounts of coffee. That allowed him to finish reviewing the documents in the folder by 10:00.

Zak walked back into the city through the ‘New Town’ and up the hill into the ‘Old Town’. The difference to him was pretty dramatic. He went for a coffee to kill some time when a loud bang put him on alert. It was the same bang as he’d heard the previous day.

“What was that bang?” he asked someone who was sitting at the next table.

“That was the one o’clock gun. It goes off almost every day from the castle.”

Jak relaxed. The place grew stranger than ever. Strange but very different from anywhere he’d been before. He tried to imagine what Calum had seen and felt when he came here for the first time. From what he knew of their family tree, his branch was a more recent emigrant from Scotland to the USA. Perhaps… he wondered… did Calum feel at home in the city, and that was why he stayed?

Zak walked down the hill towards Princes Street, smiling. The place seemed to be growing on him. He imagined that it was much the same for Calum.

[to be continued]