Creeping into the bedroom, I see the mound underneath the sheets and force myself to swallow the laughter that rumbles in my chest. Looking over my shoulder, I double check that no one is around before sneaking into the room, tiptoeing to the edge of the bed and throwing myself across the large bed. 

When I don't hear Martha cursing me to hell, I frown and lift my head slightly. Pulling back the covers, I see that the mound is a soft pillow construction and that my daughter is nowhere to be found. Looking around, I try to work out where Martha could be; had she snuck out in the middle of the night? 

"Gotcha!" I heard my daughter's familiar twang shout mere seconds before I felt the pressure of her body crush me. Lying flush to the bed, with my face being smothered by the pillows underneath me, I feel Martha's hands tangle in my hair, tousling it up more. "Your attempt to scare me awake was pathetic, human."

When Martha stills, I use all my strength to flip myself over and glare at her. "Martha, sweetheart? I love you to death, you know that, don't you?" My daughter nods but still has the wisdom to narrow her eyes on me. Smirking at her, I say, "That doesn't mean I'm going to sit back and let you get away with this."

Sensing what I meant, Martha gasps, jumps up from the bed and sprints out the door. Following hot on her heels, I chase her around the house, ignoring the stern looks we receive from some of my grandfather's staff. Once we've covered the ground floor, Martha finds the side door that leads out to the garden. I pause briefly and look down at my feet, mentally berating myself for not wearing shoes, but after a second, I see that Martha's making her way through the garden and the distance between us is increasing. 

Not wanting this to be over, I put aside the fact that I'm barefooted and continue to sprint after her, glad that my strides cover three times the area that Martha's do. Nearing her, I see her swerve to where the tennis court and pool are located and follow her, hurdling over a low hedge so that I get to her faster. Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her from the ground and spin us around. Martha screams before falling into a fit of giggles, making me smile. Setting her down, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her into a hug, a moment which sobers us both up. 

"I love you, bindi," I tell her, kissing her temple. Unlooping my arms from her, I motion my head towards the house. "Come on, let's go back inside and grab some breakfast."

Martha nods. "Sure," she agrees. With hindsight, seeing Martha smile wickedly, I should have known she was plotting something. Suddenly, her hands were against my chest and she put all her strength into pushing me away from her. Wanting her to believe that she was that strong, I pretended to fall backwards, expecting to be able to rebalance myself but I misjudged where I was stood. Instead, I fell backwards into the freezing cold water of the pool. Martha laughed hysterically, doubling over with tears in her eyes. "Oh, my gosh, that was even better than I imagined. Hey, Daddy? I love you, too. Now, race you back to the house!"

Once I'd managed to drag myself out of the pool, I returned to the house, slopping my way back up to my room so that I could have a really warm shower. Before going to wake Martha up this morning, I'd quickly text Charlotte to let her know how excited I was to see her and Nugget tonight. Of course, she wondered who Nugget was but once I explained that it was a nickname I'd bestowed on the baby, she replied with a see no evil monkey. I had already filled her in on mine and Martha's little road trip across Scotland, including sharing the story of mine and Martha's matching hats.

"Martha even got a little baby hat for Nugget," I told Charlotte. "It's white with Alba written on it in dark blue stitching."

"Alba's a girl name," Charlotte was quick to point out. "Why would it be in blue if it's for a girl?"

I laughed. "Glad to see your of the pink for girls and blue for boys school of thought," I'd teased her. "But for the record, Alba is Scots Gaelic for Scotland and the flag is a white diagonal cross on what coloured background?"

"Blue," Charlotte grumbled. "Fine, I get it. You bought Nugget a Scottish hat."

Remembering her reaction, I begin to laugh again. Charlotte's desperate to know if Nugget is a boy or girl and while I'd love to spill the beans to her, I can't. Firstly, Charlotte would kill me for already knowing and I'd very much like to live long enough to see the birth of my child. Secondly, I want Charlotte to experience the surprise of finding out on the day that baby's born. Thirdly, and this is probably to satisfy my sick sense of satisfaction, I like being the one in the know. Charlotte gets to experience the wonders of everything, including being the one to feel the baby constantly moving, while I'm just on the sideline. So, if I can be in on a secret that no one else knows, then so be it. 

Ok, so Martha knows the baby's gender, but let's just ignore that fact for a moment. Or like, the next three months.

Once I finish in the shower, I dress quickly and meet Martha in the dining room. Currently, we were the only guests of the house. Granddad was away and returning today, while everyone else was due to arrive in the next few hours. 

"What are we doing today?" Martha asks as she shovels another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "We could always go swimming. I know how much you enjoyed that this morning."

"Ha bloody ha," I sarcastically tell her. "Actually, there's something I want to show you and then we're going on another little trip in the car."

Marhta snorts. "Little trip? Are you going to get us lost and am I going to have to drive?"

"Again, ha bloody ha," I say with a roll of my eye. I butter my toast and take a bite out of the corner. "Granddad has a detailed family tree in the study and I want you to see that. It's important for you to know where you came from-"

"I came from Mum's uterus because nine months earlier you ejaculated into her vaginal canal," Martha says as a matter of fact. My toast lingers in midair as I stare at her with wide eyes. "What? I listened in Biology and Sex Ed."

"I take back what I said earlier," I shake my head at her. "I have no fucking idea where you came from."

Once breakfast is over, I take Martha into my grandfather's study and pull out the Fletcher family tree. It's one of the most detailed in Scotland, according to some historian from Edinburgh University, and it goes back generations. Actually, it dates back to the 1400s but we're not interested in going back that far. Just to the turn of the 20th century, perhaps. 

I point my finger at Martha's name on the tree, watching as her eyes scan her name with interest. "They added me?" Martha ask.

"Of course," I scoff. "You're part of this family, are you not? So, that's you and then this would be me. Your aunts are here and my parents are here."

We work our way over to my uncle and his family before moving upwards. "Your granddad's name is Archibald?" When I nod, Martha laughs. "That is old school. Lilias Agnes Fletcher. Is that your grandmother?"

"Mhm," I nod sadly. "We called her Nanna but she typically went by Lili. She died when I was eight so I didn't get the chance to know her but I remember that she always smelled of lavender. She'd rave about its healing qualities. I swear, she'd insist that it could cure cancer. Ok, up here we have Granddad's siblings. James, John and William. These are their families."

It took us an hour to through the family tree, most of the time spent fielding Martha's questions. Eventually, she became bored and decided that she'd had enough of the history lesson for today. However, there was one last thing I needed her to see. Pulling out a smaller family tree, I rolled it out flat on the table and place it in front of Martha, waiting for my daughter to notice its relevance.

"Martha Lilias Kidd," she read the name from many generations ago. "Who is that?"

"That's my grandmother's grandmother," I tell her. "Nanny would always talk about how much fun she had with her grandmother and how she wanted that with me. She doted on her gran so when your mum and I found out about you, I suggested that we name you Martha. Of course, Aly wasn't keen but we couldn't agree on any other name and after everything... Aly came around in the end. So, that's how you got your name."

Martha- my daughter- smiled sadly. Leaning towards me, she kisses my cheek and smiles brightly at me. "So, about this road trip that we're going on- where exactly are we going?"

Not wanting to get dragged down Memory Lane when it came to Alyssa, I was quick to follow Martha's lead, grabbing the car keys from the table near the front door and running to the car. In typical Scottish fashion, it was now raining and I wasn't willing to let Martha drive. Instead, I jumped into the driver's seat and drove us down the long driveway towards the main road. 

With my grandfather's estate close to Applecross, we were very near to the Isle of Skye, where my grandmother and her side of the family were buried. It would only be a two-hour drive to Portree, where the cemetery is, and we'd have to cross Skye Bridge to get there. When Martha was younger, she had a fascination about bridges. It started with the Sydney Harbour Bridge and went from there, so I knew she'd get a kick out of crossing the steel construction. I wasn't wrong. When we reached the crossing, Martha sat up straighter and started to squeal like a little kid. 

"I've got to take some photos of this!" She beamed in my direction while simultaneously punching my bicep in excitement. "Dad, look at it! It's so fricking cool!"

Throughout our time on the Isle of Skye, Martha continued to be awed by everything. To her credit, she kept herself in check when we got to the cemetery. She laid down the bouquet of flowers she insisted we buy on our way there and bowed her head at my grandmother's gravestone, saying, "Nice to have finally met you, Lili." 

We wandered around Portree for a while and took loads of photos of the harbour. Martha kept joking that the harbour looked a little like Ballamory, the kid's TV show that she was obsessed with currently. I told her if she wanted to see the real Ballamory, we'd go tomorrow. 

"Wait, what?" Martha had asked, her face lighting up. "That's a real place?"

"Tobermory on the Isle of Mull," I confirm. "We'll go tomorrow before the party, yeah?"

Martha nods. "That'll be amazing. Can Charlotte come with us? I mean, I've liked the last two days with you but I'm kinda getting fed up of seeing your ugly face."

"My ugly face?" I guffaw. "What about your ugly face?"

"You know I inherited your genes, right?" Martha wittily tells me. Laughing, she turns her back on me and starts to make her way back to the car. "Come on, old man. Let's go see Nugget."

"And Charlotte?"

"Well, I can't exactly see Nugget without seeing Charlotte," Martha calls back at me. "Come on!"

We returned to my grandfather's estate shy of six that night just as a convoy of cars pulled up. My family exited their cars first, greeting me momentarily before Mum and Aunt Stephanie started their competition on whose family was more put together. From the corner of my eye, I could see my two cousins eyeing up Martha but soon enough, their focus fell on someone else.

"Isaac!" My name was called. When I was reunited with Charlotte, I'd imagined her smiling at me, not scowling. Which is what she was doing right now. Scowling. "Your grandfather lives in a castle?!"

I was about to answer her accusation but Martha came to my side and hugged Charlotte. "Before I rush off to get some popcorn so I can watch this fun little argument you're both going to inevitably get into, I just wanted to say hello to you and Nugget" Martha smiles. Her hand goes to Charlotte's neat little bump. "Hi, Nugget! Hi, Charlotte."

Turning on her heel, I wait until Martha's out of view before trying to hug Charlotte myself. She side steps me and scowls once more. "Your grandfather lives in a castle?"

"Yeah, about that," I sigh. Moving to stand at Charlotte's side, I look up at the house and wince. "Welcome to Glame Castle."

Glame Castle (not an actual castle in Scotland. I mean, the photo is of a castle in Scotland but it's not Glame Castle because there is no Glame Castle.)

So, you were all confused about the blue Alba hat. Hopefully, Isaac's explanation cleared that up! Here's the Welcome to Scotland sign that will better show you what it's about.

The Alba hat had nothing to do with whether Nugget is a boy or girl.

But, while we're on the whole name thingy- Martha was named after Isaac's grandmother's grandmother. I know a lot of you weren't so keen on her name because it's old-fashioned, but it's also sentimental. 

Tomorrow, we're going to see more of Isaac's family. I've yet to start writing the update, so is there a specific POV you'd like? You have the next 13 hours to let me know, but here are the options:

1. Dita (Isaac's mum) - always likes to out-do her sister-in-law

2. Alice (one of the sisters) - loves Charlotte, gets along with Martha like she's a sister

3. May (the other sister) - in an abusive relationship

4. Thalia (Isaac's cousin) - looks down her nose at a lot of people

5. Stephanie (Isaac's aunt) - competitive and wants to one-up Dita

6. Issac - Thor

7. Charlotte - Mother of Nugget

8. Martha - Queen of Sass

9. Darius (Isaac's dad) - brooding

10. Archie (Isaac's grandfather) - the whisky loving octogenarian who married a woman without telling his family, hence this party

The one with the most comments wins but choose carefully!

It'll be the last of this week's marathon of updates- until Sunday, of course!

See you tomorrow!

Sarah, xx