Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“You want a lift?” the woman, wearing a brown bobble hat, says. She looks as confused as I do.
“I’m looking for Kinloch Cottage. Do you know it?” I bend down, not wanting to miss what she says.
“Kinloch Castle?” she asks.
I pull out my phone to check the address Zach wrote out for me. “I don’t think so. He definitely said Kinloch Cottage.”
“She wants the English guy,” the man in the passenger seat says. “In the Cove house.”
The Cove house? Does Zach own this place? It’s hardly a handy holiday home you can pop to at the weekend.
“Ahh,” the woman says, “the English one. Of course. I can drive you. Hop in.”
On any normal day, when a stranger tells me to hop into the back of their car, I’d run a mile and probably call the police to report an attempted kidnapping. But at this point in my journey, a little bit of kidnapping would be a welcome break from reality. I’m here for it.
“That would be great,” I reply. “Thanks so much.”
“You need a hand with your case?” the man says.
“No, thanks, I’m good.” I stick my case on the floor and then round the boot and get in the other side. I didn’t realize how cold I was until I’m in the car. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem. It would have been quite a walk. And our place isn’t far from Kinloch Cottage.” She smiles at me. “You recovered from that ferry ride?” she asks on a laugh. “Not sure if they’ll get off the dock. I’m surprised it ran.”
“Thank God it did,” the man says. “Don’t want to get stuck in Mallaig.” They both laugh like getting stuck in Mallaig is like being trapped in a theme park after all the rides are closed for the night.
“Down there you’ll find the post office and general store.” The woman points to a road that leads down to the coast.
“I’m not staying,” I say. “I’m just here to deliver a package for my boss. Then I need to head back.”
The man starts to say something but the woman taps him on the knee and he decides against it. Hopefully he wasn’t about to confess my fate and say, “You’re not going anywhere. We’re going to kill you, roast you, and have you for dinner.”
“It’s just up here,” the woman says in a singsong voice. “Not long now. Kinloch Cottage is the farthest out of all the homes up here. The rest of us like to be within walking distance of the shop. And we run the post office, so we have to be close. No matter the weather, we’re always open, aren’t we, Charlie?” She doesn’t wait for a response. “When the weather gets bad, there’s no driving anywhere.”
“Makes sense,” I say. “I’m sure it’s beautiful in the—”
“It’s always beautiful,” she says. “You just can’t see it today. Fog is a funny beast. Here one minute. Disappeared the next.”
“Better than the snow,” he says.
“Here we are.” We pull off the main road, down a dirt track. “I’ll leave you here and turn if that’s okay.”
A small, one-story, white-washed house is just visible through the soup of the fog. It’s probably only thirty meters away. “Perfect. Thank you so much.”
“Our pleasure. Welcome to Rum. See you again.”
Not likely, I don’t say. I’ll be on that ferry, back to Mallaig before the end of the day, and I won’t have any reason to stop at the post office between now and then. I climb out, pulling my case behind me. “Thank you again.” I wave and close the car door. My stomach churns with anticipation as I straighten and head toward the house.
I’m excited to see Zach’s face when he realizes I’ve come all this way to deliver his package by hand.
Twelve
Ellie
I lift the circular door knocker on the white paneled door and it lands with a clunk. I do it again and wait. He’s going to be so grateful. I can’t wait to see his face.
Zach opens the door and my stomach flips. It’s only been a day, but I’d forgotten how attractive he is. His blond hair looks more unruly than it usually does and he’s in dark grey joggers and a grandad t-shirt, the first few buttons undone, that reveals a little bit of chest hair I’ve never seen before.
“Ellie?” he says as if he’s just woken up. “What? How?”
“I brought the package,” I announce and can’t help but beam at him. I’m so pleased with myself. “I couldn’t find a courier who would get it here in less than three to five days. You were adamant you needed it before the end of today, so I brought it myself.”
His eyes widen and he pushes his hand into his hair, his t-shirt lifting to reveal ten centimeters of muscled torso. “Wow.” The wow isn’t delivered the way I would if someone had moved heaven and earth to give me what I needed. I get the same pit in my stomach I used to get when Shane would complain over the lack of mainstream media coverage I was able to secure for him after a race. Fact was, the mainstream media didn’t give two shits about Speedway. Frankly, not many people gave a shit about Speedway other than the riders and their families. Even the die-hard fans seemed to dwindle over the ten years I was Shane’s girlfriend-slash-manager.