Chapter One
Throughout her flight into Inverness, Scotland, Clarice found herself repeatedly going over the printout she’d taken of her destination: Moss Cottage on the Isle of Skye. It promised unspoiled vistas, a homely atmosphere and most importantly of all: a quiet getaway from the hustle and bustle of modern life.
That's what she needed most: to get away. Away from the distractions of life in London, away from the constant buzz of her phone, notifying her of incoming emails or tweets. Away from all reminders of the life she used to share with Alan before she caught him cheating on her.
Upon her arrival at the cottage, she would send a message to Lily, her best friend, who had also been the one to suggest the Isle of Skye as a destination to begin with, and that was it. Clarice had promised herself to switch everything off. From nine to five daily, she would be
unplugged
, allowing her to focus on the task at hand.
After stealing a glance out the window - they were still descending through thick cloud cover - she flipped the page over, reading the backside again.
Local attractions include wildlife walks, beach walks, hill trails.
Walks, basically, all you could do on the Isle of Skye according to this text was go for a quiet walk.
It is going to have electricity, though, won't it?
Clarice read the other side again and studied the accompanying pictures. There was a table lamp in one of the shots, which suggested that electricity was indeed going to be supplied... As long as her laptop had power, everything was going to be all right.
As the small plane landed bumpily on the runway, she felt a surge of excitement as well as nerves build within her chest. Soon, a mere three-hour drive away, she was going to arrive at her destination.
"
Please remain seated until the fasten seatbelt sign is switched off,
"
said the captain's almost robotic voice over the intercom.
Clarice smiled to herself. N
o way that's going to happen
. Half these people would be up, carry-on luggage and phone in hand, before the plane came to a halt.
She leaned over to get a better look out the window. The views throughout most of the flight had been obstructed by a thick layer of clouds, far below the altitude of the plane. Now, the outside world looked as one would expect Scotland to look in early autumn: grey and damp.
How does it matter, it's not like I'll leave the house, much.
Clarice took a deep breath, holding it in an attempt to calm her nerves. She had never done anything like this. Leave it all behind for a few weeks of solitude.
But this time, it was necessary. Early attempts to figure out if there was any flexibility in the deadline for her latest book had only resulted in her editor breathing down her neck harder. Apparently anything short of a deadly illness wasn't cause enough to postpone a release. A messy breakup and resulting existential crisis didn't count. That was why Clarice had been forced to resort to drastic measures to finish the manuscript on time.
Finally, the fasten seatbelt signs switched off with the customary ding, and soon after, the doors of the plane opened. Clarice smiled a final goodbye to the quiet old man seated next to her. The flight was relatively short, as far as flights go, but she was still surprised that he hadn't said a word throughout. He nodded, then joined the throng of impatient passengers heading for the door.
It was a small airport, meaning you didn't get one of those fancy walkways leading from the plane straight to the door. Instead, all the passengers were let off via a mobile staircase, and then they walked along demarcated pathways painted on the concrete taxiway, towards the modest looking terminal building to collect their bags.
The bags arrived in a similarly low-tech manner: on trolleys in plain view of the waiting passengers. Clarice found her suitcase and started walking, aimlessly at first, until she spied the car rental sign.
Alan used to take care of all of these things
Throughout her flight into Inverness, Scotland, Clarice found herself repeatedly going over the printout she’d taken of her destination: Moss Cottage on the Isle of Skye. It promised unspoiled vistas, a homely atmosphere and most importantly of all: a quiet getaway from the hustle and bustle of modern life.
That's what she needed most: to get away. Away from the distractions of life in London, away from the constant buzz of her phone, notifying her of incoming emails or tweets. Away from all reminders of the life she used to share with Alan before she caught him cheating on her.
Upon her arrival at the cottage, she would send a message to Lily, her best friend, who had also been the one to suggest the Isle of Skye as a destination to begin with, and that was it. Clarice had promised herself to switch everything off. From nine to five daily, she would be
unplugged
, allowing her to focus on the task at hand.
After stealing a glance out the window - they were still descending through thick cloud cover - she flipped the page over, reading the backside again.
Local attractions include wildlife walks, beach walks, hill trails.
Walks, basically, all you could do on the Isle of Skye according to this text was go for a quiet walk.
It is going to have electricity, though, won't it?
Clarice read the other side again and studied the accompanying pictures. There was a table lamp in one of the shots, which suggested that electricity was indeed going to be supplied... As long as her laptop had power, everything was going to be all right.
As the small plane landed bumpily on the runway, she felt a surge of excitement as well as nerves build within her chest. Soon, a mere three-hour drive away, she was going to arrive at her destination.
"
Please remain seated until the fasten seatbelt sign is switched off,
"
said the captain's almost robotic voice over the intercom.
Clarice smiled to herself. N
o way that's going to happen
. Half these people would be up, carry-on luggage and phone in hand, before the plane came to a halt.
She leaned over to get a better look out the window. The views throughout most of the flight had been obstructed by a thick layer of clouds, far below the altitude of the plane. Now, the outside world looked as one would expect Scotland to look in early autumn: grey and damp.
How does it matter, it's not like I'll leave the house, much.
Clarice took a deep breath, holding it in an attempt to calm her nerves. She had never done anything like this. Leave it all behind for a few weeks of solitude.
But this time, it was necessary. Early attempts to figure out if there was any flexibility in the deadline for her latest book had only resulted in her editor breathing down her neck harder. Apparently anything short of a deadly illness wasn't cause enough to postpone a release. A messy breakup and resulting existential crisis didn't count. That was why Clarice had been forced to resort to drastic measures to finish the manuscript on time.
Finally, the fasten seatbelt signs switched off with the customary ding, and soon after, the doors of the plane opened. Clarice smiled a final goodbye to the quiet old man seated next to her. The flight was relatively short, as far as flights go, but she was still surprised that he hadn't said a word throughout. He nodded, then joined the throng of impatient passengers heading for the door.
It was a small airport, meaning you didn't get one of those fancy walkways leading from the plane straight to the door. Instead, all the passengers were let off via a mobile staircase, and then they walked along demarcated pathways painted on the concrete taxiway, towards the modest looking terminal building to collect their bags.
The bags arrived in a similarly low-tech manner: on trolleys in plain view of the waiting passengers. Clarice found her suitcase and started walking, aimlessly at first, until she spied the car rental sign.
Alan used to take care of all of these things
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