during their holidays together, but now it was all up to her.
How hard can it be?
As it turned out, picking up a pre-booked rental car wasn't very difficult at all. However, Clarice was still battling residual nerves by the time she made it into the driver's seat and started leafing through the various printouts of the route to the Isle of Skye. It looked easy enough, there weren't very many roads to choose from. The maps on Clarice’s phone concurred.
A deep breath later, she turned the key. So far so good, now it was time for the home stretch.
As pretty as the drive towards the Isle of Skye was, it did nothing to prepare her for the beauty ahead. Stark black cliffs stood out against the dramatic clouds overhead. There wasn't much vegetation, just grasses and mosses with the occasional small grouping of trees that had managed to battle the elements for survival.
Though the road snaked through the landscape up ahead, Clarice still felt like an explorer, discovering this mysterious land for the first time. At every bend, she instinctively slowed, both to cater for oncoming vehicles - which were few and far between - as well as to admire the views.
She passed through a few small towns on the way, but for the most part, the island seemed unspoiled and almost barren. The road narrowed more and more as she reluctantly drove on. Every map she'd printed out, even the satellite navigation on her phone confirmed she was on the right track, yet the road ahead looked too small to lead anywhere.
Finally, she made it to a small settlement that according to Google was a mere twenty minutes away from her destination.
Village
would be too big a word for the cluster of houses she found. Luckily one of the buildings housed a small daily needs shop. Clarice parked right outside, eager to stock up on some essentials so she wouldn't have to leave the cottage at least for the next couple of days.
"Hello?" she called out through the open door.
No answer.
She stuck her head inside, looking around the dimly lit interior of the store. It looked like somebody's living room, with a few racks of groceries, as well as firewood and some camping supplies stacked up inside.
"Excuse me?" she asked again.
Finally, an old man appeared through the door at the far end of the room.
"Ah, a customer!" He shot her a smile that seemed to wrinkle up every inch of his face all at once. "How can I help?"
"I just wanted to buy a few things," Clarice explained, smiling nervously while eyeing the shelf of cookies nearer the wall.
"Aye, of course. Please take a look around. If you're after anything specific, we may need to order it in."
Clarice nodded and gathered up some packets of digestives. It was a bad habit, snacking while writing, especially when writing was your main job and you spend a lot of time doing it. With the deadline hanging over her head, she didn't know how else to cope.
She rounded off her selection with some bread, eggs, and other daily essentials, then made her way towards the counter where the old man was waiting. He didn't even have a till. Instead he listed up everything on a notepad and totaled it in his head.
"Where are you staying, if I may ask?" He handed her the torn off sheet of paper, with the total, £20.78 written in shaky pencil.
Clarice paused for a moment, wondering if it was wise to answer.
What the hell, this place is so small, he would probably find out anyway. You're not in London anymore!
"Moss Cottage. That's just up the road I suppose?"
"Ah yes. The old McMillan farm. Lovely place, very quiet. Just-" He leaned forward, raising his hand gravely. "Take care of the bear."
"Thanks. Umm, wait, what bear?" Clarice asked.
"Up in the hills around the farm. Keep your eyes open if you go wandering out by yourself. Especially in the evenings."
Clarice scrutinized the old man's face, looking for any sign that he was just pulling her leg, but his expression remained completely serious.
"I wasn't aware that there were
How hard can it be?
As it turned out, picking up a pre-booked rental car wasn't very difficult at all. However, Clarice was still battling residual nerves by the time she made it into the driver's seat and started leafing through the various printouts of the route to the Isle of Skye. It looked easy enough, there weren't very many roads to choose from. The maps on Clarice’s phone concurred.
A deep breath later, she turned the key. So far so good, now it was time for the home stretch.
As pretty as the drive towards the Isle of Skye was, it did nothing to prepare her for the beauty ahead. Stark black cliffs stood out against the dramatic clouds overhead. There wasn't much vegetation, just grasses and mosses with the occasional small grouping of trees that had managed to battle the elements for survival.
Though the road snaked through the landscape up ahead, Clarice still felt like an explorer, discovering this mysterious land for the first time. At every bend, she instinctively slowed, both to cater for oncoming vehicles - which were few and far between - as well as to admire the views.
She passed through a few small towns on the way, but for the most part, the island seemed unspoiled and almost barren. The road narrowed more and more as she reluctantly drove on. Every map she'd printed out, even the satellite navigation on her phone confirmed she was on the right track, yet the road ahead looked too small to lead anywhere.
Finally, she made it to a small settlement that according to Google was a mere twenty minutes away from her destination.
Village
would be too big a word for the cluster of houses she found. Luckily one of the buildings housed a small daily needs shop. Clarice parked right outside, eager to stock up on some essentials so she wouldn't have to leave the cottage at least for the next couple of days.
"Hello?" she called out through the open door.
No answer.
She stuck her head inside, looking around the dimly lit interior of the store. It looked like somebody's living room, with a few racks of groceries, as well as firewood and some camping supplies stacked up inside.
"Excuse me?" she asked again.
Finally, an old man appeared through the door at the far end of the room.
"Ah, a customer!" He shot her a smile that seemed to wrinkle up every inch of his face all at once. "How can I help?"
"I just wanted to buy a few things," Clarice explained, smiling nervously while eyeing the shelf of cookies nearer the wall.
"Aye, of course. Please take a look around. If you're after anything specific, we may need to order it in."
Clarice nodded and gathered up some packets of digestives. It was a bad habit, snacking while writing, especially when writing was your main job and you spend a lot of time doing it. With the deadline hanging over her head, she didn't know how else to cope.
She rounded off her selection with some bread, eggs, and other daily essentials, then made her way towards the counter where the old man was waiting. He didn't even have a till. Instead he listed up everything on a notepad and totaled it in his head.
"Where are you staying, if I may ask?" He handed her the torn off sheet of paper, with the total, £20.78 written in shaky pencil.
Clarice paused for a moment, wondering if it was wise to answer.
What the hell, this place is so small, he would probably find out anyway. You're not in London anymore!
"Moss Cottage. That's just up the road I suppose?"
"Ah yes. The old McMillan farm. Lovely place, very quiet. Just-" He leaned forward, raising his hand gravely. "Take care of the bear."
"Thanks. Umm, wait, what bear?" Clarice asked.
"Up in the hills around the farm. Keep your eyes open if you go wandering out by yourself. Especially in the evenings."
Clarice scrutinized the old man's face, looking for any sign that he was just pulling her leg, but his expression remained completely serious.
"I wasn't aware that there were
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