red-headed warrior who was destined
to sweep me away to happily ever after.
Especially after the episode with Rabbie.
“Let’s do it,” I said, making up my mind on
the spot. “Is it a long taxi ride from here?”
She jumped up, wiping her face with the back
of one hand. “Who needs a feckin’ taxicab?” she said, grinning. “The sun’s
shining! We’re goin’ by bike.”
And so as Susan went off to arrange for a
second bicycle rental for me, I went up to pay for her coffee. Turns out she’d
forgotten to look after her breakfast, so I added the bill to my own, thinking
of the money saved on cab fare. After all, I’d planned to tour Culloden near
the end of my trip, and Susan had promised to show me where the secret graves
of a rogue band of Irishmen who had fought alongside the Scots lay. I’d never find
anything like that on my own.
I stepped outside the coffee shop to find
Susan already half a block ahead of me.
“Bike shop’s just up the street here,” she
called, and I limped along as fast as my sore knee would allow, cursing her
cheeriness every step of the way.
But damned if my head didn’t hurt any more.
At all.
She stood with a hand on the door to the
shop. Outside three or four bicycles of assorted sizes stood propped in a
rusting iron stand.
“Right. You have a look out here and decide
which bike is the best for you. I’ll go in and take care of the deposit, yeah?”
“I can come in—you shouldn’t have to
pay my deposit, Susan.”
She waved me off. “Ach, it’s jes’ five quid
to rent. Yeh pay the bulk of it when ye return ’em. We’ll even it out then.”
With that, she turned on her heel and
marched inside to the tinkling of a little bell tied to the door. I slowly
walked along the line of bikes, trying to judge which one would suit me best.
My knee was pretty sore, so I wanted something that was the right size so as
not to aggravate the weird knee injury I had acquired while escaping Rabbie. I
had my hand on a flashy little green number when a young man stepped out the
door.
“Right—yeh like that one, do ye?
‘Fraid it’s a bit too small a frame for a big girl like you—howse aboot
yeh try this one?”
I dragged my big girl ass over and tried
sitting on the black utility number he held out to me. “It’s got a nice lamp on
it for the evenin’,” he said, encouragingly.
“I have no intention of riding after dark,”
I said, coldly. ”But it’ll be fine. I’ll take it.”
He smiled blandly back at me, oblivious to
my attempts to cut him dead with my eyes. “Early in the year for you American
girls to be out touring the country,” he said.
I was about to point out to him that only
one of us was American, when the bell tinkled again and Susan came out of the
shop. She threw her leg over the green bicycle and the young man nodded. “Looks
about right,” he said. “See yiz later, eh?”
I declined to wave goodbye.
As the young man walked back into the shop,
Susan wheeled her bike over beside me and nudged me with her elbow. “He were a
feckin’ looker, weren’t he?” she hissed. “I’da bent my ass over the countertop
with him if we weren’t on the go today, I tell yeh.”
“I can’t see it,” I said, but she’d already
pulled out onto the street.
I jumped on my bike and pedaled after her.
Knee or no knee, I was going to keep up if it killed me.
The ride to Culloden Battlefield was,
according to the local map I had tucked in my pack, along a fairly straightforward
route of only a bit more than five miles. Susan had been to the battlefield
many times before, she assured me, and though it was her first time taking a
bicycle, felt it would take us no more than a half an hour to get there. I
found the first ten minutes to be pretty tough, negotiating on the left side of
the road. Twice I pulled right into traffic, and the second time Susan had to
literally reach out and grab my shirt to yank me out of the way of a
to sweep me away to happily ever after.
Especially after the episode with Rabbie.
“Let’s do it,” I said, making up my mind on
the spot. “Is it a long taxi ride from here?”
She jumped up, wiping her face with the back
of one hand. “Who needs a feckin’ taxicab?” she said, grinning. “The sun’s
shining! We’re goin’ by bike.”
And so as Susan went off to arrange for a
second bicycle rental for me, I went up to pay for her coffee. Turns out she’d
forgotten to look after her breakfast, so I added the bill to my own, thinking
of the money saved on cab fare. After all, I’d planned to tour Culloden near
the end of my trip, and Susan had promised to show me where the secret graves
of a rogue band of Irishmen who had fought alongside the Scots lay. I’d never find
anything like that on my own.
I stepped outside the coffee shop to find
Susan already half a block ahead of me.
“Bike shop’s just up the street here,” she
called, and I limped along as fast as my sore knee would allow, cursing her
cheeriness every step of the way.
But damned if my head didn’t hurt any more.
At all.
She stood with a hand on the door to the
shop. Outside three or four bicycles of assorted sizes stood propped in a
rusting iron stand.
“Right. You have a look out here and decide
which bike is the best for you. I’ll go in and take care of the deposit, yeah?”
“I can come in—you shouldn’t have to
pay my deposit, Susan.”
She waved me off. “Ach, it’s jes’ five quid
to rent. Yeh pay the bulk of it when ye return ’em. We’ll even it out then.”
With that, she turned on her heel and
marched inside to the tinkling of a little bell tied to the door. I slowly
walked along the line of bikes, trying to judge which one would suit me best.
My knee was pretty sore, so I wanted something that was the right size so as
not to aggravate the weird knee injury I had acquired while escaping Rabbie. I
had my hand on a flashy little green number when a young man stepped out the
door.
“Right—yeh like that one, do ye?
‘Fraid it’s a bit too small a frame for a big girl like you—howse aboot
yeh try this one?”
I dragged my big girl ass over and tried
sitting on the black utility number he held out to me. “It’s got a nice lamp on
it for the evenin’,” he said, encouragingly.
“I have no intention of riding after dark,”
I said, coldly. ”But it’ll be fine. I’ll take it.”
He smiled blandly back at me, oblivious to
my attempts to cut him dead with my eyes. “Early in the year for you American
girls to be out touring the country,” he said.
I was about to point out to him that only
one of us was American, when the bell tinkled again and Susan came out of the
shop. She threw her leg over the green bicycle and the young man nodded. “Looks
about right,” he said. “See yiz later, eh?”
I declined to wave goodbye.
As the young man walked back into the shop,
Susan wheeled her bike over beside me and nudged me with her elbow. “He were a
feckin’ looker, weren’t he?” she hissed. “I’da bent my ass over the countertop
with him if we weren’t on the go today, I tell yeh.”
“I can’t see it,” I said, but she’d already
pulled out onto the street.
I jumped on my bike and pedaled after her.
Knee or no knee, I was going to keep up if it killed me.
The ride to Culloden Battlefield was,
according to the local map I had tucked in my pack, along a fairly straightforward
route of only a bit more than five miles. Susan had been to the battlefield
many times before, she assured me, and though it was her first time taking a
bicycle, felt it would take us no more than a half an hour to get there. I
found the first ten minutes to be pretty tough, negotiating on the left side of
the road. Twice I pulled right into traffic, and the second time Susan had to
literally reach out and grab my shirt to yank me out of the way of a
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