“I am so sorry. I’m not sure how this happened. We have never had any issues like this before. Looks like you have had your reservation a bit longer than Mr. Grant. He only booked it two days ago. May I speak with him?” she asked in a sheepish tone.
Nora felt bad for the woman since she had no idea what she was in for. She walked over to the sofa and held out her phone.
“Someone would like to speak to you, Mr. Grant.”
He raised his eyebrow at her at the mention of his surname and snatched the phone out of her hands.
“Yes, hello?”
Nora watched with a satisfied expression as the news was relayed to him. She noticed his mouth turning even more downward than before, something she thought impossible. He stuck his free hand into the pocket of his corduroy pants like a sulky child and looked down at his brown leather shoes.
“Yes, I understand. These things happen. I will find somewhere else to stay. Please don’t worry,” he said, in a tone that was soft and much more forgiving than she had expected.
She flashed him a cocky smile, gloating over her victory as he hung up the phone. He shot her a scathing look as he righted himself on the sofa.
Standing up, he tossed the phone at Nora. “Bravo, you win,” he said through gritted teeth as he gathered his belongings and walked to the door. “Always coming in second to the American, it seems,” he muttered before walking through the doorway and slamming the door so hard that the little sign that readAt the loch, every hour is happy hourflew off and landed on the floor at Nora’s feet.
She stood stunned and a bit confused. What just happened? There was no way she thought he was going to leave that easily. She had prepared herself for an all-out fight to the death over whogot to stay, but as soon as he talked to the woman on the phone it was as if he had turned into a completely different person. This left her head spinning and she walked over to the window, pulling the curtains to the side and peering up the stairs toward the other cabins.
He was on the steps with his cell phone pressed to his ear, talking in a very loud and agitated voice.
“Tell Tom I said, ‘fuck off,’ then. I’m skipping Letterfearn and moving on to the next destination on the list. I want to get this nightmare over with as soon as possible. I’ll be catching the next bus out of here, and if he doesn’t like it, he can fire me.” He stopped talking and turned around as if he felt Nora’s eyes watching him. She ducked back behind the curtain, her heart jumping up into her throat. She waited a few minutes before daring to peek back out the window. The stairs and walkway were empty, and she let out a sigh of relief.
Thank God he had not put up a fight because she wasn’t sure if she even had it in her today. She was exhausted, hadn’t eaten anything other than a gingerbread man, and had been holding an overly stretched bladder for almost six hours.
With that thought, Nora raced into the little side bathroom next to the door and emerged a minute later feeling at least a bit better. Now, she needed something to eat. The Airbnb reservations had a number for a local shop that would deliver groceries. She made a list and called the market’s number, placing an order for some essentials for the week.
While she waited, Nora explored the rest of the cottage. The downstairs was one large room aside from the small bathroom. The kitchen looked recently updated with new appliances and a large kitchen island, but she could see its old charm peeking through. The island not only provided a spacious work surfacebut also served as the dining area since there was no table and chairs—just four bar stools lined along the long side of it.
Past the kitchen, the room expanded into a sizable sitting area with a wall full of windows overlooking the loch. A long brown leather sofa sat against the windows, facing the kitchen. To its left was a large, very old stone fireplace flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with books. This sent a wave of excitement through her.I guess there was no need for the four books I packed with this collection sitting at my fingertips, she thought. She walked over and surveyed the titles. Most of the books were old, with titles she had never heard of, but her eyes stumbled upon a few classics she recognized. A book of Robert Burns’s poems, which she figured every home in Scotland would have,A Christmas Carolby Dickens,Animal Farmby Orwell, and a small group of Jane Austen books. She noticed a few travel and guidebooks on Scotland and the Highlands, and the rest were obscure authors she had never heard of but was excited to explore over the few days. It was just what she had envisioned for her relaxing week away in Scotland.
A cluster of logs was set in the fireplace, ready to light, and next to it sat an iron circle full of split firewood.This is the perfect place to sit, relax, and read, Nora thought, smiling to herself as she continued to explore the cottage.
A steep set of stairs led to a small simple bedroom on the second floor. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space, alongside a nightstand with a beautiful stained-glass lamp and a small dresser to the right. A nautical blue-and-white striped overstuffed armchair sat next to the only window that looked out over the loch.
Nora walked back downstairs and over to the fireplace. The cottage was a bit chilly, so she decided to start a fire. Grabbing abox of matches off the mantel, she knelt in front of the old stone hearth and struck a match, placing it under the kindling. It fizzled out before igniting anything. She tried again, and then again, her frustration mounting with each failed attempt. She had used all but two matches, and if she didn’t get this lit, she was looking at a very cold night ahead.
“Come on, fire, light,” she said as she pulled both matches out of the box. Her fingers tingled as she doubled them up and struck them against the side of the matchbox together. There was a hiss and then a pop of blue light before it mellowed into a soft yellow flame. Setting the twin flames in a small notch between two logs, the small twigs caught fire below and then spread to the large branches above. She watched as the flames devoured the nest of twigs and branches before setting the larger logs aglow.
Once she was sure the fire would stay lit, she brought her luggage into the kitchen. She took out her journal, notebook, travel guide, and her grandmother’s photo album, placing them on the coffee table in front of the large sofa.
She uncapped her pen, opened her notebook, and began describing her journey to Letterfearn. She wanted to make sure she got it all out before she had forgotten any of the little details. As she wrote, that familiar energy surged through her once more. It was the same sensation she’d felt that first day on the Royal Mile, the same inexplicable pull that had drawn her into the bookshop. She couldn’t place what it was, possibly the excitement of new adventures, or maybe it was just being in Scotland itself that did it. She wondered if this was the feeling of magic her grandmother had always described when talking about this place.
She wrote for a few minutes, put her notebook aside, and walked over to the large windows facing the loch. The thermometer on the outside deck read -3°C, and although she had no ideawhat that equated to in Fahrenheit, she assumed it was somewhere in the single digits.
A shiver ran down her spine, and an uneasy feeling settled over her like a heavy cloak. The twilight and the icy loch brought back memories of the night of the car accident, reminding her of how close she’d come to death. The thoughts of her own demise left her throat dry, and she pushed down the morbid thoughts, trying to quell the anxiety bubbling in her belly.
The flurries turned into a thick haze of snow now, and it seemed to be sticking quite rapidly to everything around it. Through the snowy haze, something in the loch’s center caught her eye. The water churned in large swirling waves as if something beneath was stirring.
She stood transfixed, straining her eyes to see what was in the middle of the loch disturbing the water. She held her breath and watched as a dark shape began to emerge from the loch’s center. The heavy snowfall made it almost impossible to determine what the shape was, but whatever it was, it was quite large. She leaned closer to the window, trying to get a better look. The cold snaked its way through the old windowpanes and caused her to shiver. Her heart began to race as she saw what looked to be a large head atop a long neck crane in her direction. She held her breath as the hairs on the back of her neck rose, when all of a sudden, there was a knock on the door.
Chapter Twenty
The Storm
Her eyes glued to the spot in the loch where she was certain she had just seen something emerge; Nora’s mind spun with tales of loch monsters when the knocking came again. Breaking from her own thoughts enough to remember that she had ordered food, Nora grabbed her wallet out of her bag and went to the door.
Standing there with two large bags of groceries was Stuart.
