Page 88 of Duke It Out
“I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not gritting my teeth and smiling politely. You know what you did. I don’t know why you did it, but I’m not taking your shit anymore.”
I look out of the window. We’re coming to the crossroads – the one I remember from my first drive up to the estate, about half an hour from the castle. If we turn left, we head to the road for Inverness and on to the airport.
“Pull over,” I say, tapping Jamie on the shoulder.
He half turns, frowning. “What?”
“Stop the car.”
Anna turns around, confused. “Ede? What the hell are you doing?”
But I’ve already unclipped my seatbelt. My hands are shaking but my voice is steady.
“I’m not going back.”
“Back where?” Jamie asks.
“To London. To the flat. To ghost-writing books abouthouseplant maintenance and writing bullshit copy for pet insurance.” I open the door and drag my rucksack out behind me.
Anna rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so bloody ridiculous. What are you going to do, walk?”
“If I have to.”
Jamie’s opened the boot. He lifts out my case and passes it to me with a bemused expression. “Are you sure about this?”
I nod, grabbing the handle.
“I love it here,” I say, simply. “I love it too much to leave. I ran away from Scotland because I didn’t have anything to keep me here – no family, no ties. But it turns out that the place is enough. I’m not going to pretend this didn’t matter.”
Anna huffs. “He’s not interested in you, I’ve told you that.”
Jamie looks from her to me, clearly confused.
“This is about me.”
Her mouth twists in a little smirk. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Maybe,” I say, stepping onto the grass verge. “But at least it’smymistake.”
Anna looks at her watch. “If we don’t get a move on we’re going to miss the flight, and I really do not want a night in a Travelodge in Inverness.”
“Go right ahead.”
Jamie watches as I slam shut the passenger door. There’s something in his expression I can’t quite read – maybe it’s respect, or it might just be pity. I don’t know, and I don’t care.
He gives me a final searching look. “You sure about this?”
“Absolutely.”
The Defender pulls away. I stand there alone at the edge of the Highlands, wind in my face and my bag over my shoulder. I’m more alone than I’ve been in a very long time.
But I’m not lost. Not yet.
I forgotthat there’s no mobile coverage out here on the moorland. Two hours have passed and with no Google Maps, I’ve had to take a guess at the direction of Loch Morven village. My feet are killing me, my boots are soaked, and my shoulders ache from dragging my bag, which doesn’t have all-terrain wheels.
It started raining twenty minutes ago. It was the romantic misty kind to start, and the clouds even broke for long enough that a rainbow appeared over the forest as a portent of hope. But now it’s the full-on sideways kind. If this is a sign from the universe, it’s not looking good. I haven’t seen a single car since the crossroads, only sheep and from the look on their faces, they’re judging my life choices even more than Anna was.
But I keep walking. As miserable as this is, it’s less awful than sitting next to Anna as she tells me with delight how much she hates the aristocracy and everything they stand for, after taking advantage of their hospitality for the last week without so much as a thank you.
