He made shooing motions. “Now, run along. Don’t worry a bit.”
I did what I was told.
Halfway down the hall, I spied a final Dixie cup beside a thin trail of juice. Marveling at my ability to maximize a mess, I scooped it up and ran back to add it to the pile I’d given the nurse earlier. Just as I was about to step into the ward, though, I caught sight of him standing at Gerald’s bedside, holding his hand.
Not to be confused with taking his pulse.
I couldn’t hear their voices, but their heads were together in close conversation. I dropped the stray cup into a nearby trashcan and tiptoed away from the door. Where I came from, fraternizing with patients was a firing offence, but the look on Gerald’s face made me happy to keep anything I had seen strictly to myself.
March 19, 4 pm
North along Loch Ness
Notes to self, since even though there is Wi-Fi on this bus, I can no longer use it as I haven’t a laptop. Thank you, Susan.
1. Remember to check email to see if Jack connected re his ankle.
2. After circle, find Internet cafe to put up blog post
3. Think about getting a JOB
4. Keep eye out for Monster!!!
I’d run out of the hospital without further incident and had made it to the bus stop just as the bus was pulling up. I felt sad about missing Jack—or at least not having a chance to say good-bye. Our shared experience at the ruined castle made me feel something of a bond with him. A fellow writer, anyway.
I sighed. He would have made a most excellent Jamie-contender, apart from the whole ‘Rebecca’ problem. I remembered the solemn—if somewhat drunken—pinky-swear with Jazmin after the Egon heartbreak—I would be no-one’s Tiffany. NEVER that.
As the bus jogged alongside the waters of Loch Ness, I pushed all thoughts of Jack the writer aside and thought instead about Gerald. He was definitely looking stronger. I wondered if that had anything to do with Nurse Goodfield. And that he was still reading my blog made me happy, too.
The irony of having—apart from my small but faithful overseas contingent—two men as followers of the blog was not lost on me. Maybe chivalry is not dead after all? Or perhaps I just needed to consider being less sexist, myself.
Besides, Gerald was likely only reading to see if my luck at the second stone circle would be better than his. I had to admit, the thought of chasing down another deserted monument was beginning to wear on me, but I had promised and besides, the bus I was riding was headed there, anyway. I vowed to make future plans more Fraser-focused.
With the note-taking and scanning the waters for Nessie, it seemed like no time at all before the driver announced my stop. I stepped off the bus at Drumnadrochit just after five in the afternoon. The bus station was not really much more than a pole on the street, near a small hotel. I’d hoped to pick up a cab at the station, since according to Gerald’s map, the stone circle was still about a twenty minute drive away, but as the bus pulled out, there was no line of cabs waiting to meet it.
Not even a single cab.
It had begun to rain lightly, anyhow, so I found myself a small hostel room and lay down to sort out my plans.
I woke at ten the next morning with my copy of OUTLANDER on the pillow. Turned out I had slept on the map. A hint of purple ink traced across one cheekbone as I gazed in the mirror while I brushed my teeth.
Clearly, all the travel had begun to catch up with me. But I knew it couldn’t last—I’d have to return to the city and find a job, very soon.
I had a cup of tea while the hostel supervisor banged dishes together in the kitchen, and then headed out toward the bus station to see if I had better luck locating a cab than I had the night before.
Down the street I found a little parking sign with a taxi symbol on it, and planted myself there. If there was a cab to be hailed, I was going to be the one to hail it.
An hour later, not a single taxi had passed.
Not a single car had passed, as a matter of fact. My stomach rumbled and I began to think about finding something to eat. But what if the cab came when I left my spot?
Finally, after another twenty minutes, I spied a lady walking her dog. She smiled at me warmly when I stepped forward.
“Ach, no love—we do have a local taxi-driver, but last I heard his transmission needed an overhaul. We migh’ try callin’ up tae Inverness, but it’ll be a fair wait, I’m sorry to say.”
I must have looked disappointed, as she reached out and patted my arm fondly. “Where’re ye off to, pet? Here to see family?”
“No, not exactly. I’m looking for—well, I’m looking for this.” I held out the very-creased map to her.
She switched the leash to her other hand and pulled on a pair of glasses that had been dangling around her neck on a chain. After a moment, she glanced up at me over the rims.