Page 5 of On The Edge

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Cat had never thought she would be using so many forms of transport to get to her dream destination. As a non-driver, and living in a city, she had never really needed a car. But the epic journey she was undertaking made her realise the perks of being able to drive.

“One step at a time” she said soothingly to herself, feeling her old friend anxiety trickling in at the thought of learning a daunting new skill.

She had bundled all her belongings into two big suitcases that she carted behind her, with a great deal of huffing and puffing. The rest of her things had been given to charity, or to Dave; perhaps the same thing, she thought wryly. She had given away clothes, furniture and a ridiculous number of jewellery boxes which she had collected over the years. She never could quite remember how her jewellery box addiction had started, but once it was out of her hands, and rolling away in the charity pick-up van, she had been glad to get rid of it all. She made a mental note to herself never to purchase any more pointless pieces of junk, ever again. Clutter in the house, is clutter on the mind! Even the huge box of home décor from Dave’s mum was given to a very happy Shelley, who had trawled excitedly through each item with glee on Cat’s last day at work. After that day she had picked up the travel magazine, she did not go back in until the next day, collecting her things in one fell swoop, saying goodbye to a few people, and leaving within the hour. She couldn’t believe the lack of attachment she had for the place. Even Adam came over and hugged her goodbye, and she had felt sorry for all the stress they were all going to endure; nobody deserves their job being snatched from them. But Cat finally knew that she would rather make her own way, and take her own chances, than wait to be told what her future would be. She felt rather proud of herself for all her organisation, and her sense of adventure, and she decided to focus on those traits, rather than her being utterly reckless in running away from the life she had in Glasgow to live in the far-flung unknown.

After a jerky taxi ride, she packed her suitcases safely on the bus, and instantly began to feel lighter, as if a heavy blanket over her shoulders had slipped off. The bus was fairly quiet so she stretched out, popped on her headphones and took in the view. Hours passed with gentle classical music in her ears, but this time instead of city lights, it was hills and lochs that drifted by and after a few hours the bus was threading the winding road on the edge of Loch Ness. Cat looked over the dark murky waters, examining every inch her eyes could cover. The child in her looked for a creature, any creature; maybe the secret of Loch Ness was a giant basking shark or giant eel? Suddenly an image of her mum came to her. She hadn’t really thought of her mother as such, just the usual stabbing pain in her heart which she suppressed, and she quickly willed herself to think of something else. But the vivid memory of her mum tucking her into bed and reading her a book about the Loch Ness monster and a boy who became its friend surfaced again. She remembered a cracked spine, with a beautiful coloured drawing of the green monster smiling down at a red-haired boy in a kilt.

“Mum, does every boy wear a kilt in Scotland?” she had once asked.

“Well no, but maybe in the highlands more people wear them. My dad often wore a kilt as a boy. So much so that his nickname was ‘Kilty!’” Cat remembered finding this very funny and they had both shared a giggle. The memory burned and a tear rolled down Cat’s cheek as the bus left the dark waters and all its secrets.

Once in Inverness, she dragged her giant suitcases to the next point of call; luckily the train station was beside the bus station, else she would have arrived in a disgusting pool of her own sweat. With only five minutes until her train was due to leave, she couldn’t believe her luck, she was just in time. She ran onto the first carriage, and with a little help from a kind train assistant, she got the bulky suitcases on and plonked herself on a seat beside the window. As the train started on its way, she saw the small city of Inverness with its Victorian stone houses fade away and every so often along the way a fishing village or town would appear. Cat marvelled at the beautiful blue sky, which stretched out over the distant sea ahead, and the fields upon fields of promising freedom.

“You've reached Thurso, this is the last stop,” came a voice in the distance.

“What?” Cat muttered sleepily to herself and opened her eyes to a big white bearded man with stern blue eyes.

“Time to get off lass, this is the last stop!”

“Am I in Orkney yet?” Cat pleaded in a tired quiet tone.

“Orkney? No no, you have a bit of time before the ferry leaves for the island!”

Cat felt so exhausted from her traveling, her face must have showed her emotions, as the old man’s look changed to one of sympathy.

“I might suggest, Miss, that you go into Thurso town and get yourself a cuppa before you take the ferry. It can be a bit rough towards the end, so make sure you get some food and tea in you”. The conductor nodded wisely, and helped her off the train with her suitcases. Cat looked at her travel schedule; the sheets of crumpled paper she kept tucked in her handbag showed that she had two hours before the ferry was to leave. She took the conductor’s advice and walked into the town of Thurso. She stayed on the straight walk path, and saw the town ahead, which compared to Glasgow looked like a tiny village. The weather had now changed to heavy clouds, and Cat thought of the blue skies and outstretched fields she had left on the east coast. The grey-stone buildings that lined the pathway looked grand, a little like those of Inverness. The odd car passed her by, but other than that Cat saw nobody. She strolled past a church and a school, yet everything was quiet. Was it a Sunday? Cat had heard that some Scottish islands closed everything on the Sabbath, and stayed inside. But this was a Wednesday, and not an island? Cat continued on confused, dragging her suitcases behind her until she came upon a little café on the corner of a Victorian terrace. Baskets of brightly-coloured flowers hung on either side of the door, with more pots on the windowsills, making a welcome sight. Cat opened the door and was shocked. So many people were in this large café that Cat thought the whole town must be taking the conductor’s advice.

Munching on a scone over a large cup of steaming tea, Cat loosened her shoulders and began to relax her mind, taking in the paintings that hung on the walls. But a voice sounded in the back of her mind, and that old feeling came back to her. What am I doing? Why did I leave my job, my boyfriend? My life? What do I think will happen here? Why Orkney? This is going to be a terrible mistake and I’ll end up asking Dave to take me back in the end... The anxiety was starting, that feeling began to slowly and ever so gently take hold. Her breathing quickened. I don’t know anybody here. I’m alone.

“Are you finished?”

“What?” Cat looked up startled.

A plump woman in her fifties with a tea towel on one shoulder, smiled briskly before asking again. “All done? Another cup of tea?” She looked down at Cat’s empty cup.

“Oh no thanks, I better be going soon. It’s very busy in here, is that usual?”

“The woman looked around and laughed “Oh yes, we have a bit of a clash on Wednesdays, the church committee and the council come in here for their meetings!” She picked up Cat’s cup and saucer, “but we don’t complain, customers are customers!”

Cat smiled. “I also couldn’t help but notice the beautiful paintings. Are they all by the same artist?”

The woman looked to where Cat had indicated; her dark hair was scraped back into a neat bun, and was greying. Her face warmed.

“They surely are, they are my daughter’s! They are beautiful aren’t they?” Her face shone with pride, the way Cat’s mother’s once had.

“You have a talented daughter!”

“Thank you, you’re very kind. You’re not from here are you?”

“Nope, I just arrived. I’m on my way to Orkney to…live...” Cat hesitated with the last word, feeling that there were so many as-yet unknown meanings within it.

“What an adventure!” The woman said in excited hushed tones. “My Jessie lives there, the one whose work you're admiring!” She waved in the direction of canvases on the wall. “She’s about your age, I can give you her contact details if you don’t know anyone on the island?” She grabbed a pen and pad from her apron pocket and began to write. Cat hesitated a little, thinking she didn’t want to bother some girl whose mother was giving out her details on her behalf.

“Thank you,” Cat said shyly, “I don’t know anyone actually, so this is very nice of you.” She didn’t know what else to say, but was touched, despite the awkwardness.

“Are you an artist too?” the woman inquired.