Page 8 of The Cottage in the Highlands

Thanks to the myriad of blue, yellow, and vanilla painted walls through my home, Sea Shell Cottage had been transformed.

I glanced up at the sky. Even though patches of stubborn cloud sat there, I knew I had to get away for a bit. “Let’s jump in the car and go a bit further afield, shall we?”

Harley trotted by my side and sat there whilst I ensconced her in her car seat. Without even deciding where we were headed, we took off out of Silver Ness.

Fields soon emerged to the right, the tall grass stirring like exotic dancers. I glanced out of the window. I had to try and think positively. I possessed all that experience from my days working at the advertising agency, plus my freelance credentials. That was without the two years reporting for The Silver Ness News.

Then there was my journalism degree from university.

The clouds were giving way to pools of sleepy sunshine as we carried on up a country lane, passing cotton-wool dollops of sheep, huddled together to keep warm. Winter was not far off.

There was another patchwork of fields and a pretty tangle of woodland. The trees were dispensing their leaves now. They rocked to the woodland floor, like dainty amber and claret boats on a tide. I was also concerned about Harley’s bladder, so decided now would be a good time to stop.

The next town – Drummond – was just a little further on, but this area – halfway between there and Silver Ness – would be perfect for Harley’s walk. Ironic that was the place that was in effect taking over The Silver Ness News for this title amalgamation.

I parked up in a deserted picnic-bay and Harley leapt out once I’d secured her lead.

No sooner had we moved away from the car than Harley began to pull on the lead. “Harley, wait up!”

She gazed up at me out of chocolate eyes, her tongue flapping.

“Yes, madam, I’m talking to you.”

We set off again, me attempting a brisk pace to keep up with her. She was desperate to take a run in the fields.

I ordered her to sit and she plonked herself down in front of me. “Right, young lady.” I rooted around in my jeans pocket and located my dog whistle. “I will let you off-lead, but don’t forget that when I do this…” I gave the whistle a hearty blast. “And you come straight back for one of these, ok?”

I fetched a pack of dog treats from the other pocket and her eyes grew.

Mum and Dad said her recall had been coming on well during the week, and the last couple of weekends when I had taken her to the park, she had bounded back towards me whenever I gave a blow of the whistle. I think the allure of more peanut butter and banana treats was the deciding factor.

I gazed around the field, rippling under the sleepy sun, which was definitely beginning to subside in the sky. At this time of year in Scotland it was dark by around seven o’clock. “Ok. Have fun. I’ll call you back in a few seconds, so be ready.”

I unclipped Harley’s lead and she let out a thrilled little bark of freedom. I laughed, watching her podgy bottom disappear into the grass. I followed on behind her, listening to her weaving her way.

Filling my lungs with the zesty woodland air was soothing. I had never brought Harley here before but I strode on, catching sight of her fluffy tail whipping from side to side amongst the grass.

I embraced the rhythmic stride of my walking boots. Out here, it felt like, even for a short time, my worries about my job situation could float away.

Images of my first day at the paper, all keen and anxious to please; the tatty Christmas decorations Doug had strung up in the newsroom before I insisted on going shopping to replace them; seeing my first by-line rippling across the front page; the teasing Frances and I would do of Doug’s loud shirts… It all merged into a huge, emotional ball in my throat.

I swallowed and closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sleepy, chilled sunshine flit across my face. Think positive.

The sky was beginning to deepen into a delicious raspberry ripple. I glanced down at my watch. “Ok, Harley. Come on girl. Time to go.” I raised the dangling whistle around my neck and gave it a short, sharp blow, expecting her to come bounding back to me.

Harley didn’t appear.

I blew the whistle again. Still nothing.

An icy, cold panic seized me. I started to stride off, my eyes scanning the distance. “Harley! Where are you? Harley!”

I picked up my steps and blasted the whistle again. I could feel the silvery taste. Harley was nowhere to be seen.

Oh God. Where was she? Had she hurt herself or fallen down a rabbit hole? I shouldn’t have let her off-lead in here. What was I thinking?! What a week it had been!

I gulped a ball of worry. No. Stop panicking. She couldn’t have gone far. It wasn’t that long ago that her tail was bobbing ahead of me.

I snatched up the whistle and gave it another fierce prolonged shriek. “Harley! Come here!”