Page 9 of A Scottish Country Escape

Mrs Carlucci had nodded good day to a gentleman in a flat cap and I was jangling the shop keys in my hand, ready to unlock the door. I had only just eased it open and was remarking to Cate about possible new names for the shop, when a grinding noise erupted behind us.

I spun round. ‘What the hell was that?’

But Cate was already marching away from me, gesticulating wildly. ‘This is a pedestrianised area, you prick!’

My jaw dropped open at the sight of a smoky-grey Jaguar F-type charging along the cobbles. The windows were blacked out, so it was impossible to make out who was driving.

I waved my arms in the air. ‘Sorry, you can’t come down here. No traffic allowed.’

But whoever was driving either couldn’t see me or had decided to ignore what I was saying.

The car kept coming.

‘What the hell?! Stop! You can’t drive down here!’

But the car continued to move at speed, the milky sunshine glancing off its bodywork.

Everything felt like it was moving through treacle.

Pictures of Mum and Dad, driving along in their car, marvelling at the majestic Highland scenery, lodged themselves behind my eyes.

Panic and burning anger fired up inside of me as I watched the car continue to move.

Something made a strangulated noise from somewhere close by and I jerked my head round.

I realised that the terrified noise had come from Mrs Carlucci. She was rooted to the cobbles just a few feet away from me, her hooded green eyes wide and unblinking as the growling car squealed towards her in a raging spin of tyres.

Oh shit! The car was going to hit her!

Chapter Six

Without thinking, I lunged to the right and threw both my arms out, grabbing her and bundling her against me. Shocked, Mrs Carlucci let out a cross between a cry and a moan, as she recoiled back against my chest. We both tumbled to the ground.

There was a rush of air hissing out of my throat as my back and bottom connected with the cobbles. Shit! That hurt. I let out a groan of pain.

Mrs Carlucci was now sprawled on top of me, all thick black tights and battered straw hat barely clinging to her head. Her posies of heather lay scattered around us.

From where I was lying in a crumpled heap, I could hear Cate’s frightened screams rising into the air. ‘Jesus! Elle! Mrs Carlucci! Are you both OK?’

When we both groaned, Cate turned her ire on the car and faceless driver. ‘You utter prick! You could have killed them!’

Mrs Carlucci struggled to her feet and stretched out her hand to help me up too, still wild-eyed and pale as she stared at the fast car. She couldn’t pull her attention away.

The car engine had now died and the vehicle was sitting at an angle, casting a dark shadow across the cobbles of the main street.

Its glinting bonnet was facing the three of us, but the doors remained closed, concealing whoever was driving behind its blacked-out windows. It was unnerving that they could see us but we couldn’t see them.

I smoothed back stray hairs which were clinging to my hot, flushed cheeks. Shock and surprise were giving way to fury and relief.

‘What the hell did you think you were doing? You can’t drive down here!’ My voice was quivering as I dusted down the front of my old denims. ‘What’s the matter with you? Can’t you read the signs? You could have killed us!’

Cate and I delivered the full force of our death stares upon the vehicle, with its huge tar-black wheels that reminded me of spiders’ webs with their fancy silver trims. Mrs Carlucci was white and shaking. She stood rigid beside me.

I reached out one trembling hand and patted her arm to reassure her.

Was the coward going to get out of the car and apologise? Who the hell was driving this thing? Didn’t they realise the power of a car?

There was a pause before the driver side door of the stranger’s vehicle finally eased open with a decadent whoosh and two long legs emerged.