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Willow and Hayley clutched bus schedules in their hands. Willow had made arrangements to stay in the general Inverness area but in a youth hostel. Hayley was headed south for a village on the shores of Loch Ness.
Suddenly, emotion closed my throat.
Hayley voiced the words I didn’t speak. “Be safe,” she said.
Willow nodded. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
My cab pulled up at the curb. I gave the driver a grateful smile as he loaded my bags into the trunk. When it was time to step into the car, I hesitated. Glancing over my shoulder, I took one last look at my friends. “Remember Claire,” I said. “Be brave.” Because I was on the verge of stupid, sentimental tears, I got in the car and gave the driver the go-ahead.
As the vehicle started to move off down the street, I twisted in my seat and peered out the back windshield.
While I watched, a bus pulled up in front of the hotel. I saw Willow pick up her backpack and suitcase and hug Hayley. By the time she boarded, my cab turned a corner and I lost sight of the hotel entirely.
A fluttery sense of panic engulfed me. How could I leave dear Hayley all alone? I tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Would you mind to go back around the block?” I asked. “I want to make sure my friend gets picked up.”
The man nodded, unfazed, as if accustomed to the eccentricities of tourists. By the time we made it back to the hotel, no one stood in the street. In the distance, a different bus, not Willow’s, trundled down the pavement.
“Okay,” I said. “I guess everything’s fine.”
I sat back in my seat, feeling a definite sense of anticlimax. From here on out, I was on my own. I was counting on Scotland to entertain and inspire me. Anything else would be gravy.
