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Sad, hurt, confused, anxious, worried, lost, unloved, betrayed, broken-hearted, humiliated, alone, shattered, unlovable, unanchored . . .
Amelia stopped writing and closed her notebook. She could describe herself in far more than just ten words. All this journal exercise was doing was reminding her what a mess her life was.
Chapter Two
The November air was sharp and stung Amelia’s cheeks. She swayed outside on the deck of the ferry, looking to the island in front of her. Nausea bubbled in the pit of her stomach, and she took a deep breath, hoping to stop herself from vomiting. Throwing up en route to her new life wouldn’t exactly be a great start. She gulped in a huge breath of air and the sensation passed. For the first time in weeks, Amelia allowed herself a wry smile. Trust her to forget she was prone to being seasick.
The boat created white foamy trails as it sliced through the dark green waves towards its destination: Arran, a small island in the Firth of Clyde. The sea journey lasted just under an hour — time enough to allow her to feel as though she was escaping. Despite the chill in the air, she had spent most of the crossing outside admiring the stunning scenery. She looked across the water to the Ailsa Craig, a seabird colony, which sat on its own and rose proudly from the water. The island was also where the granite for curling stones came from. Licking the saltwater from her lips, she jumped when the horn blasted. She focused her gaze ahead on Arran, trying to spot the castle. The hills were a patchwork of different shades of green and she could just about make out the slash of yellow beach. The buildings looked like dots. For the twentieth time that day she pinched herself. She couldn’t believe she was really doing this.
Pulling her hat down over her ears, she pushed her hands deep into her coat pockets. She had always wanted to visit Arran as her parents had spent their honeymoon there. In fact, she had harboured dreams to perhaps have her own wedding there. But Declan insisted it would probably rain, the midges would bite all the guests and it was too far away from civilisation.
Looking around she watched an older couple on the other side of the deck, holding hands and admiring the view. Amelia’s rucksack, stuffed with all the possessions she needed, toppled over and banged her foot. She wiped away a tear and reminded herself, again, life wasn’t over. Things had merely taken an unexpected turn.
Covering her mouth, she stifled a yawn. After leaving London at the crack of dawn, she couldn’t quite believe she was nearing the end of the long journey. Her friends all thought she was having some sort of breakdown when she’d announced she was quitting London to go and work on an island she had never been to. Not only that, but in the middle of nowhere and in winter. She’d tried to argue that technically it was still autumn, but her protests had been ignored.
Amelia had spotted the advert for the job online a few weeks after Declan had left.
TOURISM OFFICER WANTED FOR A BRILLIANT PROJECT!
I am looking for a temporary tourism officer to work on a secret new project on the beautiful island of Arran. The job will involve research, copywriting and marketing and a few other things. The successful applicant will be friendly, enthusiastic, open and flexible. They must also have a sense of humour! Pay will depend on experience, however the position also comes with free accommodation. Please email me and tell me why you think you’re the person for the job! [email protected]
Amelia had quickly emailed Edie telling her why she was the perfect person for the job. If she got the job, surely that was a sign it was meant to be? The old Amelia had always believed in serendipity. This job offered a glimmer of hope and at the very least would be a distraction from her broken heart.
‘I can’t believe you’re actually going to do this,’ Suna had said last night as Amelia had finished packing. ‘This is so not you. I mean, an island in the middle of nowhere. Seriously?’
‘I want a change. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go somewhere quiet and have some solitude.’
Suna narrowed her eyes. ‘You could do that in London. You don’t need to go hundreds of miles away. Anyway, how will you cope? You’re a city girl.’
Amelia laughed at her and tried batting away her concerns. ‘I need to give it a go. This is something I must do for me. I need to try and make the most out of a crappy year.’
‘Promise me if it doesn’t work out, you’ll come back?’ Suna said. ‘You’ll always be welcome here.’
‘Thanks.’ Amelia looked around Suna’s tiny bedroom, which had doubled as her room too for the past few nights. She hoped she wouldn’t have to return with her tail between her legs and sleep on this floor again. This was meant to be all about positive thinking, new adventures and a fresh start.
As the ferry neared the harbour, Amelia began to wonder if she had made the right decision. It was freezing, growing dark, and she pulled up her hood as fat raindrops started to fall on her head. Hauling her bag onto her shoulders, she joined the line of passengers waiting to disembark.
She wasn’t sure if it was the smell of diesel or her nerves making her feel sick again. Her new employer, Edie McMillan, had promised to collect her off the boat and Amelia prayed she would be waiting. Edie had ‘interviewed’ her over the phone, a loose description of what had ended up being an informal conversation about everything and anything including the island’s historic buildings. Amelia was still unsure what the actual job entailed as Edie hadn’t got down to specifics, other than to mention that she would be tasked with bringing more visitors to a specific tourist site, which she’d assumed was the castle. When she’d told Edie about her parents’ connection with Arran, and that they had spent their honeymoon there, Edie had decided Amelia was perfect for the job. Especially when she’d heard about her work background.
Amelia had asked how many people had applied for the role, but Edie had remained vague and changed the subject. Amelia wondered if she should have asked more questions before uprooting herself and coming all this way. But it was too late now.
A gust of wind blew her hood down as she stepped off the gangplank and searched for Edie. As she waited by the bus stop as agreed, she felt very alone. So much for the new life she’d planned. Her friends were right: she was clearly having some kind of breakdown. With a sigh she pulled out her mobile, squinting to find out if she had reception. Edging nearer the car park, she was almost blinded by the approaching headlights of a van, which sailed through a massive puddle and drenched her.
She gasped, not quite believing it, but also totally believing it. Both her gasp and muttered, ‘Brilliant,’ were swallowed by the wind. She was now soaked, cross and ready to take the ferry back to the mainland. Why on earth had she thought this was a sensible plan?
‘I’msosorry,’ said a voice behind her. ‘I didn’t see you.’
She turned around to see a man with an apologetic expression on his face.
‘Are you the guy who just soaked me?’
‘Yes. That was me. I totally didn’t mean to do that.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘at least you’re apologising.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s the least I can do.’ His wet hair glistened and the rainwater ran off his jacket in huge droplets.
She bit her lip in case she said something she regretted. Having a tantrum was not the best idea, given she had been on the island for less than ten minutes.
