Chapter Ten
Eventually, she arrived at Inverkeshen, a busy little town that seemed to stock all the essentials, but little of what she needed for her new workroom.
She parked in a parking bay that ran down the middle of the high street. Popping into various shops, she bought maps and walking shoes, warm clothes and big coats. Each time throwing her next set of bags in the car as she then dashed off to another shop. She loved this town; all the shops were so friendly and each shopkeeper seemed to really know their stock. The cobbles by the car were a bit tricky to navigate in her red suede stiletto boots though. They clearly weren’t practical but they were her absolute pick-me-up boots and went perfectly with her sky blue bobble hat. Well they didn’t, but if anyone could drag an outfit together by sheer force of personality it was Clem.
Finally, she headed over to the supermarket and stocked up on necessities. Back home, the shops were full of spring wear and ideas for the summer holidays. Here, they appeared to still be in the midst of winter. Looking at her shopping, she wondered if she might have gone a bit mad with the bank card. Becoming wealthy had made shopping an absolute joy, but then she decided to give herself a break. Ari wouldn’t begrudge her an electric blanket and as far as Clem was concerned the Gaggia coffee maker was an essential purchase. In fact, she’d been pleasantly surprised by the range of stuff in the supermarket, which made sense in such an isolated location, but it didn’t have everything. Sitting in the carpark, she pulled out her phone and placed a list of orders online. She knew the minute she had seen those deer yesterday that she was staying. The ballroom this morning was the final confirmation. She didn’t know how long for, but long enough to need her work relocated up to Scotland. Just as she started the car, a shadow fell across the carpark and Clem looked up, surprised by the speed with which the sun had disappeared. When she had entered the supermarket, there had been the odd cloud in the sky; when she had left, there was more cloud than blue. Now, looking around there was no blue at all. Concerned, she headed out of town and as soon as she left the town she put her foot down.
***
The snow was beginning to fall heavily now and Clem’s headlamps were beginning to struggle to pick out the road. According to the satnav she was nearly home when a sheep ran out in front of her. She slammed on the brakes. Thankfully, she was travelling so slowly she could brake easily, but the sheep seemed to have greater problems and appeared to skid off the side of the road and disappear. Concerned, Clem stopped the car and went to investigate. The animal was struggling in a ditch and appeared to have become entangled in something. She grabbed hold of its fleece in an attempt to haul it out. However, the sheep had other ideas and scrambled to free itself from her hands. The movement jolted Clem and suddenly she slipped and fell into the ditch with the sheep now resting on top of her.
Swearing loudly, she attempted to wriggle free, but the sheep now seemed resigned to its fate and had settled down to await an inevitable death. Clem was less acquiescent. There were twigs sticking into her, she couldn’t move and the weight of the animal was uncomfortable. She was in an awkward position with the sheep lying on her chest and her legs in the air above her. The smell of the animal was pervasive and she was surprised by just how much it smelt like a wet blanket.
The one saving grace was that she wasn’t cold; her blanket may smell, it may be greasy but it was beautifully warm. More snow fell and Clemmie realised that she was in a proper pickle. The snow began to pile up, and she could see that she and the sheep were slowly being buried. Her legs were useless but she kept poking and pulling at the sheep who now appeared to be fast asleep. This was ridiculous; if she had ever imagined how she was going to die it wouldn’t be trapped by a sheep in a snowdrift. Had anyone ever died that way? At least she’d be unique.
Just as she was gearing up for another attempt to get free, she heard a car engine. Surely there was only this road? The driver would stop to investigate an abandoned car. Within seconds, the engine stopped and as a car door slammed shut, she began to holler as loudly as she could. Her voice sounded weird through the muffling of the snow, and the fact that she had a sheep sitting on top of her chest.
A deep voice called out a greeting and Clem almost wept with relief.
‘Hello. I’m in the ditch. Under the sheep. I wonder, could you help?’ and then she laughed, trust her to go all Ari in a crisis. Her big sister was always perfect at understatement and calm. She couldn’t wait to tell her that in her greatest crisis she had channelled her.
The voice called out again.
‘I can’t see you, or a sheep, keep talking.’
The voice was warm and resonant with a soft lilt to it and Clem wondered idly if he was as gorgeous looking as his voice. That would be quite the adventure, swept off her feet by a sheep and rescued by a highland heartthrob. She giggled and then started singing ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ and then wheezed a bit. Really, this sheep was very heavy. Suddenly the pressure moved and the sheep was hauled up.
‘Bugger, his leg’s broken. How are you doing?’
Clem started to scramble up the side of the ditch. Her lovely leather-soled boots barely able to grip the sides. She watched as the man lifted the sheep and placed him in the back of his jeep’s trailer. He was tall and broad and from his physique Clem guessed he was young. Having secured the sheep, he looked over his shoulder, back to where Clem was busily trying to tidy her hair and pat the snow off her clothes.
‘Now then, miss, are you okay?’
Clem stopped patting down her clothes and looked up and had to stop herself recoiling. She was staring at a yeti. That beard was awful. His hair seemed to blend into a huge beard and moustache. What was he thinking? Being a hipster was one thing but at least they were groomed and nicely dressed. This guy seemed to be modelling himself on Grizzly Adams. His wax jacket was ripped in places, and a dark pair of cords was tucked into a pair of scabby wellies. She had no idea as to his age, maybe in his thirties, maybe sixties who the hell could tell under all that hair.
‘Did you hear me? Where are you heading to?’
When Clem said Ruacoddy Castle, he looked at her curiously.
‘You won’t make it. Follow me. Closest shelter is the pub. If we don’t make it, we’ll have to sleep with the sheep.’
Clem laughed shakily. ‘Well he’s warm, I guess. Can his leg be fixed?’
The man shrugged. ‘Up to the owner, I guess. We’ll splint it when we get to the pub. Sheep know a thousand ways to die. I’m amazed any of them make it to the plate.’
Clem tried to point out that they were dead when they got to the plate, but he just raised his eyebrow and said it was a joke. Pausing, he looked her up and down.
‘I think you should ride with me. We can pick up your car tomorrow.’
Not a hope in hell, thought Clem. No way was she getting in some strange old man’s car, and she tottered over to her car and clambered up and slammed on the heater, trying to stop the shakes in her body and her chattering teeth. She began to think what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived. Maybe she was as stupid as a sheep, finding new and inventive ways to die. Maybe she should have accepted a lift from him. She was finding it hard to concentrate on his taillights and for the love of her, she couldn’t get warm. Two days ago standing up on the hills by those stones she had felt at home. Now she was cold and lost and following a stranger to God knows where.