Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Its sentimental, romantic aura gave way to the Borders, with its quaint little bridges, farmland, cute towns and ragged skyline.
We appreciated the fairytale beauty of Stirling Castle, perched on top of a rocky outface. The green trees reminded me of clumps of broccoli, enhancing the rise and fall of the castle above it.
Then there was the imposing Wallace Monument, gold edged in the sunlight, as it soared like a solid, frilly needle into the sky.
The M80 soon vanished in Marlene’s rear-view mirror, leading us through Perth, with its shining River Tay, clusters of shops and sprinkling of woodland walks and museums.
We glided past the town of Dunkeld, with its pretty string of pastel houses built in the 1700s and now restored by the National Trust for Scotland. No wonder it was known as the best-preserved historic town in the country.
Pitlochry came next; it was one of my favourite Scottish towns to visit. I loved meandering around its scenic little town, strolling past the River Tummel and drinking in its rich history.
If I’d been alone, I’d have parked up and taken myself for a wander, indulged in a coconut and cherry scone in one of its sweet little cafes and watched the tourists exclaim in delight at the allure of the all-year-round Christmas shop on the high street.
But with Evan accompanying me, I thought it best just to get him to his family home and then head to Strath Ross as soon as I could.
The prospect of being back in Strath Ross, surrounded by its rich, Celtic echoes of the past, and traipsing over its humpbacked bridge to the shops, made my heart lift.
Evan and I exchanged small talk on the last leg of the journey, in between him dozing off in fits and starts.
I found myself snatching more and more opportunities whenever I could to study his strong profile when he was asleep. It was the way his nose glided down to meet his full lips, and that lock of stubborn, dark hair that would tumble forwards onto his forehead.
I gave myself a mental check and turned back to the road.
No! I was walking a tightrope here, and it would be so easy to fall off.
Remember Leon, Daisy. Remember Leon. Evan is nice to look at, but he’s cut from the same cloth, I assured myself.
Don’t even think about opening up your heart to more hurt.
Tourists and day trippers were clogging up Aviemore. People were making the most of the gorgeous spring weather, walking, biking and climbing.
Evan had stirred and was arching his back in the passenger seat.
‘How come you were at the birthday lunch yesterday?’ I asked him.
The scenery slipping past us was lush forests tickled by snow-powdered Cairngorms as its backdrop. Aviemore was known as an ideal location for sailing, windsurfing, stand up paddleboarding, kayaking, canoeing and mountain biking.
‘I know Monty through his local rugby club.’
‘You play?’ I asked, glancing away from his sinewy arms.
‘I used to. I’m more of a gym bunny nowadays.’
I can see that, teased a flirty voice in my head. I got frustrated with myself and straightened my back as I gripped the wheel.
We left its sparkling shores and pushed onwards. Evan slipped into another light sleep.
Tourist signs for Strath Ross and Forrest Bank loomed ahead. As I slowed to a stop at a set of lights, Evan woke up. He propped himself up in the passenger seat. ‘Sorry. Was up late finishing a piece I was commissioned to write for The Recorder.’
‘Anything juicy?’
I angled the steering wheel and pulled away from the lights.
‘A feature about the minimum wage and how it impacts people who are trying to break into the creative industries.’
‘Well, that’s great. At least you’re writing about something that helps people. It’s positive, you know?’
More trees slid past my driver side window.
Evan turned his attention to the country lane. ‘You can just drop me off on the next right.’
I clicked the indicator and eased Marlene around the corner.
The hedgerows were bursting with white and lemon buds.
I was so busy appreciating the delicate prettiness of them and the heady waft of the scented air that I almost didn’t see a couple of police officers in the middle of the lane a short distance away. I slammed on the brake and instinctively threw my left arm out to protect Evan.
I apologised. ‘Sorry about that. Blimey. What’s going on here?’
There was a police van parked on the verge and several officers stationed further along.
One of the policemen, who had a short, clipped, blond beard, came striding up towards the car.
I wound down my driver side window. ‘Where are you supposed to be heading to, Miss?’ His accent was lilting and sing-song Scottish, like mine.
‘I’m just about to drop off this gent at his family’s house just up the lane there and then head on to Strath Ross.’
The officer gave his head a slow shake. ‘You’re fine to drop off your friend if it’s just up that side road. But as for heading onto Strath Ross, I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.’
I blinked up at him in confusion. ‘Sorry?’
The officer threw out one arm and indicated further up the sun-spilt lane. The fields shone like waggling, gold fingers. ‘There’s been a serious incident, Miss. You can’t reach Strath Ross at the moment.’
I stared up at the police officer, who was squinting down at me from under his cap. ‘But why? What’s happened? My elderly grandfather’s expecting me.’
The policeman sighed. ‘I’m sorry. But this is a serious situation, and we’ve had to close the road from Loch Crawe to Strath Ross.’
I twisted round to look across at Evan. This was crazy!
What the hell was going on? Nothing ever happened in these parts, and we were all grateful for it.
The worst situation would be some flooding or a wild forest fire, which would be under control in no time.
The sight of these police officers and the police van made me think it was more than some bonfire.
Evan stooped lower in his seat to speak to the police officer. His face broke into a smile of recognition. ‘Hey! Karl. How are you?’
The police officer took a moment to study Evan’s face. His eyes widened. ‘Evan Lord! Bloody hell! What are you doing back in the sticks? Had enough of the city types?’
‘I’m up visiting my folks. How’s Roxy and the kids?’
‘Great, thanks. Starting to get a bit more sleep now that Elliott is sleeping through the night.’
Evan pointed through the windscreen. ‘What’s going on, Karl? Any clues?’
Karl rolled his eyes. ‘You can take Forrest Bank out of the journalist but you can’t take the journalist out of Forrest Bank.’
Evan craned his neck. ‘Hold on. Isn’t that Sacha?’
I followed Evan’s attention. A woman had appeared out of nowhere and was brandishing her mobile and a notebook.
She had tousled, strawberry blonde hair skimming her shoulders and was dressed in black cropped trousers, a red strappy top and trainers.
She was flitting from police officer to police officer, talking to them and scribbling notes down.
I noticed a change in Evan. His expression was guarded.
‘Do you know her?’ I asked him.
‘Yes. Her name’s Sacha Nicholson,’ he answered. ‘She’s a journalist with Highland News Radio.’
‘And?’ pushed Karl in a teasing voice.
My attention swept from Karl to Evan and back again.
‘And nothing,’ replied Evan, sinking back against the passenger seat.
Karl raised his brows at me.
Hmmm. I wonder what that meant.
‘Anyway, you were asking what was going on.’ Karl looked towards his colleagues. ‘We’re waiting on the arrival of a military expert from Inverness.’
‘Military expert?’ I repeated.
Karl nodded.
‘A chap out with his little grandson walking his dog in the fields up by Loch Crawe stumbled across what looks like two unexploded World War Two bombs.’
‘Bloody hell!’ breathed Evan. ‘Are you joking?’
‘Nope. Wish I was, mate.’
Bombs? Loch Crawe? That was the only way I could get home to Strath Ross. Panic flooded me. ‘But I have to get back.’
Karl shook his head. ‘Nobody is going anywhere near that road for the time being. We need this expert to take a look.’
‘And then what?’ I asked, my optimism and excitement at the prospect of seeing my grandfather today withering fast.
‘And then he’ll advise us on what should be done next. Bomb disposal will be called in.’
Oh shit. This was not going to be solved in a matter of hours. I recalled a similar incident in Wales a while back. The bomb had to be exploded, and the nearby locals ended up being evacuated from their homes for several days.
Karl spoke again. His expression was sympathetic, as the sun glided down one side of his face. ‘Is there somewhere else you can stay for the time being, Miss…?’
‘Daisy Madden,’ I faltered.
‘Miss Madden, I can let you head on down to Evan’s folks’, but you can’t go any further.’
I watched the blonde reporter still buzzing around the police car and the officers chatting amongst themselves. This was just what I needed!
I’d have to ring Grandpa and tell him. He’d be every bit as disappointed as I was. My shoulders sank under my T-shirt. I’d just have to deposit Evan at his parents’ home, turn around and then head back down the road and find a bed and breakfast somewhere.
I’d planned to put the money Evan had given me towards the cost of petrol for my journey back to London, not on accommodation. So much for the best laid plans.
The hotels round this area were sumptuous but on the pricey side. If I couldn’t find a reasonably priced bed and breakfast, I’d have no option but to fork out more money. It would either be that or sleeping in Marlene.
Karl stepped back from my driver side window. ‘Apologies again.’
I pressed the accelerator and pulled away. I was churning with disbelief and annoyance. I had to shrug off the enveloping feeling of self-pity. These bombs could’ve killed someone. In the scheme of things, my predicament wasn’t that serious. It was just so infuriating and disappointing.