She looked in the mirror then turned back to the road in front and swerved around a narrow bend squeezed between hedges. They’d been driving for half an hour and there was no sign of being followed. The roads were single lane to start with and she drove too fast around turns and over humps, waiting for a bus or lorry to smash into them. Her hands were sweaty and her throat dry as she tried to remember to breathe.
She thought about Ewan. Given what he’d told her about this guy and his armed goons, maybe they’d killed him. She felt sick and guilty that he’d sacrificed himself to give them time. And she was angry that he’d pulled that on her last minute, didn’t give her a chance to argue. It should’ve been her. And she thought about Paul at the station, Iona in the house. This was such a mess and she was responsible. She’d brought this to Paul’s door.
Every few minutes they hit a junction and took the road that looked less well travelled. Narrow single lanes, high hedges, less chance of being found. At one point they crossed an A road but didn’t take it. But eventually they had to use a proper road. Lennox pulled up the map on his phone. Between them and the coast was a large spread of hills, no through roads, only farm tracks and dead ends. They had to go round, so they joined the road northwest. The traffic was light and Heather went back to checking the mirror. No sign of an SUV, only delivery vans and cars.
The countryside opened out as they gained altitude, lochs here and there, rolling grassland giving way to bleaker moors. There was a sense this was the real Highlands, waiting for millions of years for something to happen. They did a long stretch alongside an open loch, dammed at the end. The brown bracken and heather was like a quilt over the surrounding hills. The sense of space was immense, like they were driving into the heavens.
Their truck was stuck behind a car with Dutch plates pulling a caravan. Heather remembered holidays in the Highlands in the campervan with Paul before Rosie was born. They’d been to Ullapool once. They’d driven round the north coast before it was marketed as the North Coast 500, bringing too many tourists. Nothing ever stayed the same but that didn’t mean things got better. She had the feeling now this wouldn’t end well. She tried to picture a happy ending and couldn’t see it. She remembered she was dying. In all this shit she’d forgotten. So that was her ending, whatever happened to the rest.
Ava shifted in her seat.
Heather glanced over. ‘Are you OK?’
Ava gave an eye roll and a sigh. ‘Bursting for a pee.’
Heather looked around. Not a tree in sight, just open land. ‘How bursting?’
‘Very.’
She signalled and pulled onto the verge. There was a shallow ditch alongside, enough to crouch in. Heather waited for a car to pass then got out, as Lennox let Ava out then climbed back in.
‘Don’t look,’ Ava said to him.
Heather helped her into the ditch and handed her a wet wipe from her bag.
Ava pulled down her trousers and Heather turned to check for cars.
‘Sorry,’ Ava said.
Heather heard the pee patter on the gravelly soil. ‘Don’t be. You’re listening to your body.’
She heard an engine then saw a big black car appear round the bend. Her chest tightened but as it got closer she saw it wasn’t Fellowes, just a rich mum heading somewhere.
‘OK,’ Ava said when the car had passed. ‘That’s better.’
She tapped on the truck door and Lennox let her in. Heather got in and they drove in silence for a while.
‘What are we going to do?’ Ava said eventually. She turned her head to each of them in turn.
‘Just get to Ullapool,’ Lennox said.
‘Then what?’ Ava said.
He shrugged and touched the backpack. Heather saw a tentacle emerge from the small opening at the top, flashing orange. This was so insane she couldn’t handle it. And yet here she was, handling the shit out of it.
Lennox touched the tentacle and his eyes glassed over then he was back. ‘Get them back to their family.’
Heather frowned. ‘Did Sandy tell you that?’
‘Not exactly but that’s what it feels like.’
‘And then?’ Ava said, rubbing her eyes.
Heather knew what she meant. If they returned Sandy to the sea, what was left for them? Heather was dying, Lennox had formed an attachment, and Ava would have her baby soon. And there was Michael, Fellowes, the police, the dead body in East Lothian to account for. And Ewan, Paul and Iona, the whole fucking mess.
‘Dunno,’ Lennox said with a shrug.
Heather laughed. ‘Fucking hell.’
Ava shook her head.
They reached the head of another loch which widened into an estuary.
‘Loch Broom,’ Lennox said, consulting his phone.
They drove along the loch side for a few miles, Heather checking the mirror and thinking about Ewan, hoping. She glanced over and saw the backpack moving, Lennox with his hand in as if to stroke a puppy.
She looked back at the road as they reached a bend. They were high up and beginning to descend towards the mouth of the loch. Ahead was a thin strip of white houses jutting into the middle of the water on a low headland. She recognised Ullapool from years ago, in a different vehicle, a different world, a different life.
‘We’re here,’ she said.