The Wednesday following, Eiley eyed the book bus once more, the keys clutched in her sweaty palm. With the autumn festival a success and the kids off school for half-term, she’d put off all things shop-related for a few days until Cam had taken them, quite forcibly, off her hands this morning to visit the swimming baths with her brood. Eiley no longer had an excuse to avoid this.
Behind her, Maggie’s golden bangles jangled as she patted Eiley’s shoulder. “I think you’ll be great, dear. Have a practice today, see how it feels. If you can’t manage, I can always drive you up to the farm myself.”
Eiley nodded without much conviction. It had sounded like a dream when Maggie had told her that they’d got permission to park up and sell books at Phoebe’s Pumpkin Patch. The popular farm just outside of town held amazing seasonal events and would be sure to bring in plenty of customers: the only reason why Eiley was even considering getting in a van she was absolutely not confident enough to drive. Fraser had promised to help her practice on thebackroads, but she wanted so badly to just be brave. Do it herself. As she’d told him, if she could push three children out of her foof with only gas and air, she could handle this. Probably. Maybe. Certainly, her refusal had nothing to do with the fact that she was avoiding her brother after the incident with Warren, afraid Harper had spilled everything about their little woodland woohoo.
Anyway, this wasn’t about him. It wasn’t even about her. This was for the bookstore. They could accomplish so much with this new business venture, including spreading her love of reading to children in and around Belbarrow. Sky’s appreciation of books had only developed in the last year, and he only engaged if Brook or Eiley read aloud, but she knew not all parents had the time and resources to keep their children’s connection to fiction alive and wanted to provide other options. Maybe she could even tell the stories as well as sell them.
It wasn’t the only problem, she’d noticed. A lot of people grew up thinking they didn’t like reading, when really, they just hadn’t found their favourite genre or author yet. If she could add more diversity to bookshelves, maybe she’d inspire more bookworms.
It was a pipe dream, but she’d spent a long time questioning what her purpose was outside of being a mother: was it maybe this?
“You’re right. This will be great,” she decided, and at least half-believed it. Determined, Eiley stepped towards the van. She could do this. She was brave, and qualified, and eager formore independence. She didn’t want the bookstore to just be a soulless part-time job like the ones she’d had before. She wanted it tomeansomething.
“Okay. I’m going in,” she decided. Her feet didn’t move. She tried again. “I’m … really going.”
“You can do it!” Maggie all but shoved her forward. “You’re a strong independent woman about to dominate that van!”
Eiley had never dominated anything, but she opened the door, pretending the climb into the high driver’s seat didn’t intimidate her, even if the stretch strained her hamstring.
And then she thought of Warren jumping into the massive fire engine without fear or hesitation the other day, even as worry had brimmed in Eiley from the sidelines. She hadn’t truly considered how dangerous a firefighter’s job was until she’d gone home that evening, turning on the news to see the wildfire spreading over the Highlands. It had only been a minor incident, apparently a camper’s barbecue that hadn’t been tamped out properly, but with the dry weather and winds, the newscaster had warned that it might have been much worse if not for the emergency workers’ quick response.
Since they’d exchanged numbers on their way out of the woods, she’d texted Warren (with nonchalant smiling emojis so as not to reveal her worry). He’d replied that the fire had been doused no problem with an equally casual thumbs up, like it was the easiest thing in the world to put out the flames.
If Warren could handle that, for heaven’s sake, she could do this.
So, she put her keys into the ignition, cast a tentative wave to Maggie, and went on her not-so-merry way.
To avoid traffic, Eiley decided to practice in a place she knew well, journeying through the quiet backroads around Loch Teárlag. She had the radio on low as she settled into the quiet route, the falling leaves outside dancing across her windscreen in time to her playlist, which was mostly just theTwilightsoundtrack interspersed withEncanto, Brook’s favourite Disney movie. He’d managed to add “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” to every single Spotify collection she’d created.
Every pothole jolted through her, the books rattling around behind the cabin, but she was beginning to think she could do this. Even sang as much to the tune of “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse, which was very empowering.
Eventually, turning the scary bends and accelerating up the steep inclines towards the Highlands came naturally, and she relaxed. “Okay. I’m doing it. Look at me go!”
In fact, it was almostnice. She was alone, something she rarely got to be with three kids, even when she was on the toilet. Solitude had been thrown out of the window the moment Brook started walking, but now, the tranquility wrapped around her, reminding her why she’d loved her new job before it had all gone wrong.
Her grip around the steering wheel loosened. Perhaps she was driving a bit slowly, but with the window down, it was lovely to feel the warm breeze kiss her face, the fields andevergreens rolling past outside. Some of her heaviness floated out the window and swirled around with the leaves, leaving her as not the stagnant, trapped being she’d felt like before, but somebody that was capable of moving through the world without having to haul herself over a million obstacles first. She was part of it, for once: not just watching things happen, but helping them to.
Until the engine sputtered. She sat straighter in her seat, checking the fuel levels on the dash, but everything looked fine. The van seemed to struggle around the next turn all the same, and she was so focused on trying to figure out why that she almost didn’t see the brown blur of fur in front of her.
Panicked, she hit the brakes at lightning speed, squealing as she was jolted out of her seat. The deer’s white rear disappeared into the trees on the other side of the road. Safe, thank goodness.
“Poo!” she cursed over Paramore’s heavy rock music.
Turning off the radio, she brushed the hair from her face and caught her breath.
“You’re okay. This is all very fine. Nobody’s hurt, and it happens all the time.” Fraser had almost been in an accident himself a few months back, leading to a long rant about how the building of more holiday rentals in the woods was driving the wildlife away.
Still, her hands shook as she put her foot on the gas again. The van jangled in complaint, the smell of diesel filling her senses. She moved forward at a sluggish crawl, then trundled to a slow, final stop.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
“I give up.” Eiley yanked her keys out of the ignition and slammed her fists against the steering wheel. Again, she’d tried. Again, she would have to go home with her tail between her legs to tell everybody that the van had broken down, and they would take it as proof that she shouldn’t be left alone.
Willing herself not to cry, she unplugged her phone from the aux cable, searching for Maggie’s number.
“Not a big deal, Eiley,” she told herself. “Lots of people have bad luck. Lots of people break down. Physically and mentally.”
But in moments like this, she truly understood Sky’s meltdowns. Every day, the world got just a little nosier and more difficult to navigate, problems piling up. Everyone else made coping look easy. People dealt with far worse than a broken-down van or a ruined flat. And yet these things clung to her like ropes, blistering her skin and keeping her bound.
