Betwixt

Chapter Two

Lost in her reverie, Catherine had also lost her bearings on the road and wasn't sure if she had already passed the cottage. There was a small space to pull the car in at a gate to a field on the left hand side, where she stopped to have a think. Everything looked the same in the darkness. Shapes and shadows loomed ahead, offering no clues as to what direction she should be heading. Instinctively, she thought about calling Nathan for help. That momentary lapse of reason was enough to send her to the depths of her grief. She cradled her head in her arms, leaning against the steering wheel, but still no tears came. Just an ache in her chest and the sour taste of resentment in her mouth. 'What am I doing here?' she thought to herself, not for the first time since setting out on her journey. She thought it might help, being in a place where they had been so happy together. Their home was still tainted by all of the painful memories she just couldn't bear to deal with. Being there, in his absence, was almost suffocating her.

Just then, a car approached from the opposite direction, its headlights casting a temporary light on her surroundings. She could see the bridge was still further ahead. Immeasurably grateful for the driver's impeccable timing, she shifted her focus back to the present and started the engine once again. 'You're doing the right thing', she told herself, in that positive self-talk the grief counsellor had advised, and she shifted gears. 'A nice cup of tea and a warm fire and you'll be fine,' she continued, feeling a little better already.

She couldn't help but recall their first night there, when she secretly found herself wishing that she had booked a spa weekend instead of this damp and rickety old cottage, with windows so small and low that hardly any natural light was permitted entrance. Yes the bright red half door had appealed to her sense of nostalgia and the thatched roof was extremely charming, but nothing could have prepared her for the overpowering stench of turf smoke that permeated every fibre of clothing, every strand of hair. She remembered how they laughed in the tiny shower together, as the mountain water trickled sparingly from an old copper showerhead with a dubious brown tinge.

"Apparently it's supposed to be this colour," she said suspiciously.

"What's the matter?" Nathan had joked, "I thought you loved the countryside."

"I think that maybe I like looking at it more than I like being in it," she admitted finally, as he wrapped them both in a large bath sheet.

"Well, despite the fact that I nearly broke my neck climbing up that makeshift ladder to the mezzanine bedroom, I think it's perfect," he assured her, kissing her moist shoulder and neck.

"Really? I was starting to think that booking this place was a big mistake," she confessed.

"I have you here," he said in a low whisper, "what more could I want?"

Catherine tried to keep her emotions at bay while she drove across the little stone bridge and kept an eye out for the break in the hedgerows that signalled the entrance to the cottage. A sign would have been helpful, especially given that most of the visitors to this cottage would be tourists, but Mrs. Donnelly spared little or no thought for the well-being of her guests. She rented the place out at a premium rate, but never reinvested anything into the upkeep of the cottage. It was an authentic countryside experience, and getting lost was apparently a part of it.

The wipers fought valiantly to keep the windscreen clear, but along with the condensation building up inside the car, the edges were becoming blurry. In the blink of an eye, Catherine thought she saw a shape on her side of the road and jammed on the brakes. The rain-slicked road caused the car to skid and to her utter horror, she heard a thump. The car came to a swerving halt and she clamoured out of her seat, hardly remembering to undo the seatbelt. The headlights were facing the hedgerow and so the road behind was in complete darkness. Her head was spinning and her heart filled with dread as she ran to the other side of the car. There on the road she could just make out a crumpled figure. She had hit someone and he wasn't moving.