Page 95 of The Next Chapter

‘You ready?’

‘Am I ever!’ I overcompensate with my levels of enthusiasm. ‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?’

Noah makes a zipping motion across his mouth. Lovely mouth. ‘It’s a surprise, but I think you’ll like it.’ Noah said that about the cave, and I did like it. But just to be on the safe side, I narrow my eyes. ‘It’s not paragliding, is it?’

He laughs. ‘Nope.’

‘Okay, good. Obviously being the adrenaline junkie that I am I would absolutely be down for that, so just checking.’

Another laugh. ‘Come on.’

We head to the car park at the front of the hotel. That vet guy, James, is there, chatting to Lola.

Lola looks a little flushed, if you ask me, which obviously no one is, but still.

‘James has come to check on Bertie,’ Lola tells us as we pass.

‘Bertie?’ I ask them all.

‘The chicken,’ James answers. ‘He keeps walking into walls. I’ll get him right, though.’

If this James can sort out Bertie, Bertie the bald, blind chicken, he’s not a vet, he’s a miracle worker.

‘Okay, well enjoy!’ I send a quick wave to them all. Lola has her tool belt around her waist. Right on time, Scout the Labrador, the daft chicken and a small pig come out of the hotel doors. It is very, very bizarre up here.

‘It’s a little bit of a drive, so get comfy.’

I use Noah’s words as an excuse to hug his middle a bit tighter. I’m an old hand at this motorbike malarky now, so at least I’m not wearing a long dress. I’m in denim shorts and what I use interchangeably as a nighttime T-shirt. It’s one that I got for taking part in some sponsored run. Basically, I’ve given up fighting the fact that Isle of Skye me looks like she occasionally lives in a bin.

We set off and the sweet, sweet numbness that comes from feeling like death is just a hair’s breadth away takes over while I cling to Noah.

Fields and mountains blur around us as we pass them, the hills becoming slightly smaller in scale, greener than the dark, jagged mountains around Lola’s hotel.

Eventually, we join a short row of cars waiting to turn into a driveway.

‘Technically, this isn’t a hidden gem,’ Noah twists round to tell me. ‘But I think you’re going to enjoy it.’

We edge forward in the queue, and I see the purple sign by the entrance.

‘Welcome to Dunvegan Castle.’

Now, some people get excited about boxes of chocolates. Flowers, jewellery even. Noah gets turned on by naturally occurring phenomena. But me, historical landmarks are my kryptonite. Nothing gets me going more than a good castle.

I almost fall off the bike, letting go of Noah to flap my hands around.

‘I love castles!’ I say. ‘Like, seriously love them. I once had this idea about going around all the castles in the country. I made a map and everything.’

‘That sounds like a plan I could get on board with.’

‘I don’t think you understand, Noah, you have to really love castles to commit to a plan like that. Seb came with me to three and then said that they were all the same. And he calls himself a historian.’

Noah laughs some more as we park up.

‘Well, this castle has an extra surprise in store too,’ Noah says.

It’s then that I see it. Taking away from the majestic beauty of the castle, a little red plane with ‘Skye from the Sky’ painted on it.

Oh no.