Initially wary of what she’s getting into, Sophia hangs back, and cautiously observes the revellers from a distance, through the window of her car. And then, finally, she takes the plunge and walks over to meet her work-friends who are all standing in the street. She greets them all with a kiss on their cheeks.
“Great to see you Sophia!” they say. Her friends appear a lot taller than her, and they are not lacking in self-confidence as they stand outside in the street drinking and smoking and smiling widely. “Want a cigarette Sophia? She takes one, and lights up. “We’re here to party and to drink. What’re you having?”
“A nice white wine,” Sophia replies, gratefully, with a warm smile, stroking her hair back. They stand together in a group. Her classy friends are loud and charming, and they tower over her.
“I’ll have the same,” says a tall lady with dark curly hair.
“I’ll get them,” Sophia offers, then heads into the bar to get the drinks. “Two glasses of white wine please” she says as she reaches the counter. A friendly-looking guy in his mid-twenties, with a short beard, is sitting at the bar. She glances sideways at him, politely acknowledges his presence, then looks away.
“Do you work with Juliette?” he asks her.
“Yes.”
“What do you do?”
“Speech Therapist.”
“Lucky me, I have speech problems,” he says, jokingly.
“Really? I can’t tell.”
“Yeah, I know, the alcohol helps,” he says. “When I drink, I’m fine.”
She flashes her ring. “I’m married,” she says.
“Happily married?”
“Happily, yes!” She walks away from the bar and joins her tall and confident friends.
A good while later, Sophia has left the others, and is about to drive home. She sits, again, in her car, watching the people on the street passing by. The guy from the bar, who she was talking to earlier, is walking along on his own. He looks over at her car, and she catches his eye. He stops. She maintains eye-contact and then beckons him over with her hand.
The guy from the bar, who she was talking to earlier, is walking along on his own. He looks over at her car, and she catches his eye. He stops. She maintains eye-contact and then beckons him over with her hand. He gets into the passenger seat at the front, next to her. She drives to a multi-story car-park and parks. He starts to kiss her passionately, but Sophia seems to be in conflict.
“No. Stop,” she says to him.
“What do you mean?” the aroused man says.
“I can’t,” she says.
“What?”
“Get out. Get out!” Sophia says, forcibly. “Please.” He gives her a disgruntled look, pauses, and then gets out of the car, closes the door, and walks away.
Sophia had noticed a parked car that seems to have been there for years, judging by the layers of dust covering the body-work, and this triggers memories of Loch Garten and a drowning child, and a dead raven on the stony shore of the loch.
