CHAPTER 18
As it often does, the loch calls to me—walk alongside me and your mood will change. Guaranteed.
A rare evening—the wind has dropped and the waters are glassily still, apart from the small dog who keeps running in and out of the loch just in front of the Lochside Welcome. He spots me and dashes over, little legs carrying him much quicker than you’d expert from a wee, overweight terrier. As soon as he’s in front of me, furious shaking coats my light-coloured jeans in dirty water. Thanks, Scottie.
“Sorry aboot that, Gaby,” Stewart says. When the loch whispered to me, promising relaxation and calm, she said nothing about Stewart. Ah well. Coding Websites Part 352 coming up...
“Aye, so a lot o’ people think ye cannae eat porridge in the summer but...”
Argh. It’s the porridge mon
