Chapter Six
That night, Nefertiti never went to bed. Instead, she lay on the couch and every now and then, let out a sob so loud that Sam jumped, screeched and dug his claws into Sheryl. In the end, Sheryl couldn’t take any more and went down to console Nefertiti, or at least shut her up. Beatrice, however, had beaten her to it. With a brandy in one hand and an aspirin in the other, Beatrice was doing her best to console. She gave Nefertiti the aspirin, and then took a sip of brandy.
‘What am I gonna do?’ said Nefertiti. ‘My precious Flower of Scotland. How will I face the wrestlers?’
Beatrice looked at the crumpled heap, she had heard a lot about Nefertiti and none of it resembled what lay before her.
This was a woman who, according to those in the Stables, had rode into Lochgilphead
