Eleanor left early the following day, heading through Hawick and over the long moors and beautiful valleys of the western and central Borders to Haddington. She drove slowly, enjoying the near-sensual power of the Crossley, with the hood down to savour the sensation of the wind flowing around her.
It’s been a long time, she thought and laughed. A long time? It’s only been a few days.
It’s been a long timeA long time? It’s only been a few daysEleanor was singing as she entered Haddingtonshire, one of the most fertile counties in Scotland. It is a region of small villages, snug farms, and wealthy estates beneath a vast arc of sky. Eleanor drove through the market town of Haddington and found Maintree without difficulty, an eighteenth-century manor house tucked in a bend of the River Tyne.
