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“Moved here to heal from the grief of her husband’s death, I suppose.”
    “What did the husband
do?”
    “Was an architect, I
heard.”
    “Her name?”
    “Emma Winston.”
    Mrs. Kinnaird sat
back quietly. She watched the stream of trees fly past her. She let out a small
breath. She could be the one, she thought. The one she had been waiting for all
these years.
    “Turn around
Theodore,” she said quietly. “It's time we go home.”

 
    *****

 
    Emma glanced at the
dark BMW turn out of the driveway and into the main road. It crept slowly by
her. She tried not to look at the old woman that seemed to be peering at her
with a strange stare through the dark tinted windows. Emma looked down
uncomfortably, brushing the loose strands of hair framing her face away in a
weak attempt to occupy herself as the car crawled by her. When the car drove
away, she shook her head in bewilderment. The old woman was sure strange.
    Emma let out a small
nervous giggle. Mrs. Kinnaird must be wondering if she was crazy strolling
along a deserted highway at approaching dusk. She heard the tweeting of birds
preparing for the night in the trees around her. The setting sun was emanating
a golden glow. She loved the feel of it on her skin as she basked in its amber
light. There was still much light in the sky for her to walk a little further
on.
    She heard the sound
of a car come towards her and she edged onto the side of the road. It was Mrs.
Kinnaird’s dark BMW and it was slowing as it approached her. To her surprise,
it veered to her side of the road and came to a stop right beside her.
    The dark windows
rolled down and inside was sitting an old woman who had a frown etched up high
on her forehead. A deep green shawl was draped over her shoulders. Her shoulder
length hair bobbed as she tilted her head to a side to scrutinise her. Her eyes
roamed the facets of Emma’s face as Emma looked back at her with obvious stun,
speechless.
    “Who are you,”
demanded the woman. It wasn’t a question. Emma didn’t know whether to be
offended by the statement. But seeing this could highly possibly be the
infamous Mrs. Kinnaird that most of Skye was in awe of, she decided to undertake
a more peaceful approach.
    She managed a small
smile and leant towards the window. “I’m Emma.   I live down the road,” she said pointing towards it.
    The woman   frowned at her with indifference.
    Emma hesitated before
she said. “I saw you a little earlier drive out of the adjoining property. Are
you Mrs. Kinnaird?”
    The woman sat back
and stared straight ahead. “It’s late. Get in. You should not be walking at
such an hour.”
    Emma dropped her gaze
to the ground, feeling uneasy at accepting her offer. “I’m fine, madam,” she
said sternly. “I can manage the walk back.”
    “Theodore,” the woman
said.
    A tall, thin man
stepped out of the driver’s seat. He wore a dark suit and was immaculately
groomed. He stepped around the car and towards Emma. “Please, Miss,” he said opening
the rear door for her. “Mrs. Kinnaird would appreciate it if you would oblige
her to drop you off home.” He said the name with a little reassuring smile. A
smile that told her that she would be safe.

Chapter 4

 
 
    The two minute car
ride to her house was done in absolute silence. Emma twiddled her thumbs
nervously, the ride feeling longer than it actually was.
    Mrs. Kinnaird sat
beside her without saying a word. Emma almost breathed out a sigh of relief as
she saw her house emerge in the distance. The car came to a smooth halt outside
her home. Emma opened her car door a little too eagerly before remembering her
manners.
    “Um…thank you Mrs.
Kinnaird,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
    The older woman
continued to stare outside her window. She didn’t look at Emma nor did she
acknowledge her.
    Emma swallowed
uncomfortably, unsure of what she was to do. She put a foot outside the door.
    “Mrs. Winston,” the
woman said at last. “If ever you