The Library Of Edinburgh

Chapter Five - The Car Ride

Somewhere between Wolsingham and Edinburgh

The drive was relatively slow, the vast and unpredictable country roads forced James to drive carefully throughout the endless miles they still had ahead of them before being able to access the motorway.

Eleanor kept quiet during the first half hour of the drive, not wanting to share too much or create uncomfortable conversations. The man didn't seem to be very talkative and she didn't want to further trouble him more than she already has. He has offered a free ride to Edinburgh and she couldn't ask for more.

Deciding to stay quiet, Eleanor kept her eyes on the road as she looked at the beautiful country scenery from her window. She rubbed her hands together, her fingers were freezing and she had forgotten her gloves in one of her suitcases. 'Stupid girl'she muttered to herself.

James looked over to his side, noticing the frantic movements of her cold hands against each other, trying to create some pathetic version of warmth. He reached out for the temperature controller and increased the heat inside, "You could have just asked." He firmly said while putting his eyes back on the road.

She looked over to him, realizing what he was referring to and noticing the temperature change "Thank you." She softly uttered.

"You are allowed to talk, you know?" He rhetorically questioned while adjusting his hands on the wheel.

"I have nothing to say." She politely responded, not taking her eyes away from her window.

Silence filled the car, the tension was sharp and the eagerness both had to get to know each other increased by the minute. They would go their separate ways after this short chapter of their lives and they would never see each other again. They would go back to being strangers in this big world.

This poorly planned trip, the dependence on kind strangers and willingly going through all of this trouble for the possibility of getting a job at a library was never something Eleanor thought about experiencing. Out of every fiction book in her collection, she never actually stop to think that she would ever live a story like the ones she is used to read. When she walks down the street and comes face to face with random strangers, she always had the notion that everyone is living and writing their own story. 

Maybe the people that she would drive by during this trip couldn't even begin to imagine that she was actually catching a ride from a stranger that she met in a small town in middle of nowhere, after her car breaking down on her way to Edinburgh to attend a job interview for a library. It reinforced the idea that even if we could see the most diverse groups of people walking down the street and try to imagine their story, we would never be able to fully grasp the depth of their tales.

For Eleanor, it was both bizarre and fascinating the fact that so many great stories existed, it was even more extraordinary to realize that many beautiful stories aren't and weren't written down, and those that were got replicated time and time again, in the pathetic attempt of finding a perfect start, a perfect plot and a perfect ending. It was an infinite search for something that only those who lived it could perfectly do. 

Words were the things that which Eleanor looked at the most and she still finds a way of not using them at all. During the first hour of the car drive she kept quiet, but James wanted nothing more from his trip than to try to decipher the young lady that sat on his passenger seat. She might be shy, but she surely wasn't a coward or one to give up quickly. Her relentless peruse for such a simple job was admirable in his eyes and he couldn't help it but to praise her endless efforts to achieve something she truly wanted. She, quite literally, went the extra mile for this.

James internally chuckled at the thought.

"What time do you think we will arrive?" Eleanor questioned, breaking the deadly silence that clogged them.