Eighteen With A Chalkboard

Chapter 5: A First Day Fiasco In Edinburgh

We arrive in the bustling heart of Edinburgh. Amid the city's activity, my anxiety grows, and I can't shake a feeling of unease and excitement.

I ask Mr. Sage, "Who are we waiting for?"

"Patrick," he responds cryptically, checking his smartphone. I catch a glimpse of a picture of a little girl on his wallpaper before he quickly puts his phone away. Despite my curiosity, I remain silent since Mr. Sage has never mentioned his family to me.

A man in black suits approaches. My mind races with questions about who this man could be. The heat of the afternoon sun makes his formal attire seem even more out of place. Mr. Sage introduces me to the man, Patrick Woods, who is to be my chauffeur.

Patrick, the tall dark skinned muscular man, with a polished smile, scans me briefly, which feels both respectful and assessing.

Patrick moves toward my luggage and gestures for me to follow. "May we?" he asks politely, already reaching for the bags. I look at Mr. Sage, my heart racing, and ask if he's joining us. He declines, smirking, fully aware of how much I wanted him to come along. Saying goodbye to him, I turned follow Patrick out of the city center toward the parking lot.

We navigate through the crowded streets, the noise and bustle adding to my unease. Patrick leads me to a sleek black van, opening the door with a practiced flourish. I climb in, the cool leather seats providing a small comfort. Patrick takes the driver's seat, and soon we're weaving through the city traffic.

The drive feels interminable, the city's sights blurring together as my mind churns with frustration. Tall buildings give way to quieter, tree-lined streets. After what feels like forever, we finally pull into a serene neighborhood filled with big mansions and charming, smaller white houses.

As soon as I step out of the car, the cool air of the place welcomes me. It's a beautiful and quiet neighborhood.

Patrick schleps my luggage, leading me to a smaller house painted pure white on the outside. The front porch is bordered by fresh, green, healthy grass and small bushes at the sides, giving it a homely feel.

Patrick reaches and opens the door for me with a smile. I step into the house, and what greets me takes my breath away. The inside is pure white. The small couches are white, the walls are pure white, the carpet is white, and a soft light gives the living room a gentle brightness. It is small and confined, perfect for me. I am in love with this!

"I will show you to your room," Patrick offers.

"No need," I say quickly, licking my dry lips. "You... leave. I'll figure out where my room is."

Patrick opens his mouth to interject.

"I'm good!" I insist, trying my best to show him my angry face, though it probably looks more like a nervous grimace.

He nods innocently. "Okay, whatever you say, Mr. Poland." He places my luggage on the cream carpet. "Here's the key to the house." He hands me the silver key. "And I'll come back later for your ride."

"What ride?" I ask, puzzled.

"The ride around the city."

I blink and swallow. "Uh... There's no need. I want to... rest a bit, just to... er... to think about tomorrow." I say dismissively.

Patrick opens his mouth as if to say something but then closes it slightly. "Whatever you need." He hands me his card and leaves the house. As soon as he is out, I heave a sigh of relief. I take my luggage into what I guess is my room. It isn't a double-story house, but it has two bedrooms.

I step into the large bedroom and see a bed with crisp white sheets. Everything in the room is white, from the spacious wardrobe to the bookcase filled with neatly arranged books. The white walls and soft white carpet enhance the serene, airy feel. The white curtains by the windows and the white lamps on the bedside tables complete the dreamlike atmosphere-just like my dream house.