To Catch A Storm Read Online Free Page B

tyres. She felt she could have hit the corner even faster and the car would still have flown around it. Lapping it up. Almost like it was enjoying the challenge. It filled her with even more gusto. She adjusted her rear view mirror so she could see how far back they were but they were out of view, probably at the bottom of the hill still. She came off the brake and squeezed the accelerator once again. As the speed increased, so did the width of the grin across her face.
    “Bye bye little boys. Don’t mess with girls in white,” she looked over at the wording on the glovebox and reminded herself, “Lamborghinis.”
    Millions of pin pricks of stars cut into the sheet of twilight that was descending over her. Ahead of her lay Edinburgh, where an ambient orange glow rose above the city. As she left the country side behind her, the pin pricks became fewer and fewer. Once into the slower traffic of Edinburgh, she was aware of people staring whenever she was at traffic lights. They were alerted to the car by the exhaust’s popping and backfiring as she slowed (she wasn’t sure if this was something it was supposed to do or if there was a problem). Then the deep bass burbling noise that counted for this car’s ‘tick over’ would cause people to crane their necks to see who was driving such an outrageous car. Just Janet, a bank worker from London. She came into the city through Morningside which seemed lovely and vaguely familiar. She had been in Edinburgh before but wasn’t sure if she had been in this part of the city.
    What was she going to do once she arrived at her destination? She needed to regroup, get herself together. She also needed somewhere to stay. She opened her maps app on her phone and saw a lot of hotels, but a 5 Star one just ahead looked about right. There was no need to worry about expense considering the bag next to her.
    She saw Edinburgh Castle lit up in the early evening dusk. As she passed it on her right, she saw the imposing looking hotel on her left hand side which corresponded with her phone’s navigation and swept the car around to its front. The Caledonian. She killed the engine then rummaged in her bag for her sunglasses. She looked like (and was) a beaten women currently and it did not suit her. A smart looking man with a grey tartan kilt came and opened her car door. He also offered his hand to help her out of the car which she took as she was sitting so low down. Once out, he reached in and got the bags and place them on a trolley. This made her panic slightly, but she told herself to be cool.
    “Do you have any other bags to bring in Madam?” he asked.
    “No, that’s it thanks.”
    “OK, just let reception know when you need your car back and we’ll bring it around for you.” A group of teenagers stopped to look at her car and tried to see what it was like inside. She was used to this type of attention now. One of the teenagers said ‘nice Lambo’ Missis’. She gave him the slightest, coolest smile possible and turned away. The valet’s assistant turned the key and the car’s engine shouted its angry growl. The teenagers were visibly shocked and recoiled.
    She ignored them and entered the hotel trying to look like the sort of woman who turns up places in a white Lamborghini. And not doing a bad job (she secretly thought). At reception, she told them she needed a room and after a few questions about her ‘needs’, was offered a ‘Queen Classic’ double room with breakfast. She looked at the bag on the trolley for a second and turned back to the receptionist.
    “Do you have something more like a suite?” She asked.
    “Of course madam.” The receptionist looked again at the computer screen and scrolled downwards. “I have one Queen suite left.” There was no mention of cost, but Janet didn’t care. It had been a stressful day and she needed space (and time) to recuperate. She enquired about room service and was informed there would be a menu in her room (as well as a