Afterwards he took the car and left, went island hopping to Harris, Lewis, Bara, Uist, leaving her on Skye. Moved to a pokey room, a table set for one, she nursed her pain; but not for long. The staff were courteous, neither more nor less. Perhaps to them such rifts were commonplace. Next morning, map in hand, she ventured out. Tired and hot by early afternoon, she traced the sound of water to a stream too far below the path for dangling feet. Round mossy rocks and over lumpy roots she followed it up to a steep-edged pool, its sides worn smooth by the current from a sparkling waterfall. Modest, middle aged, would she dare? What if someone spied on her, or worse? 0r went off with her clothes? Fool, she said. She’d seen no one all day. Take a chance. The pool looked deep to such a timid swimmer. Go on, woman, this is your adventure. The shock of icy water soon wore off. A push and six strokes took her right across. Clinging she edged behind the waterfall saw a trembling world through pouring glass. She swam to a sunlit spot where she could float watching the tree tops fringe the summer sky till she was shivering, knew she should climb out. That proved difficult. No foothold anywhere At home she always used the steps. Terror propelled her up and over the edge. She flopped on the nearby grass and spread herself letting the thirsty sun lap every drop. Even her creases yielded to its kiss. Dressing, her clothes took kindly to her skin. She had enjoyed herself. Without him.