{ Andy }

After Anne and Angus had left, a feeling of tranquillity washed over me. I headed to the living room, where I had a hunch I'd find the most valuable treasure: the internet connection. I dropped my suitcase on the sofa with a weary sigh, took out my laptop, and sat down at the kitchen table. The screen took a couple of seconds to turn on. As soon as it did, an inner voice whispered that if I didn't organise my suitcase right then, it would become a chaotic mess of crumpled clothes that I'd never get sorted.

Huffing with reluctance and resignation, I made my way to the bedroom, knowing I had to face a task I really didn't feel like doing. But as I crossed the threshold, I tripped over my own foot, and my not-quite-closed suitcase burst open, spilling its contents all over the floor. Shirts, trousers and socks scattered everywhere, creating an absolute shambles that left me breathless. I stood there, paralysed, eyes fixed on the chaos I'd created, feeling my frustration and tiredness multiply tenfold.

Cleaning up that mess and organising the clothes in the wardrobe took me way longer than I'd have liked, but when I finished, I felt satisfied. The clothes, which had been crumpled and disorganised, were now neatly folded. I went back to the kitchen, connected my laptop to the Wi-Fi, and started browsing to see what I could find on the island. I felt like an eager tourist ready to explore a new place, with the advantage of not having a deadline to do it by.

'Hotels, the bay... a lighthouse!' I exclaimed excitedly while checking Maps, a smile spreading across my face as I saw that the lighthouse, with its tall white tower, was only an hour and a half's walk away.

If that wasn't enough, there was a castle too; plus, there were lots of other areas that caught my eye. I was raring to get up the next day and go exploring. I spent hours reading about the island, and night fell almost without me noticing. My stomach started growling, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in hours, and that's when I remembered the fridge was completely empty.

'Oops...' I muttered, scratching the back of my neck with an annoyed gesture, feeling a slight twinge of regret for not having thought about food earlier. If, instead of focusing on finding places to visit, I'd looked for a shop, I could have gone shopping; but, as always, I let my curiosity get the better of me and forgot about basic needs. I laughed at myself: it wasn't the first time something like this had happened to me, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

I remembered Anne had mentioned that they offered breakfasts, lunches and dinners, but a feeling of embarrassment and a little fear of not understanding anything again made me look for other options. It turned out there was a pub called 'Westray Inn' only five minutes away, so I didn't think twice about it.

I put on my jacket and, before leaving, stopped for a moment in front of the hallway mirror to fix my ponytail and try to tame my unruly curls. I made sure all the lights were off and went out, following the directions I'd seen online. The pub was right next door, so I didn't think I'd get lost.

The night air, icy and damp, seeped through the fabric of my coat, leaving me chilled despite it being September. I wondered how the islanders could bear living in such a cold place all year round. I pulled up the collar of my jacket and quickened my pace, eager to reach the pub and warm up, where I hoped to find a cosy atmosphere and some good hot food.

Why had I decided to throw myself into an adventure up north, where the cold was so intense? Why not wait for summer or find a warmer destination? I could've even chosen somewhere they spoke my language, but no... I liked making life complicated for myself, I guess. I'd always been an impulsive person, who dove headfirst into situations without thinking twice. But, be that as it may, there I was, and there was no turning back, at least not for a few months. I resigned myself to my fate and kept walking towards the pub.

The internet hadn't been wrong, the way was easy and in just five minutes I arrived at the impressive white stone facade I'd seen on my laptop screen. The architecture of the building reminded me of Chalmersquoy, although it was clearly bigger. All the old houses on the island seemed to have been built in the same way, with a characteristic style that I found fascinating. I stopped for a moment to admire the facade, observing the details of the stone and the way the moonlight reflected off it.

Next to the entrance, there was a small garden with wooden tables that, in high season, must always be occupied by people enjoying the sun and a cold beer. However, now they were completely empty and the garden looked a bit unkempt, with the tables covered in dry leaves and withered flowers. It gave me the feeling that the outside of the pub was waiting for tourist season to come back to life, as if it were in a state of hibernation.

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As soon as I crossed the threshold of the pub, I was enveloped in a warm, welcoming atmosphere that greeted me with open arms. It was a unique place, very different from what I was used to, but with an irresistible charm. The warm glow of the lamps and the crackling fire in the nearby fireplace created a cosy, homely ambiance that made me feel like I'd arrived at a haven after a long journey. The aroma of beer and hot food filled the air and, as with everything on that island since I'd arrived, I instantly fell in love with the place. There were high tables with red velvet stools, a long wooden bar that took up most of the space, and a few tables to my left where couples and groups of friends enjoyed their drinks and conversations. In one corner, a group of local musicians was playing live folk music at a long table, with traditional instruments that seemed to have been pulled straight out of a bygone era.

I noticed some of the locals were looking at me with interest, probably because I was a new face in town, but they smiled at me in a friendly way and continued their conversations, showing no real curiosity. I sat at one of the empty tables on my left, the one closest to the fireplace, to enjoy the warmth it gave off and feel a little more comfortable in the unfamiliar setting.

Suddenly, I was approached by a red-haired girl who couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and my attention was immediately drawn to her. Her tousled ginger locks, pulled back into a casual ponytail, framed a face full of freckles that accentuated her natural charm. Her eyes, which reminded me of Anne's warmth, smiled at me even before she reached the table.

'Hi there! How are you? You must be Andrea. I'm Nora, nice to meet you,' she said with a radiant smile.

Had she said my name? Did she know me from somewhere?

'H-hi. Sorry. I... I don't... my English...' I stammered, feeling like a complete dimwit, with my tongue tied and my mind blank.

The girl looked at me with an expression of tenderness and pity, as if I were a poor, frightened little animal that needed to be taken in and comforted.

'Don't worry,' she said, slowly and clearly, making me feel like she was talking to a small child. Her tone was so soft and soothing that I felt a little calmer. 'Would you like something to drink? Fancy a beer?'

Her gesture, as if she were drinking from an imaginary glass, was like a flash of humour in a tense moment. It turned out that sign language was much easier to understand than English. It made me smile, despite my anxiety, as if I'd found an ally in that strange place.

'Yes, please!' I exclaimed happily.

Anything she offered me was welcome at that point.

'Are you hungry?' she asked, this time making a circular motion with her hand over her stomach, as if indicating she was hungry.

'Oh, yes,' I said, nodding my head.

I wish everyone would speak to me with that patience and kindness. It would make my life in Pierowall much easier.

'Perfect,' she told me, winking and giving me a thumbs up in a gesture of optimism.

She headed towards the bar, where a tall, dark-haired guy around her age with curly hair was waiting for her, looking at me curiously, as if he were trying to figure out who I was.

I took out my phone to distract myself and not draw attention. I opened Instagram and scrolled through some stories without much interest, until the waitress came back with a massive beer that left me gaping.

'Wow!' I exclaimed in surprise, my eyes widening.

'It's a pint,' she said, laughing at my puzzled expression. 'If you don't drink much, next time you can order...' she laughed again seeing my confused face, 'A pint,' she repeated, pointing at the whole glass with her index finger.

I nodded, trying to memorise the word and its pronunciation. Then Nora made a gesture with her finger, as if she were rolling something in the air, and I nodded again, squinting my eyes to try and guess what she meant.

'Next time, a half pint,' she said, indicating half the glass with her finger.

'Oh! Half pint,' I exclaimed, nodding happily, proud to have understood. I repeated 'half pint, half pint' mentally to remember it. 'What's your name?' I asked, wanting to know it.

'I'm Nora,' she said with a friendly smile.

Suddenly, I remembered that she had already told me her name earlier, but I hadn't been paying attention, as if my brain had been on pause and had just resumed functioning. I felt a bit embarrassed by my lack of concentration, but Nora smiled naturally, as if nothing had happened.

'Nice to meet you, Nora,' I said, extending my hand to shake hers.

Nora nodded with a smile that suggested she already knew, and gave me a soft, friendly handshake.

The guy at the bar called her and Nora walked away, leaving me alone with my massive beer. To try and disguise the embarrassment that flooded over me, I took a long, careful sip, feeling the cool liquid refreshing my throat. Then, being very careful not to spill any, I picked up my phone again and started looking at photos from other visitors, seeking inspiration to enjoy the place and forget my own clumsiness.