3.

Hamish was growing impatient. I always liked the cute little horn sounds on those cute little foreign cars, but Hamish had a way of putting an edge to it. He was already further off his normal route than ever. Her mother had spent nearly an hour giving him directions to the farm and now it was growing dark and he was getting nervous. He knew he was in an area populated by faeries in the peat bogs and he had no interest in becoming the subject of stories told by children under the covers on dark and stormy nights.

I had thoughts of slipping him a couple quid and sending him on his way, but what was the use? She was betrothed and I had to meet with the crew of avid but amateur sailors I had met in a rather seedy Clydeside bar in Glasgow for a trip home on their sloop rig.

The last thing they needed was a heartbroken, love sick passenger. So.. buck up, matey. There's more fish in the sea. It's better to have loved and lost than..... Foreign women are nothing but trouble. Hell, they can't even talk right. Floor it Hamish, I got a boat to catch.