Train Tickets & Trysts
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About this ebook
The companion novella to Cougars & Castles, Train Tickets & Trysts can also be read as a standalone.
Ellie Forsythe
Hi! I'm Ellie Forsythe and I'm a chicklit writer. I found the genre in an airport on a trip and fell in love. I could hardly think of writing anything else and I love to base my books in Scotland.
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Train Tickets & Trysts - Ellie Forsythe
Train Tickets & Trysts
By Ellie Forsythe
Copyright 2013 Ellie Forsythe
Published by Black Shire Publishing
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover art by Abigail Fero
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Excerpt: Teacups & Troubles
Chapter 1
Penny stepped out into the chilly Scottish air and shivered. She pulled her coat tighter around her body, fluffing up the pink scarf around her neck. The lingering smell of old grease wafted from the pub behind her. She shot it one last look, spotting her mother and her gran through the front window. Waving, she smiled at her mum and then turned, setting off into the dimly lit city of Edinburgh.
She walked slowly through the streets, winding her way back towards the hotel. Everything was lit by the moon and the yellow streetlamps, catching on the cobbles of the Old Town. Though it was her first time in Scotland’s capitol, Penny had a rough idea of how to get back to the hotel and a map tucked into her bag in case she got lost.
Penny was looking for a bar to stop in on the way back. Though her mum and gran only wanted to sleep, she wanted something a little more exciting. After all, this trip was counting as a week of her holiday time too. But every pub and bar she passed on her walk, Penny found a reason to discount. She wanted something specific.
Keeping a tight hold on the bag at her side, Penny’s hands were cold even in their velvet gloves. I’m a Londoner,
Penny sternly muttered to herself. Scotland doesn’t scare me.
She wished it was true. Though many people found London intimidating and full of danger, Penny thought it was charming. She tucked her scarf more firmly under the collar of her coat. As she passed from the Old Town into the New Town, the streets got wider and the buildings looked cleaner.
She could see their hotel in the distance and she headed towards it, disappointed that she hadn’t found what she was looking for. But as she turned the last street, across from the entrance to her hotel, she saw it: a trendy bar.
It was well-lit and decent looking, more than could be said of any she’d passed thus far. It was a Tuesday night so there wasn’t a bouncer at the door and she walked in with no need to pull out her license. The bar was in an old, stone building, something the designer had made good use of. Stepping through a battered, wooden door, Penny got her first glimpse of the inside.
It was under lit with purple mood lighting, making the antique stools and chandeliers look out of place. The whole space was a mix of old and new, exposed stone walls behind sleek, black booths. She relaxed. It felt like any of the bars she went to back home.
Because it was a work night, the bar was half full of people in varying states of business dress. Some had shed suit jackets, others wore ties undone around their necks. There were a few small groups casually dressed but almost everyone looked like they’d come straight from work. It was a crowd she would have fit into if she hadn’t been on holiday.
Penny slid onto the empty barstool at the edge of the bar, wishing she had her suit on instead of the skinny jeans and knee-high boots she was wearing. There was a man two stools down from her but aside from that, her half of the stretch of bar was empty. Penny settled herself on her stool, trying to get comfortable on the slick, puffy cushion.
What can I get you?
a woman behind the bar asked. She was dressed in the female version of the kilt, just in case any tourist forgot where they were, and an easy, friendly smile on her face. Penny’s smile loosened into a genuine one in return.
Malibu and Coke, please,
Penny ordered.
I’ll buy it for you,
someone said from her left.
Penny turned right into the pleased, leering smile of the much older man two stools down. While there were many situations in life that Penny was uncomfortable with, this was not one of them. She’d long ago learned to handle strangers in bars.
Smiling politely, she shook her head. No, thank you. I can get it.
She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her purse and a few pound coins. She was ready to pay when the bartender came back with her order. Penny sipped her drink through the small straw provided and spun around to people watch.
Loosening her scarf and the tie around her coat, Penny scanned through the groups and crowds. A quick look at her watch told her it was still early. But because it was in the middle of the week, she doubted many more people would show up. This was as big as the crowd would get. The coke fizzled in the back of her nose and she scrunched it as she looked around.
Her eyes were naturally drawn to the loudest group, a bunch of men tucked in the corner of the bar, gathered around a tall table. They were almost uniformly wearing slacks and buttoned up shirts, ties loosened around their necks. A mix of ages and ethnicities, she couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about so loudly.
They’re here just about every night,
the man on her left said. He’d caught her watching them with interest. His voice was raised just enough that she could clearly make out the words. His accent was duller, more Anglicized than the other Scottish accents she’d heard on the trip thus far.
She gazed at him over the top of her drink, wondering how to discourage further conversation with him. His silver hair was swept back from his forehead, a cashmere sweater hiding an Oxford shirt, only the collar peeking out. He was far too old for her though he didn’t look like he would agree.
Oh?
she said in as bland a voice as she could muster. She didn’t want to be rude, after all.
As though encouraged by the single syllable, he spun to face her fully, one elbow propped up on the bar. He swished the scotch on the rocks in his hand. Penny could feel the sting of the smell even from two seats away. She’d never enjoyed whiskey.
They work up the road at an oil company,
he told her. Think very highly of themselves.
Penny hummed noncommittally, turning her eyes back towards the group of men he’d been talking about. She could definitely pick out some cocky attitudes in the small crowd. Almost as if the men had heard them talking, one by one, they turned to look in Penny’s direction. She glanced away, faintly embarrassed.
Better watch out, here one comes,
her unwanted companion muttered before turning back towards the bar.
He was right. After much nudging and sniggering, Penny could see one of the younger men had been goaded into something. And he was headed right for her. She had plenty of time to look him over as he wound his way around the chairs