Aces and Knaves

over to her seat and slammed down the armrest. We didn't touch each other for the rest of the flight.
    ***
    "Watch out!" Arrow screamed, and I slammed on the brakes of our red Nissan Primera rental car to avoid hitting the truck that was sweeping through the roundabout from the right. That was how I learned the rule of roundabouts: traffic on the circle has the right-of-way.
    The Airport Posthouse Hotel, where we were going to spend our first night in the UK, was right across the street from the Glasgow Airport, but in order to drive there we had to follow the circular road and negotiate three roundabouts.
    "I think it's the next exit," Arrow said, intently watching the signs.
    Now that I was on the roundabout I needed something more definite than "I think" but I attempted to activate my turn signal. I turned on the windshield wipers instead. There was a learning curve here. I had never driven on the left side of the road before nor shifted with my left hand.
    After more roundabouts and only a couple of wrong turns we finally made it to the parking lot of the hotel, which we could have walked to in two minutes, and I thankfully pulled into the only empty spot I saw.
    "Tomorrow maybe you can get out of second gear," Arrow said, smugly, and I would have hit her if I hadn't still had a hands-off policy.
    "Tomorrow you can drive," I said.
    We checked in and went to our adjoining rooms. We took showers and changed clothes; Arrow didn't call me to zip her up. A half-hour later we met in the hotel lobby.
    "We need to get our bodies on local time as soon as possible," I said, "so we shouldn't eat dinner until at least five."
    "What time is it now?"
    I glanced at my watch. "About 3:30."
    "I'm all mixed up," Arrow said. "I'm tired but I don't know if I can sleep. I'm hungry but I don't know if I can eat. What time is it in my head?"
    "Don't try to figure it out. Let's take a walk."
    We went outside and walked to the street. Arrow started to cross while a car was coming and I had to grab her arm.
    "You have to look to the right here," I said as she shook me off.
    A cold wind penetrated our sweaters so we re-entered the airport terminal building. We strolled past some shops and up a flight of stairs. On the second floor there were a bunch of fast-food restaurants.
    "We can eat breakfast here," I said. "These places are a lot cheaper than breakfast at the hotel." I had temporarily forgotten that we were on an expense account.
    "Everybody talks funny," Arrow said, listening intently to scattered bits of conversation. "And some of the words on the signs are different. I haven't seen the word 'biscuit' used in years."
    "I think that's their word for 'cookie.'"
    "So the Cookie Monster from Sesame Street would be the Biscuit Monster here."
    "I guess so. And they say 'knickers' instead of 'panties.'"
    Arrow gave me a sarcastic smile and said, "Thanks. I'll remember that when I go shopping."
    When we crossed the street to return to the hotel she took my arm. Even if it was for safety reasons I understood it as a peace offering and decided to return to my usual congenial self.
    We finished dinner by six. By that time Arrow was completely beat and I wasn't far away. We retired to our hotel rooms. I watched television for a while and then tried to go to sleep. Thinking about Arrow and my father together made sleep difficult. Was that because I wanted her for myself?

    Chapter 21 WICK
    We could have taken the train from Glasgow, but I had said that driving would give us more freedom. I should have held my tongue. The "A" roads are supposed to be the best roads in the UK next to the "M" roads (limited-access motorways like the good old LA freeways) but soon after leaving Glasgow on A82 we encountered seven miles of hell along the west bank of mythic Loch Lomond.
    Between the cliff rising on the left and the stone wall on the right that separated us from the lake shore was a winding road so narrow that two cars could barely pass each other, not to mention the big rigs that kept lumbering by.
    "You're going off the road!" became Arrow's favorite shout as I kept edging the car to the left to avoid the imminent collisions that were constantly looming.
    At one point the local engineers even acknowledged that the road was too narrow for two cars and stop lights were set up so that traffic could only move in one direction at a time.
    North of Loch Lomond the road widened and I breathed easier. Arrow relinquished her death grip on the door handle.