Tonight is our last one at this house. A cart belonging to Mr. Cameron’s brother is calling for us at sunrise and will transport us to Dundee, where we will board the omnibus bound for Thurso. How will it be, I wonder, to be so close and yet so far from Wick? I know part of me will want to run home and see my family, but I cannot bear the thought of being turned away as an outcast.
I have given the house a good cleaning and left Mrs. Adams a note. Then I did a wicked thing! I took some of her monogrammed stationary and wrote myself a glowing reference, in my best handwriting. I signed her name with a flourish and sealed it into an envelope. It went into the hidden compartment of my kist box. I’ll put this journal into it as well. All locked up, it will keep until there is time and opportunity to open it again. Yesterday I posted a note to my cousin Heather to tell them to look out for me. I will load all our belongings into the pram, which nicely folds down and will travel on top of the omnibus.
Tomorrow I will lock up the house and put the key in the neighbour’s mailbox with a note. Thank goodness the weather has stayed mild and the little snow we have had melted some time ago, so I am hopeful the roads will stay dry and clear all the way to Thurso. Then it can snow to its heart’s content, for we will be there for some time.
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