Page 15 of Saving Nessie
Lachlan packed up the remaining cake and trudged back up the hill.
Later that morning, The Lucky Teapot welcomed its first customers of the day. Helen and Donald took their usual spot by the window and Donald ordered a fruit scone. The smell of smoked fish wafted from the Crawfords’ breakfast while they squinted over a local newspaper together. A lone hiker had dropped in for a hot coffee to break up her morning ramble. It looked set to be a normal, quiet day.
And then Mrs Crawford picked up the newspaper to better read something in the middle. The front page flashed bold and bright, catching Lachlan’s attention. He dropped the tray he was carrying. Two full teacups and a fruit scone smashed onto the floor.
LOCH NESS MONSTER SIGHTED, the headline declared in stark, unmissable letters.
Underneath it: a full colour image of Cam, slightly blurred, but large and unmistakably monster-shaped hurtling through green foliage.
‘I say,’ he distantly heard Donald say behind him. ‘That wasn’t my scone, was it? Are you all right, lad?’
‘Fine,’ Lachlan replied faintly. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
Chapter Six
Loch Ness became very busy after that.
The news snowballed rapidly. Initially, it was dismissed by the locals. Who had the time to pay attention to another hoax, after all? The Loch Ness Monster was normal background noise.
But then the news crews came to set up in Drumnadrochit and Fort Augustus. Right alongside them were the internet influencers, the social media darlings of new-age journalism. Then the buses of eager tourists descended like a swarm, dropping money left, right and centre for a chance to spot the legend. And suddenly every local business owner became anavidbeliever in the Loch Ness Monster if it meant they might sell an extra keyring, or boat tour, or get their face on television.
Lachlan was grateful The Lucky Teapot was in such a remote spot, but even his lonely hillside soon became an overflow destination for amateur monster hunters. Within a week he was driven to erect a sign by his pier: ‘Private Property, No Trespassing’. He’d had to shoo people away from it several times on his way to see Cam. Once, they even had a close call with a hopeful kayaker who intended to launch from the jetty. Lachlan had shouted at him like a maniac about disrespecting residents’ rights, just to provide a distraction while Cam slipped away.
All the while, it became harder and harder to meet Cam without the risk of being seen. Lachlan reluctantly restricted his visits to only once in the middle of each night. There were too many people holding night-time vigils for the legendary Loch Ness Monster, camping out on the shoreline.
Lachlan was surprised—and perturbed—when he recognised the face of one of these amateur detectives among his new clientele. It was the bright rainbow hoodie she wore that twigged his memory. He learned her name was Tillie Cooper, and she was the girl he’d spoken to on the day Cam was dragged into the loch.
Tillie started to show up regularly at the Teapot. She made a habit of loudly and enthusiastically praising its isolated location as an ideal place from which to spot a shy monster. One day she waltzed in with a large cardboard placard printed with the words ‘Save Nessie’ in bold ink, and Lachlan snapped.
‘What’s that?’ he asked icily, setting down her breakfast order with more force than necessary.
Tillie didn’t appear to notice his mood and was still busy tapping on her phone while she replied. ‘It’s our campaign slogan. To save the Loch Ness Monster.’
This reply was so peculiar that Lachlan almost forgot to be irritated. ‘What are you saving it from?’
Tillie finally gave him her full attention, speaking seriously. ‘The media. All these people and cameras are damaging the delicate ecosystem of Nessie’s home. People need to understand. They’re putting Nessie’s life in jeopardy by disturbing her habitat.’
Lachlan’s gaze travelled to her phone. ‘Didn’t you post a photo of the creature on the internet?’
‘Yes. But that was to raise awareness.’
The earnest look on her face told Lachlan she had zero grasp on the irony of her actions.
‘And how many people are part of your campaign?’ Lachlan asked faintly. The last thing he wanted was a band of noisy protesters marching up his hill.
‘My boyfriend and me.’ Tillie blushed self-consciously and added, ‘But I have a lot of followers online. We’re just getting off the ground. It’s a grassroots movement, you know?’
She rummaged in her bag and produced aSave Nessiepin badge. ‘Here!’ She thrust it at Lachlan, who accepted purely out of polite instinct. ‘We’d love to have your support!’
Lachlan caught Donald’s eye across the café. His raised eyebrow perfectly communicated that he thought Lachlan’s newest patrons were several screws short of a toolbox.
Thankfully, the rest of the Teapot’s regulars paid the interlopers little mind, and tolerated the fluctuating presence of wannabe Nessie hunters with good-natured disinterest.
But, as more strangers trekked mud and misconceptions across his threshold, Lachlan’s nerves began to fray. If he had to hear one more person shriek, ‘I see Nessie!’ from the Teapot’s windows… not only making his heart jump with fear (only for it to turn out to be another floating log) but also making his heart ache that couldn’t see therealNessie precisely because of the shrieker’s presence…
Meredith wasn’t helping his mood, either.
‘Shouldn’t Cam have worked out how to transform by now?’ she asked worriedly while washing dishes in the Teapot’s kitchen, a fortnight on from Cam’s Redcap mishap.
