It’s south of here but not much, it pays £20,000 a year and there is no way to spend any of it…
I visited this place once, years ago. A long boat ride out to it and you have to be back before sunset. Nobody gets to stay the night – except the manager. Next to the creepy ruined abbey and among the relics of the war years (pillboxes and tunnels, mostly). Sounds lovely. Think of the book-writing inspiration! Especially at night, when the wind moans across the gaping holes in those ancient walls, and howls to rouse the spirits of soldiers in the tunnels and trenches. At night, when there is nobody to call… Actually, there is a second manager on site and I’d probably turn them into a gibbering wreck with our first evening’s conversation. I’d keep doing that until they sent one I like.
If it had a reliable internet connection I’d be right in there. Unfortunately that is a big downside. What’s the point of having the time and the peace to write and write and write if you can’t show it to anyone for eight months? There’s no postal service so no way to send books off to publishers other than online, and that’s not reliable on that island.
But then, if it was reliable, ‘Rebecca’ would be three miles away from it. That’s even scarier.