As winter still reigns on Rum, a fading Fiesta and a newborn reveal how easily a mother’s own battery runs low — and how vital it is to pause and recharge, says Elle Duffy.

They say Rum is where cars go to die. 

It’s not said unkindly. It’s simply a fact of island life, and my own island is no exception. The Isle of Rum is beautiful, but it is also exposed. Salt-laden winds barrel in from the sea. Rain arrives sideways. Cars sit outside year-round, absorbing it all. Metal rusts. Electrics corrode. Batteries give up in the cold.

Of course, I didn’t know I’d live here when I picked my shiny white Ford Fiesta in a car garage in the east end of Glasgow two years ago. Not two hours after passing my driving test, I was sitting in the dealer’s office, pen in hand and a fresh set of car keys in the other. My beautiful car, built for tarmac roads and loud music through open windows on sunny days, was mine. 

I used it to commute from my city centre flat to my city centre job. It knew nothing but smooth roads and gentle braking for the first year of my ownership, its interior always........

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