Arriving at Indian Island

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As I sit in my first-class carriage I read my letter multiple times in anticipation of my arrival to Indian Island.

Dearest Lawrence . . . such years since I heard anything of you . . . must come to Indian Island . . . the most enchanting place . . . so much to talk over . . . old days . . . communion with Nature . . . bask in sunshine . . . 12:40 from Paddington . . . meet you at oakbridge . . . ever Constance Culmington.

 I haven't seen Constance since I last saw her 8 years ago in Italy and am very excited to catch up. I can see her as the type of person that would buy an island like Indian Island and surround herself with mystery.

The island is cut off from the mainland and is very difficult to access during storms. This scares me a little bit as I have just found out that I am going to be spending my time here with more people than just me and Constance. There are nine others all on the island for varrying reasons.