‘I wanted to ask you something that I was thinking about … like, um, randomly. That job – the one in Scotland that you didn’t want.’
‘Loch Dorn,’ she says. ‘I never thanked you for calling them.’
‘Well, yes, but I wanted to ask you why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why you wanted to go there? And then why you suddenly didn’t? I mean, other than Cristian, of course.’
Heather sighs and there’s another long silence down the line.
‘I dunno. Do you ever want to go somewhere and simply start all over again?’
‘Um, yeah. All the time,’ I laugh. ‘It’s me, remember.’
‘I wanted to see if I could make it work …’ Her voice trails off, and I’m not sure if she’s talking about Scotland or about taking off to Italy. ‘I think I’m lonely, Birdy. Like a big part of me is missing.’
Bloody Cristian again.
‘We all want to be loved,’ I say.
‘Yeah, and someone to be proud of us.’
‘I’m proud of you,’ I say. ‘I can’t believe all you’ve achieved.’
‘I know,’ she says, but I can hear in her voice it is not enough. It’s her father and her mother that she wants to be proud of her.
‘Well, if you mean your mum and dad, I’m sure they are beyond proud of everything you’ve done with your life,’ I try. ‘If there is a heaven, they would be that dull couple forcing everyone to watch home videos of you.’
‘It’s a nice thought. Better to have loved and lost, and all that …’
I’m not sure if we’re talking about Cristian now or her parents, or what.
‘You’ll never lose me.’
‘Well,thatI know,’ she replies, sighing. ‘Sorry, I’ve just woken up and I’m feeling a bit morose. Must be coming on. How are you?’
‘Oh. Me? Don’t worry about me,’ I say, as I try to squash down the rising guilt. ‘My latest and possibly worst fuck-up is a story for another day.’
‘God, what’s happened?’ Heather says quickly.
‘It’s a story for over a pint, in London, or wherever we next see each other, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she says. ‘I think I need that promise.’
‘I absolutely promise,’ I say, determined to tell her the entire story. Once I’ve made a success of it, obviously. Then perhaps she’ll be able to forgive me.
‘I love you,’ she says.
‘Me too,’ I reply. ‘Oh, fuck!’ I say, hearing the cellar door open as Roxy appears in the doorway above me.
‘First table is about to arrive,’ she whispers.
‘I have to go!’
‘Okay,’ Heather says warmly. ‘Speak soon.’
I spring up the stairs two at a time and straighten my shirt. I stand up straight, shoulders back, and push through the kitchen doors, pausing momentarily to smile at James as he nods back at me. I’m trying to ignore the building excitement I’m feeling about our loomingcooking lesson, but it’s hard when every time we catch each other’s eye I see James’s excitement too. Except today. Today, we’ve got other things to focus on.
