ETHAN:Rowan. I love you. Please call me.
I read the messages with dry eyes. My tears have all run out. I don’t know what I feel. “I love you”, he says. But does he really?
And if I’m really, truly honest with myself, do I love him?
Have Ieverloved him?
I’m saved from having to dive further into my thoughts by the arrival of my food, which is piled precariously on a thin plastic tray, white crockery clinking together. It smells heavenly.
I turn, ready to hunt down a warm corner to curl up in, and lock eyes with Angus, who has already taken up prime position in a tartan armchair across the room. He smirks at me, his dark eyes molten.
Every thought of Ethan evaporates.
My cheeks heat. Penis. Arse.No, Rowan.
I almost trip over my own feet, narrowly avoiding sending the tray flying, my lunchtime goodies shuddering as I clutch them to my chest. I’m hot all over, and I push past another line of hikers entering as fast as I can, flying through the boot-room and back into the bracing air outside.
There. Safe. Tray of food intact. No arrogant, attractive men to ruin my lunch.
Priya and Lila wave at me across the outdoor seating area, wedged comfortably in beside Ewan. This is not the plan. The plan is to sit inside, out of the wind, alone, where I can eat my food in peace, and nurse my possibly broken heart.
But now I’m outside, I can’t ignore them. That would be rude, and given how often the same people seem to be showing up on this walk, I don’t want to make things too uncomfortable for the next few days.
“Nice socks,” Ewan comments as I set my tray down. His cheese and pickle sandwich is neatly laid out in front of him, cut into triangles with the crusts removed.
I glance down, realising I’ve left my shoes and bag inside the boot room. “Wanted to let my feet breathe,” I lie, and change the topic. “You’ve met Priya and Lila then?”
“It was the only table with any space left.” Ewan shoves an entire triangle of sandwich into his mouth and chews.
“Scones!” Priya leans over, inspecting my lunch. “My favourite. Mum, can we have a scone too?”
“If you finish your sandwich, love,” Lila says.
“She’s welcome to half,” I offer. The amount of food I’ve ordered seems a bit ridiculous now, and I doubt I’ll finish. I take a sip of tea and breathe out a happy sigh.
“That’s very kind of you. Did you hear that, Priya?”
“Thanks, Rowan,” Priya says through a mouthful of her own sandwich, eyes fixed on her scone-shaped prize.
“How is your morning?” I ask, swirling my spoon through my soup.
“We saw a Guelder-rose,” Priya says happily. “And a coralroot orchid. And I got to touch a Corsican pine.” She sighs at her hands. “It had such a great texture. Gnarly and soft and spiky.”
Seeing my look of confusion, Lila smiles. “Those are plants. Priya is going through a flower phase, and now she’s moved onto her tree era, haven’t you, honey? We brought her a book on trees for her birthday, and she takes it with her everywhere she goes.”
I find myself thinking that at ten Priya is already more accomplished than I’ve managed by twenty-nine.
“I’m going to be a botanist.”
“I thought you were going to be a violinist?” I ask.
Priya shrugs with the confidence of someone who has never had their dreams shattered. “I’ll do both. Girls can do anything, right?”
“Right!” I high five her.
It isn’t up to me to ruin her optimism. Life will do that quickly enough.
We finish our lunch, and Priya, Lila and I share the scone. The café’s overdone it on the cream and jam so there is plenty to go around, and afterwards we take turns heading to the bathroom to wash our sticky hands. Ewan declines the scone and instead draws a packet of Monster Munch from his bag for his dessert.
