“You?” She chokes on her mussel. “Stay with me?”
“Yeah, well. I figure: London’s full of rich wankers. Probably best place for me to go if I want to be one too.”
“He’s not wrong about that,” I chip in, hiding a smile as Rowan bristles. “What about you, Lila? What’s next for you?”
But instead of answering, Lila’s eyes flick past us, her brows rising in surprise. “What’s going on there then?”
A group of musicians have entered the restaurant, an assortment of instruments on their backs, wearing kilts in various colours, sporrans dangling around their hips. They’re red-cheeked from the wind, making loud, rude jokes at each other as they wait for a table.
“Ah, reckon they’re grabbing some dinner before the ceilidh tonight,” I say without really thinking about it.
“Ceilidh?” Priya asks, eyes round. “What’s that?”
“It’s a sort of barn dance,” I say, trying to think of the best way to explain the chaos and uproar of a ceilidh. “A gathering. They’ll play Gaelic music and a caller walks everyone through the steps.” I remember the ceilidh’s when I was young: me and my brothers slipping through the stamping feet, trying to steal a sip of Da’s ale when he wasn’t looking; my ma’s red, flushed face creased with laughter as Da spun her again and again and again; everyone sweating and twirling, lifted along by the marching beat.
“A dance?” Priya turns to Lila. “Mum! Can we go?”
“You want to movemore? Priya, baby, I can barely feel my feet.”
“But it’s our last night. Please?”
“I’m happy to take her, if you want to rest, Lila,” Rowan offers, and Priya turns her big, beaming smile on her. “What?” she says when the rest of the table stare. “It sounds fun. And Priya’s right. It’s our last night. Might as well go out with a bang!”
“Alright. I’m in.” Lila slams her hand on the table and then pauses. “Angus… How exactly do we go about finding this ceilidh?”
I sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll take you.”
“You will?” It’s Rowan’s turn to look at me with her shining eyes.
Lord help me, when she looks at me like that, I can’t refuse.
“Yes,” I grind out. “Someone has to keep you lot out of trouble.”
“Ewan?” Rowan asks. “What do you say? One final hoorah?”
“Bloody hell. Are my crutches not luminous enough for you? I’m not doing anything else on this ankle. I’m out. Finished.”
“Please, Ewan?” Priya lays a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to dance. But it would be nice if you joined.”
“Don’t you dare use those adorable big eyes of yours against me, Priya.”
“Please.”
“I’m injured!”
“Please.”
“We just walked twenty miles.”
“Please.”
Ewan looks at Lila in desperation. “She’s not going to stop, is she?”
She shakes her head. “It’s unlikely.”
“Can’t you call her off?”
“Please,” Priya says again, dropping her gaze to the table. “It won’t be the same if you’re not there.”
