“Am I hallucinating? So youcansmile. I was beginning to wonder whether your facial muscles still functioned.”
“Very funny,” I mutter, instantly returning to my neutral expression.
“I’m serious. You smiled. This is a historic moment. I should take a picture for future generations.”
She pretends to reach for her phone inside her jacket pocket.
“Don’t.”
“Too late. The image is permanently burned into my memory.”
We keep talking.
At first, it’s forced.
But little by little, something shifts between us.
The questions become easier. The answers more honest.
Mary tells me about her abandoned plans to travel across Europe before taking over the clinic. I tell her about Edinburgh while carefully avoiding dangerous subjects. She asks whether I like the Highlands.
I answer that they’re... different.
She bursts out laughing.
“That is the most diplomatic way I’ve ever heard someone sayI hate this place.”
“I never said I hated the Highlands.”
“You didn’t deny it either.”
Ewan brings our fish and chips. The fish is crispy, the fries perfectly golden and salty.
We eat quietly for a few minutes.
It’s a strangely comfortable silence.
Eventually, Duncan Fraser wanders over to our table with a pint in hand.
“You two seem to be getting along nicely.”
His beer sloshes dangerously as he gestures between us.
Mary doesn’t even look up from her plate.
“Finn’s more interesting than he looks.”
I glance at her, surprised.
She gives me a discreet wink.
Duncan grins broadly.
“That’s always a good sign.”
Then he turns to me, jerking his chin toward Mary.
“McKinnon used to say she was too direct for him.”
