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“That was delicious,” Richard enthuses. “Iona and I aren’t too skilled in the kitchen, are we? We can do a few basic dishes, but normally we’re so knackered after work all we have the energy to do is bung a ready meal in the oven.” He pats his stomach. “I could get used to home cooking like that. If you’re not careful, you won’t be able to get rid of us, Elspeth. Why would we want to move into our own place when we can dine like royalty here?”
Although clearly meant as a joke, this comment pokes at something raw inside me. As much as I love Maw, the idea of staying with her indefinitely is stifling. After nine years away, I’m used to my own space. Richard better not get too comfortable.
Brushing aside these thoughts, I stand and gather up the plates. “That really was brilliant, Maw,” I agree. “I’ll go cut us all a slice of cake.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LEWIS
Age eighteen
The full moon casts a silvery glow over the calm waters of Loch Bannock. Iona sits on the creaky old swing, the gentle breeze catching her hair, while I lean against the tree, my gaze drawn to her, as it so often is.
“This may be the last time we hang out here like this,” I say. The loch has been our go-to spot for years now, a place where we can talk for hours and hours, openly sharing our hopes and fears.
“Jesus, Lewis. I’m moving to Glasgow—it’s a three and a half hour drive away. It’s not like I’m never coming back.”
“Aye, you’re right.” I kick a pebble into the water. “But . . . it’ll be different.”
Iona tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “You’re a bundle of laughs tonight. Is this really how you’re going to send me off? And what exactly are you implying—that living in the city will change me?”
I don’t say it, but yes, that is what I think. At university she’ll be mingling with students almost as bright and clever as she is, sharing experiences with them and forming close bonds, while I . . . stay here in Bannock.
She deserves this—she’s worked incredibly hard for it—and I am happy for her. But I’m jealous too. Not of her, but of the new friends she’ll make—people who’ll get to spend time with her while I’m up here missing her.
Iona snaps her fingers and waves at me. “Hello? Are you still there? What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. “Well, actually . . . I heard that, at freshers’ week, free condoms are handed out by the bucket-load because casual sex among students is a given. Do you think that’s true?”
Okay, maybe I’m not just jealous at the thought of Iona gaining some new friends. It’s also crossed my mind that she might end up in bed with some sophisticated intellectual types. Lucky bastards—I’ve had a secret crush on my best mate for years.
“Well, if they’re giving out condoms, I’ll be grabbing as many as I can to help satisfy my insatiable sex drive. Fingers crossed they’ve got some glow-in-the-dark ones—I’ve always wanted to see a guy swing his thing about like a lightsaber.”
My jaw drops open, and I freeze mid-breath. Did she really just say that? Has Iona ever even seen a guy’s “thing” before, let alone a luminescent one?
She bursts out laughing at my stunned expression. Caught between shock and amusement, I scramble for a comeback. “Oh, so that’s what girls mean when they say they’re looking for a guy who lights up the room.”
“Exactly! Who needs a night light when you’ve got a glowing sword under the covers?”
“Shit, I’ve been wasting my time with chocolates and flowers. This is going to revolutionise my dating game. Glad we had this chat.”
“Remember, young padawan, it’s not enough just to have a lightsaber—you must also know how to wield it. Or as Yoda would say, ‘Know how to wield it you must.’” She even attempts the accent.
I grin. “Right, well, as much as I’m enjoying all the penis puns, how about a toast?” I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a flask.
“What’s in there?”
“Whisky. Ladies first?”
She takes it. “What’s the toast going to be? Oh, wait, I’ve got an idea. May my love life be full of light and my partners’ sabers forever bright.”
“Great, you’ve officially ruined Star Wars for me—I’ll never be able to watch it the same way again. Have you already been drinking?”
“Nope, I’m completely sober.”
“Well, that’s worrying.”
“I think it’s the nerves. I’m leaving tomorrow, and I’m feeling a bit jittery. It’s making me babble.”
