Page 48 of Birds of a Feather

‘But what if I hate the book?’ I said, picking up one of the parcels. ‘It would be a complete waste of money.’ I set the book down again.

‘But what if you don’t?’ he asked, picking up the parcel and handing it back to me. One side of his mouth inched up to create a lopsided grin that rendered me completely incapable of forming a counterargument.

‘I mean, look what happened when you bought a lotto ticket on a whim,’ he continued. ‘It led you here.’

He had a point.

‘Fine, then,’ I said with mock surrender. ‘Let’s see what the universe has in store for my next literary adventure.’

We each picked up a brown parcel and handed over two pounds to the shopkeeper.

‘After you,’ Nick said, gesturing for me to open my book.

I tore open the brown paper wrapping to reveal a slightly tattered copy of Falling for the Highlander – a spectacularly cheesy-looking romance novel.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ I performed an exaggerated eye roll as I turned the book around so Nick had an unobstructed view of the cover. It depicted a topless man wearing a kilt, who was gazing seductively over his shoulder towards the viewer, his muscly back glistening in the moonlight.

‘I wonder how many pages the author dedicates to discussing the size of his sporran,’ I said, feigning seriousness.

Nick laughed loudly. ‘Well, if I’d known the universe wanted you to enjoy some romance with a Scott, I would have worn my kilt,’ he said eagerly. ‘I’ve got Scottish heritage, you know. We’ve even got a family tartan.’

I replayed his words in my head to ensure I had interpreted them correctly. Was Nick flirting with me?

‘Your turn,’ I said, unable to ignore the fact that my heart rate had quickened at the prospect he was.

He gently removed each piece of sellotape in an attempt to build suspense.

‘Oh goodie,’ he said, turning the book to face me. ‘I’ve been looking for a new hobby.’

‘Toilet Paper Origami: a step-by-step, DIY guide to perfecting fancy folds,’ I read aloud through laughter. ‘What the hell is the universe trying to tell you with that book? When your life turns to shit, make sure you fashion your three-ply into a flower?’

‘What I want to know,’ Nick said, ‘is what you’re meant to do if you are a scruncher?’

We continued laughing as we stowed our books in my bag and set off to meet Gerry and Gran for lunch.

~

We arrived at the pub and ordered a couple of beers while we waited for Gran and Gerry to arrive.

‘There they are,’ Nick announced when they appeared though the door.

He stood as they arrived at the table, in what I assumed was an unconscious show of good manners.

‘I was worried you’d been mistaken for an antique in one of the shops and snapped up by a collector,’ he said jovially to Gerry as they sat down.

‘Ohhhh,’ she groaned, clutching her heart in mock offence.

Nick hugged her warmly.

‘Did you find anything interesting, Elise?’ Nick asked.

‘A couple of bits and pieces,’ she said coyly. ‘Just doing my bit for the local economy. Service to King and Country, and all that.’

‘I’m sure whatever you bought here can’t be as weird as your most recent purchase at home,’ I said.

Gran scoffed.

‘Dare I ask?’ Gerry asked cautiously.

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