Page 100 of When London Snow Falls

“Em, how’s that practical? It’s going to take me all day to get to Edinburgh. Plus, the train’s going to be too damn expensive without the advance ticket.” She should know, more than anyone else, about how hard I save money to send to her.

“Are you telling me youdon’twant to see Ben?” She peers at me over her mug, her fingers carefully wrapped around the top. She sips.

She’s ruthless.

“No.” I frown. “I want to.”

“Then go. Take my car if you want.”

“No, no. I can’t,” I say hurriedly, shaking my head. “You need that for Carys and your work.”

“I can use Gran’s.”

I draw in a deep breath. “You’re sure this is a good idea?”

“More than. It’s a worthy cause. The only thing I expect are updates. Frequently and often.” Her grin is radiant. “I’m invested now.”

Despite myself, and my nerves, I laugh. “’Kay. Fine. If this goes pear-shaped…”

“Unlikely. I’m into probabilities and that would be very low, babe. Go.”

Now or never.

“I’ll pack and call a taxi to take me to the station. I can’t take your car all the way to Scotland. I don’t know when I’d be able to get it back to you. I’ll take the train.”

When the taxi comes half an hour later, after I’ve kissed Em and Carys goodbye, I slide into the back, watching them stand together on the front step to see me off. Wind tousles their hair.

“Don’t forget to text him that you’re on your way!” Emily can’t keep from shouting dating tips into the wind.

Laughing, I nod and blow them a kiss, shutting the door. And I’m off.

Chapter Fifty-One

Getting to Edinburgh from Swansea is no mean feat. With the taxi and waiting at the station, it takes ten hours and two trains to get into Waverley Station by 8:00 p.m. Overhead, its high glass ceiling soars. It’s colder here—a lot colder, more than cold enough for snow, ice, and the rest. I flip up the collar of my black wool overcoat and wrap my gold scarf against the biting wind that waits outside.

We exchanged texts. Ben knows I’m coming, but there’s the not insignificant fact that he’s performing right now. After a round of debating whether I should meet him at the venue or elsewhere, Ben suggested at his home, swearing off any afterparties. I break into a cold sweat at the thought of meeting his mother alone, but Ben’s provided assurances that his mum is excited to meet me, which helps put me a little more at ease.

Getting out of the latest taxi, I tell my nerves to fuck off. I ring the bell at Ben’s family flat in one of the grand Georgian sandstone tenement buildings in Stockbridge. And Ben’s mother answers.

And then I’m standing at the doorway, met by Ben’s mum. She’s younger than I expected, with black glossy hair flowing down her shoulders. She’s in a striped knit jumper, and I swear I recognize the wool from Ben’s stash.

“And you must be Charlie. I’m Dani. I’ve heard so much about you. Come on in—it’s freezing out here.” Dani stands about to my shoulder. Tiny but fierce. I get a better understanding of Ben already. She ushers me in and gives me a big hug, which helps settle my nerves, much to my surprise. I didn’t expect such a warm welcome.

I’m dying inside though to imagine what he’s said about me. Or God—how horrible my family was to him. Will she grill me while I’m here waiting for Ben? He wouldn’t hear of a hotel and insisted we stay here tonight.

“Thanks so much for having me. I don’t want to impose.”

She waves me off, gesturing at wall hooks where a collection of coats hangs. “Nonsense. Here’s a place for your things. And you can leave your bag here for now. We’ll deal with that later.”

“Thanks for having me here before Ben gets in,” I tell her, grateful. “It’s been a long day. But…I needed to see my boyfriend.”

And fuck, it feels good to say that. I can’t help but grin.

“I understand.” Her smile is broad, so much like Ben’s that it lets loose the riot of butterflies having their own afterparty in my guts. When my stomach rumbles, Dani laughs. “Let’s get you something to eat, then.”

Before long, I’ve shed a few layers, though still chilled from the train journey and the cold, leaving my gold scarf on over my black jumper. Everything’s so casual here that it wouldn’t be seen as an odd thing to do. His mum insists on feeding me soup from dinner, which is delicious. This feels like a proper home, and Dani’s putting me at ease.

“So, Charlie. Ben tells me you’re a musician too. And that you’re going to uni for literature and that you met at the coffee shop where you work. And that you have a little one that you were just out to see in Wales.”

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