Page 14 of One Night in Edinburgh

I scan the bar for inspiration. ‘I actually fancy a beer.’

‘Coming right up.’ He turns to head back to the bar, then stops and faces me once again. ‘Can I say something?’

‘Of course.’

He takes my hand and leans in towards me, so he doesn’t have to shout. ‘You’re a great laugh… and seriously beautiful. I’m glad you decided to join us.’

A delicious shiver runs up my spine in response and all I can manage is a faint: ‘Me too.’

The second he’s gone, Anna pounces on me. ‘Wowsers. He’s not just into you. He’sintoyou.’

‘Is that not the same thing?’ I slink my arm around her waist.

‘It’s so not the same thing. Honestly, it’s a shame you’ve only just split from Connor, because he’s giving me all the feels.’

‘Meaning?’

‘I think he’s top-quality boyfriend material.’

I put on a sceptical face. ‘You have almost nothing to base that comment on.’

‘My spidey-senses are tingling.’ She waggles her eyebrows at me. ‘That’s enough.’

‘That’s probably more a sign that you’ve drunk too much.’

‘Whatever, “Ms Amateur”. I know shit. Hashtag just saying.’

‘Now I know you’ve had too much to drink,’ I scoff. ‘You only speak like that when you’re two Proseccos short of announcing your undying love for every bloke in whatever bar you’re in. Anyway, whatever this is, it’s only for tonight. To dull the pain and give me a much-needed confidence boost.’

‘You sure?’

‘Deadly.’

‘Fine.’ She gives a resigned shrug. ‘Your call, I guess. But you may regret that decision.’

Jamie returns with two cans of beer and hands one to me, while Anna makes a beeline for Neil and his friends, probably to scope out if any of them are single.

‘Thought we could take them to a table outside, so we don’t have to shout to hear each other,’ Jamie suggests.

‘Sure. The hypothermia hasn’t yet had a chance to take hold, so why not.’

‘That’s the spirt.’ He nudges me playfully.

I take a slug of my drink as we head back outside. ‘Mmm… that’s lovely. Kind of light and citrusy, but with something else.’

‘That’ll be the lime and mango,’ says Jamie. ‘It’s my favourite beer. Much prefer this stuff over the heavier beers these days. Artisan all the way for me – does that make me sound like an arse?’

‘Only a little. It is really good, so I’ll let you off.’

We make our way around the side of the building to an outdoor seating area of picnic-style tables right at the edge of the docks. Some other people have done the same, but it’s still a lot quieter than inside.

There’s another silence between us. This doesn’t seem to faze Jamie, but I’m not quite so at ease. My beer can is suddenly of huge interest to me. I inspect it as if it’s a fascinating piece of art; it’s actually very nicely designed, kind of hip and funky, with abstract images of colourful flying animals. Then my eyes focus on the name of the beer.

‘Serve Minus Pigs? What kind of a name is that for a beer?’

Jamie looks at the can thoughtfully. ‘Would you want pigs in your beer?’

‘No.’

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