Page 32 of One Night in Edinburgh

Anna scoffs. ‘And what’s that?’

‘A real connection with someone.’

‘You think you’re a better judge?’ She nods her head towards Connor.

‘Anna. That’s so out of order.’ I fix her with a disapproving stare.

‘No offence, Connor,’ says Anna. ‘But I need to make my point.’

‘None taken,’ he says through a mouthful of French toast. ‘I get it. Though in Steph’s defence, Iwasconfused and in denial for a long time.’

‘Fair enough, but surely you can see that Steph’s plan is totally bonkers.’

Connor considers his words carefully. ‘I think it’s highly creative… but unfortunately unlikely to work.’

‘Hey,’ I complain. ‘Why are you taking her side?’

‘I’m not. But I am thinking about the logistical side of things. I know my way around stock production because of my job, and I can also imagine how expensive the design side of things would be.’

‘Hmmph,’ I glower at him for failing to support my master plan.

Connor smiles at me affectionately. ‘Stephy, in some ways it’s genius. Having been made to watch many,manyromcoms with you over the years, I can appreciate the romantic element to it, and it’s an idea that definitely belongs in a movie. It’s just… unrealistic.’

‘Well, we won’t know for sure till I check it out, will we?’ I pull out my phone and google the details I’m looking for. ‘I’m going to call them, right now.’

Anna facepalms, while Connor winces. Ignoring them, I get up from my seat, and step outside into the icy gust. The scenic view in front of me is tainted by a threatening dark sky and ominous-looking, choppy water. Quite a contrast to the beautiful days we had around New Year. I tap on the contact number on the web page and put the phone to my ear. A gruff male voice answers after three rings.

‘Links Brewery, how can I help?’

‘Oh, hi. I have… an enquiry.’

‘Sure, love. What can I do for you?’

‘I was wondering how much it would cost to do a “milk carton” style campaign with your company.’

There’s a short silence. ‘Sorry, love, I’m not sure I understand. What are you looking for?’

‘A person. I’m trying to track someone down, and I’d like to do an appeal using your beer cans. You know, sort of like the milk carton appeals they used to do in America?’

‘Would you not be better contacting the police?’ The man sounds perplexed. ‘I’m sure there’s a whole department dedicated to missing persons.’

‘No, no. It’s not someone who’s missing,’ I clarify. ‘It’s someone I want to track down.’

‘And you think putting their face on our beer cans would help you find them?’

‘Yes, but I only want to do it with one specific beer: the one called Serve Minus Pigs. And it’s not their photo I want to put on the cans, it’s a message. I’m trying to find a guy I met at Hogmanay.’

There’s another silence, then a stifled snigger comes through the receiver. ‘Ahem… right… you do realise that would cost thousands, and it would be weeks before we’d have the stock out there with the new cans. Your boy will likely have found himself another woman by then.’

I feel myself flush with embarrassment as disappointment floods through me, alongside a flicker of irritation at the way this man is speaking to me.

‘I see. Well, I guess I’ll have to come up with some other plan then.’

‘Sorry, love. Best of luck with your search.’

I try to ignore the hooting laughter and delighted shout of: ‘Hey, Malky, you’ll never guess what that was about—’ which pierces my ear before the line goes dead. Stepping back inside, Anna and Connor look at me expectantly as I sit back down again, and resume eating my breakfast.

‘Well?’ Anna prods me with her elbow.

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