Page 54 of One Night in Edinburgh

Not if I can help it.

‘Good to meet you, too, Kayleigh.’ He flashes her one of his dazzling smiles and I swear I see her go slightly weak, before she flounces back down the steps and disappears into the crowd at the market.

‘Sorry about that.’ I offer Jamie a cringing apology. ‘I’m sure you weren’t banking on meeting Cruella de Vil today. It wasn’t part of my plan.’

‘It’s fine.’ He chuckles. ‘She wasn’t that bad. Based on your colourful illustrations of your family, I was expecting much worse.’

‘That was her on her best behaviour.’

‘Ah.’

‘Can you even imagine how she would have reacted if I’d shared that our lunch arrangement is a bag of chips on a bench?’

‘Now that I would have liked to see.’ Jamie grins and greets me properly with a lingering kiss on the lips that leaves me wanting a lot more. ‘Shall we head off?’

Chapter 17

An hour and a half later, we’ve walked around the docks, along to Granton and up to Trinity, returning via the network of pathways on the former railway line. Before we set off, Jamie and I had agreed to eat after our walk to feel like we’ve earned it – a harmonious decision that has made me feel very encouraged about our future relationship potential.

We’ve talked about everything from our childhood experiences and first pets to our political alliances and worldviews, and we seem very much on the same track. Unlike my family, Jamie totally gets my need to make a difference in the world. We’ve also had a minimum of three snog stops, having repeatedly been overcome by the chemistry between us, like there’s some magnetic field sucking us together. All this leads me to think this is going very well indeed. So much so, that I’ve already started to daydream about our wedding: not consciously, my mind just wanders every now and then, and that’s where it seems to end up.

We’re walking hand in hand, tracing the Water of Leith along the final stretch before we arrive back at The Shore. The swans glide regally in the glistening water, while the ducks dabble and shake their tails, eyeing us in the hope that we’ll throw them some food. They’re used to humans here, quite tame and inquisitive.

‘I wish we had something to feed them,’ I say. ‘I’m sure they’re fed all the time, but I always think they look so hungry.’

‘Maybe we can come back with some seeds and oats for them another day, to make sure they’re being looked after. How about that?’

‘That would be great.’

I gaze at Jamie, delighted by what I’ve just heard, while he continues to watch the ducks, unaware of my eyes on him. It wasn’t quite an invite for another date, but it was good enough for me.

Eventually, we walk on and rejoin the road at Sandport Place, crossing the bridge onto the cobbled road that runs parallel to the water.

‘Ready for some food?’ Jamie asks me.

‘Soready,’ I reply. ‘My stomach’s growling at me as if I’m intentionally starving it.’

‘You didn’t have any lunch before you came out?’

‘No.’

‘I’m sorry, you should have said. We could have eaten first.’

‘It’s fine.’ I wave away his concerns. ‘Means I’ll enjoy my chips even more.’

We continue walking and take a right along Bernard Street, which is home to the best chip shop in the area. As we step inside and join the small queue, the smell of fresh deep-fried food wafts around us, causing my stomach to go into full protest with a very loud gurgle-cum-roar. It sounds disturbingly similar to the noises those evil little buggers in the filmGremlinsmake when they’re melting into a pile of putrid slimy stuff. Clutching at my midriff self-consciously, as if that will somehow cease the rather unfortunate and elongated gastro-orchestra, I try to ignore the fact that everyone within three feet of me has heard it.

‘Hungry, love?’ The elderly gentlemen ahead of us in the queue turns and asks with a chuckle. ‘Skip ahead if you want. You clearly need a feed more than me.’

‘I’m OK, thanks.’ I shrink down with mortification as he continues to chortle to himself.

Jamie looks down at me and smiles. ‘I think it’s cute. Suits you.’

‘My stomach sounding like a dying goblin is cute?’ I look up at him incredulously.

‘Everything about you is cute.’

I feel myself turn scarlet at this, and I look away bashfully.

---