Page 76 of One Night in Edinburgh

‘Yes, please.’ I pull out a chair at the table and sit down.

‘So, how are you feeling now?’ Connor potters around, re-heating my dinner and passing me cutlery and a glass of water.

‘Um… I don’t really know.’ I glance at my phone. ‘Think I’m still half-asleep. Sad, I guess – that it didn’t work out.’

‘That’s to be expected. Even with my situation, when you and I split up, I felt gutted.’

‘Because you thought we’d lost our friendship.’ I say this as a confirmation rather than a question.

‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘Gutted that I couldn’t love you in the way that I wanted to. It was weird. I guess there was still some confusion there, but I felt like I was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to me. Doesn’t make much sense.’

‘Actually… I kind of get what you’re saying. I had that same feeling earlier – like a feeling of regret that the two of us are not together, despite the fact that it makes zero sense. I think it’s because you’re the person I trust most in the world and I know you’d never hurt me. It’s so inconvenient that we can’t spend the rest of our lives together.’

Connor’s mouth spreads into a grin. ‘We’re a bit messed up, aren’t we?’

‘Maybe.’ I shrug. ‘Or we’re both scared of being out in this big bad world alone after years of facing everything together. Thanks for looking after me, Connor. I really do appreciate it.’

‘I’ll always be here for you. You know that.’

I eat my spaghetti while Connor chats away, filling me in on his romantic liaisons – which I’ve asked about. I’m pleased to hear that he’s arranged a first date with Lukas. It’s just for coffee, and Connor’s decided to keep it short by making plans to meet his mum straight after, which makes sense. He’s obviously still being cautious after New Year.

‘I’m feeling positive about it,’ he says. ‘And I do think Anna’s done a great job of weeding out the “hell nos”.’

‘That’s good.’ I’m amused by this description. ‘Take things at a pace that works for you, and make sure you’re totally comfortable with how things progress. I wish I’d done a bit of that rather than diving in headfirst and getting majorly burned.’

‘You went in with an open heart. No one can blame you for that. It’s a shame we have to be so on our guard when it comes to finding “the one”.’ Connor nods at my phone. ‘I assume you still haven’t heard from Jamie?’

‘I haven’t switched it back on yet.’

Reaching across, I press the power button. We both watch in anticipation as my phone searches for a signal then bursts to life with a backlog of messages that have built up. My heart quickens and I feel a momentary blaze of nervous anticipation that Jamie might have been in touch. But this is quickly doused when I all I find on my home screen is more WhatsApp chat between my family – picking at the carcass of my now dead relationship – and a couple of texts from Anna checking I’m OK.

‘Nothing,’ I confirm miserably to Connor.

‘It’s only been a few hours.’ He puts a comforting hand on mine. ‘I know Anna’s already written Jamie off, but I haven’t. Not yet. I know how complicated life can be, especially having been through something difficult myself so recently. Jamie needs to think things through. If he feels the way about you that he claims to, he may decide that sharing his secrets with you is worth the risk.’

‘You think?’ I feel a little surge of hope at Connor’s words.

‘All I’m saying is it’s a possibility. And if he doesn’t, he wasn’t the one for you, Stephy.’

Chapter 24

The days following my breakup with Jamie feel long and empty – which is strange in a way, given I wouldn’t ordinarily have seen him during the week anyway. I trudge to work and lose myself in the fundraiser preparations, and then trudge home again. Jamie doesn’t contact me, and it becomes clear that he’s not going to.

By Wednesday lunchtime, I can’t take it any more. I feel like my heart’s been ripped out and left to slowly waste away. A bit like one of the more gruesome scenes in another crime thriller series Anna’s now got me watching. As I attempt to chat away to Mrs Carmichael, who’s calling to double check her complex dietary requirements will be attended to at the fundraiser, I feel my mask slipping. Before I know it, I’m swiping away rogue tears, my voice quivering as I desperately try to keep my emotions under control.

‘Steph, dear. Are you all right?’ Mrs Carmichael asks. ‘You sound like you’re upset.’

‘Oh… I’m… fine, really.’ I continue to swipe at my face, but the tears are now coming thick and fast, so I reach down and pluck a tissue from the pack in my handbag to try to stem the flow.

‘You are not fine at all. I think you need to take a break.’

‘You know, you might be right. I’m sorry, Mrs Carmichael, this is very unprofessional of me.’

‘Don’t be silly, my love. We all have off days. I will let you go for now, but perhaps we can have a little chat tomorrow evening at the fundraiser, so I can see how you are.’

‘That would be nice,’ I say, and I realise I do mean it.

I hang up and blow my nose, thankful that I’m the only one in the office right now. The others are all out at meetings or on last-minute event-related errands. Slipping on my jacket, I lock up and hurry along Great Junction Street, keeping my head down to hide my tearful eyes and puffy red face.

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