Page 88 of One Night in Edinburgh

‘OK, fine. But I still reckon it’s weird.’

‘How’s your Instagram following doing?’

This is a sure-fire way to get Kayleigh to move on. The only thing she loves more than gossiping about others is yapping on about herself.

‘I’m nearing twenty-seven thousand followers.’ She puffs her chest out proudly.

‘Gosh, that’s actually quite impressive.’ Although I’m normally immune to Kayleigh’s insufferable social media chat, I have to acknowledge that she’s dedicated, and she appears to be building a genuine following.

‘If you look at the definitions online – which change depending on what site you look at – I’m what you might call a micro-influencer.’

‘Right, wow. And what does that mean?’

She makes a face. ‘It means that I have a small amount of influence online –obviously.’

‘All right, no need to be bitchy about it.’ I hold my hands up in a gesture of self-defence. ‘What I mean is, how does that influence work? What are your followers getting from you and what doyouget from doing this?’

‘Well, I’ve kind of claimed Edinburgh as my niche. I’m finding hidden gems across the city that people might not easily come across and then I’m sharing them.’

‘Sothat’swhy we’re in a cafe on Easter Road. Now it makes sense. Didn’t think this was your kind of haunt.’

‘It’s not. But my followers are loving it. Look.’ She thrusts her phone in my face. ‘I’ve already had two hundred likes and a handful of comments on the post I published when we arrived.’

‘I see. That’s great.’ I lean back so I can focus on the screen.

‘And I love sharing this information with people to help them find great experiences. I enjoy improving their lives.’

‘Now that I don’t believe that for a second.’ I smirk. ‘What are you really getting out of it?’

‘Why is it so hard to believe that I might want to help others, just like you do?’ Kayleigh pouts and inspects her perfectly shellacked nails.

‘Because you’ve never done anything for anyone else in your life, and you constantly pick on me for having a job that does exactly that.’

‘OK, fine. I want to make a career out of it. If I can gain enough followers, I’ll have local businesses paying me to share their stuff. Then I can take it national and then international—’

‘And then you’ll basically be paid to be on holiday permanently?’ I raise a questioning eyebrow.

‘You make it sound like I want a life of skiving off.’ She sniffs.

‘Don’t you?’

‘No.It’ll be hard work.’

I let out a belly laugh, which attracts some attention from the customers around us.

‘Yeah, right.Lying on a beach, eating amazing food and drinking cocktails at the best places all over the world will be such hard work.’

‘Shut. Up. Steph.’ Kayleigh glances around her uncomfortably. ‘Someone might recognise me.’

‘Sorry.’ I suddenly feel guilty for mocking her. ‘Well, I wish you all the best with that, Kayleigh. It certainly sounds like a nice life plan and something that will make you happy. Shall we get going?’

Kayleigh doesn’t need to be asked twice. She gets up and scuttles out of the door with her head down.

We make our way up Easter Road towards London Road, where we can catch a bus to the city centre. The next part of our afternoon outing together is – going shopping. To say I’m dreading it is an understatement. It will inevitably play out with me sitting in changing rooms watching Kayleigh try on an endless stream of extortionately priced garments, probably buying none of them because she can’t afford them either. She wants the experience and any valuable material she happens to uncover along the way for her Instagram account.

As we walk, I see a homeless man sitting on the street outside a grocery store not far beyond us. He has his hood up and his head down, and I wonder if it’s the same guy I’ve given money to along at The Shore in the past.

‘Hey.’ I nudge Kayleigh. ‘I’m trying to understand your world. Why don’t you try to understand mine? Give the man some money to help him afford a hostel tonight – or whatever he needs it for.’

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