Page 69 of One Night in Edinburgh

So why can’t we meet up during the week? If only I had the courage to voice this.

We pull apart after a long sensual kiss that nearly has us heading straight for the bedroom, rather than to the kitchen to finish making the picnic.

‘This looks great.’ Jamie surveys my work-in-progress on the kitchen countertop. ‘Need some help?’

‘You could do the sandwich fillings while I chop the carrots if you like?’

‘Sure. I brought crisps, some dip and some chocolate mini rolls for after.’ He pulls them out of the shopping bag he’s holding to show me.

I glance at his offerings. ‘Perfect. This looks like it would feed a family of six. Maybe we’ve gotten a little carried away.’

‘Better to have too much than too little. We can always keep the leftovers for later or tomorrow.’

‘That’s true.’

We prep the last of the picnic and take it down to the car in two backpacks, having borrowed one from Connor. Jamie loads them into the boot while I get into the driver’s seat.

‘All set?’ I ask as he jumps into the passenger side and puts on his seatbelt.

‘Let’s do it.’

We drive out of the underground car parking garage and slowly make our way across the north of the city – through the heavy traffic – until we join the A90, where I can finally get some proper speed up. There’s less chat between us than usual and I can tell Jamie’s trying to be respectful, allowing me to concentrate on the road.

‘Look at the trees,’ I say, as we whizz along the dual carriageway. ‘Spring is finally here. I love it when the new leaves come out, that delicate, fresh green, and the smell of the blossoms.’

‘It is good.’ Jamie lets out a relaxed sigh. ‘I’m just glad to be out of the city. Can’t remember the last time I was in the countryside.’

‘Really? Why’s that?’

I don’t get out of the city much myself either, but this feels like an opportunity to encourage Jamie to share.

‘Just… life, I guess.’ He shrugs. ‘It gets in the way.’

‘Right.’

While I do understand this simple explanation, I can’t help feeling disappointed that it didn’t lead to something more informative.

We arrive in South Queensferry and I navigate the car through the tight squeeze of the cobbled town centre, frequently having to stop to allow other cars to pass. Once we’ve successfully made it through, past the quaint old fishing village buildings, the road widens and our surroundings open up, treating us to a front row view of the Forth estuary and the iconic Forth bridges. The imposing red steel structure of the rail bridge towers above us like a giant Meccano model.

Jamie’s face immediately lights up at the sight of it. ‘Wow. That’s some view.’

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ I throw him a side-glance and a smile. ‘I always feel like I’m in a miniature toy town when I come here because it’s so huge.’

‘I totally get what you mean. That’s really something.’

‘Have you never been here before?’

‘No, never, but now I’m wondering why.’ He continues to gaze up at the bridge in awe.

‘It’s more of a tourist trap. Locals are less likely to visit, I suppose. Do you see any spaces in the car park? I’m not sure I want to go into it if there aren’t any. It always gets jammed up.’

He cranes his neck to check. ‘Nah, not seeing anything, I’m afraid.’

‘No surprise. It’s always packed here. Especially on a Saturday.’

I continue along the road, which sweeps off to the right and up a steep gradient adjacent to where the rail bridge joins with the land above us. About halfway up, we get lucky and find a space, then walk back down the hill and along the short lane onto the Dalmeny Estate. It’s a warm day – the mid-teens temperature being generous for a Scottish spring – so there are plenty of people around, making the most of it. We nod politely as we’re passed by families and couples, all heading back from their own walks.

Following the narrow meandering country lane, we chat away easily, holding hands, flirting and stealing kisses like a pair of teenagers. After about twenty minutes, we reach an opening on the left that leads us onto a beach. It’s what I’d describe as a wild beach – linked with the lane by a trampled path through the unmanicured grasses. Having been left to its own devices, the beach is more of a nature reserve than an intended tourist destination: one of the reasons I love it so much. The fine sand stretches for a few hundred metres in either direction, while the water feels almost as far away as it is low tide. The soothing crash of the breaking waves and the sound of the gentle wind adds to the sense of wilderness, while seabirds pick along the shore, foraging for marine life left exposed and vulnerable by the retreating water.

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