Page 23 of One Snowy Day
‘One of the great mysteries of our time,’ he agreed, laughing.
‘If you were any kind of friend, you’d set me up with one of your loaded clients. Is Dax Price single? I could totally be a WAG.’
Lachlan hated to break it to her, but, ‘Last I heard, he was dating a fitness model influencer with 10 million followers.’
She lowered her eyes to take in her outfit of chaos. ‘I think he may be out of my league. Anyway…’ She quickly snapped out of her state of mock despair. ‘What time is your flight tonight?’
‘Ten o’clock.’
‘So what are you going to do until then?’
He realised he didn’t know the answer to that question.
They both automatically looked at the huge train station clock that had been repurposed as a decorative piece behind the bar. It was a few minutes to one o’clock. Before today, all he’d been able to think about was how much he’d been dreading the meeting this morning. He hadn’t contemplated what he’d do after it. He’d booked a later flight because he wasn’t sure how long the meeting would last or how it would go. Now he was wishing he had an afternoon one instead.
‘I wish I could spend the rest of the day with you, but these are two of my weekly classes and I can’t let them down. Also, they’ve all paid for a block booking. If I don’t show up, I’ll have to refund everyone. Welcome to the world of a freelance yoga instructor. If you want, you can go to my place and chill there, though. I’ll be back around five and I could cancel the date…’
He had a flush of guilt about Margaux changing her plans for him, so he immediately came up with an excuse to avoid that. ‘Thanks, but I’m not being responsible for you potentially missing out on meeting the bloke of your dreams. I’m just going to head out to the airport and see if I can get bumped up to an earlier flight. If not, I’ve got loads of work I need to catch up on and a couple of clients and suppliers I need to speak to, so that’ll pass the time.’
‘Okay, but if the flight gets delayed or cancelled with this weather, just come stay at mine. I’ll get you uproariously drunk and force you to listen to what will inevitably be a pathetic tale about my latest romantic disaster. I now understand the term “axis of evil” – it’s online dating, optimism and scumbags that send dick picks on social media.’
That made him laugh again. ‘Good to know. I’ll keep you posted if I get grounded.’
She checked her watch. ‘Well, much as it’s been special, I really need to go. My class is in Paisley in an hour, and I’m going to have to jump in a taxi because I don’t trust myself to drive in this weather. If you’re a ninety-year-old man with cataracts, I’m his ninety-five-year-old friend with no sense of distance who panics at the first hint of a skid.’
‘I’ll drop you off,’ he offered straight away.
‘Are you sure? I’d play hard to get, and pretend to object, but the thought of being chauffeured there in that big beast outside is pretty appealing.’
He took some cash from his wallet. ‘I insist. Paisley is practically at the airport, so I’m going that way anyway and could do with the company. And I’m getting lunch too. Call it a pre-payment in case I need to sleep in your spare room tonight.’
‘Urgh, why didn’t I ever fancy you? I mean, now that you’re minted and relatively good-looking, maybe I could be persuaded.’
He went with the same answer that both of them had given each other a dozen times over the years.
‘Margaux, visualise me naked.’
‘Eeeeeew, my eyes!’ she wailed, groaning dramatically.
‘Exactly. Now let’s go before I need to do the same thing.’
Anyone else in the pub would think that the two people who were laughing as they walked out of the door hand in hand were a couple. The truth, Lachlan knew, was that they were so muchmore than that. And after everything that had happened before he’d left Glasgow, he’d settle for the kind of friendship he could rely on.
They climbed into the Range Rover and chatted the whole way. Traffic was horrendous, the roads were awful, and there were at least half a dozen accidents on the way to Paisley, so it took them much longer than they expected, arriving at the sports centre five minutes before the class was due to start.
Margaux reached over and kissed him, then quickly opened the door. ‘Thank you for this, thank you for lunch, and remember to hit me up if your flight gets cancelled. You never know – if the date goes really badly, I might get drunk enough to contemplate you naked without chucking up my chips.’
‘You’re so romantic, I’ve no idea why you’re single,’ he dead-panned, before giving her a cheery wave as she dashed off up the stairs to the centre.
He drove off thinking how much he hadn’t realised he needed this. Connection. Familiarity. Shared experiences that weren’t just the shit kind. Other than Dax Price, everyone he knew in London was a new friend or acquaintance, someone he’d met since he moved there two years ago. Much as he’d been dreading coming back, there was something to be said for the good memories. They’d just been buried under the other stuff for a long time. The heartbreak of losing the baby and Tanya. The pain of seeing his future shredded and his happiness torn away from him. That said, this return to his roots wasn’t something he had any intention of repeating. Maybe he’d invite Margaux down for a weekend or perhaps they could go on a trip somewhere, because much as he’d always loved his homeland, he had no desire to come back after today.
That was the thought that was on his mind, when he joined the slip road onto the motorway and continued along the M8towards the airport. Only a couple of junctions. There were still almost eight hours to kill until his flight, but at least he’d be dry, warm, and he could let go of the dread and relax for the first time since he’d got the call to say his dad had passed. Besides, he was pretty sure that some people wouldn’t make it to the airport in this weather, so he reckoned he had a decent chance of swapping to an earlier flight.
He clocked the sign for the airport slip road, then saw that it was blocked by blue flashing lights and an overturned transit van. Bugger. Nothing to do but keep going. He wasn’t in a hurry anyway.
The next couple of exits were backed up with cars that hadn’t been able to get off at the blocked junction, so again, he just kept on driving.
That’s when he saw it. Weirbridge. Six miles ahead. He felt a pang of nostalgia. Weirbridge was the next village to Burnbank, where he’d lived as a child. It was also the second time he’d thought about it today, the first being when the lawyer had informed them that Dad had owned the commercial building there. He had so many clear, happy memories of his mum taking him and Jason back to both villages, to visit the place where she grew up and the café she’d once worked in.
