Page 77 of When We Are Old

He came back shaking his keys. “Definitely going now.”

“Bye.” I waved, my heart thumping in my throat. Jack came to the lounge door after the front door had shut again.

“Do you need anything, Ronnie?” Oh my heart.

“No, Jacky.” Ooh I didn’t mean to personalise his name like that. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I like it. I’m going to be Jacky Carling, the greatest Scottish footballer of all time.”

“Get ya scrawny arse in here.” Liam bellowed. “I’m the greatest Scottish footballer of all time.”

Lynn went to the bowl Matthew’s keys had been carelessly tossed into and grabbed out a set of brass keys. “Shall we stroll down to the shop? He hasn’t shown you what he’s been up to the last couple of weeks has he?”

“No.” I shook my head, disbelieving time passed at such a pace. Okay, we hadn’t spoken much this week due to his theatrics but... “I’d love to see it though. Are you happy with the suggestions I made with the branding?” I pulled at my jumper.

“Happy? I’m ecstatic.”

“Really?”

Lynn shook her head at me. “Of course, but, honestly, do I think that Matthew should be doing it?” She shrugged.

“Why?” I lowered my voice to a whisper, and she smiled.

“It’s okay. It’s nothing none of them haven’t heard before. I just.” She shrugged again. “I always thought Matthew was meant for more.”

“More than working for McStandish?” I hated the thought of him unhappy in a suit, and the glorious image of the man I used to know, the memory I’d held onto for so long— tall and paint stained with his shock of dark hair standing on end—came to mind.

“Definitely more than that. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“I should tell Hannah where I’m going.” I pulled back towards the kitchen.

“No need. She’s playing cards with Ruth and Lennie.”

I almost fell over my feet. “She’s doing what?”

“Playing cards. You don’t do that at home?”

Obviously I didn’t want to sound like the shittiest mother ever, but I had to be honest. “Nope.” Let’s not dress it up.

“You don’t play shithead?”

“You’ve got my daughter playing a game called shithead?” I snorted a laugh. Poor Ma. What would I be taking her back to Kingston?

“Listen.” She pointed her finger towards the kitchen and cocked her head. True enough, from behind the door came a sound that I remembered my baby girl having—a laugh.

“Come, grab your coat, you southerners always moan it’s too cold.”

Couldn’t even argue with the woman. A bitter wind swept through Scotland that I wasn’t entirely sure was right.

Where were the blossoms and the tulips?

Lynn laughed as she watched my disgruntled face. “Spring’s coming. I can smell it in the air.”

“You can smell it? Are you a witch?”

“No! The air is warmer.”

We were out in the street and I shrank down into my coat. The woman was made of tougher stuff than me.