Page 73 of The Highland Fling

“Hi, sorry I’ve been elusive—I’ve been trying to spend as much time as possible with Mum. I feel so guilty about everything. How are you?”

“Er, okay, I suppose. About your maw—”

“She’s doing all right at the moment. She’s been telling me some stories I’ve never heard before, and it’s been really nice, actually.”

Briefly I fill him in on the last few days and what we know so far about Mum. I explain she’ll need further tests before the doctors can devise a treatment plan. Aidan thanks me for the update, but there’s this strange hesitancy in his voice.

“Is everything okay? You sound a bit off.”

“I just . . .” He takes a deep breath. “I miss you, Grace. Can I travel down to see you?”

“It’s not the best time—I want to give Mum all of my attention for a while. You get that, right? You’d do the same if it were your mum.”

“Aye. I get it.”

There’s something in his tone I can’t quite pinpoint, but I don’t have the energy to drill down into it. Aidan will just have to wait until I’m ready for him. As he’s been single for his entire adult life, except for the last few weeks, I’m sure he can cope for a couple more days.

“Anyway, I best get back to Mum. Happy New Year for when it comes.”

“Oh, right. Happy New Year to you too. And . . . it’s good to hear you again, Grace.”

“You too, Aidan. Bye!”

I hang up, pick up my tea, then step out onto the landing. I stick my head around David’s door, but he’s at his laptop with his headphones on, so I decide not to disturb him. Earlier, he mentioned he was trying to finish a project so he could relax tonight then take a few days off.

I go downstairs to the living room and make myself comfortable on the sofa.

“Well? What was Aidan saying?” Mum wants to know.

“He seemed a bit down, but I think he just misses me. That’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Hmm.” Mum frowns. “He didn’t have any news?”

“No, it was only a short call. Anyway, have you checked what’s on TV tonight? There’s normally some good stuff on New Year’s Eve.” I reach for the remote and open the guide.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

AIDAN

The crisp air of Bannock Woods clears my head of the lingering grogginess from last night’s celebrations. It helps that I went easier on the booze than I normally would on Hogmanay. It was a great party—Emily did a brilliant job—and I joined in with the laughter and the ceilidh dancing since no one would have appreciated me sitting around moping. But I couldn’t shake Grace from my mind.

Now, as I follow the quiet path from Bannock to Duntreath, I attempt to sort out my thoughts. Today marks the start of a new year, and an incredibly important one. Grace and I are due to become parents in April. Suddenly the birth doesn’t seem far away at all.

What I’d like more than anything is to speak with Grace about what her maw did. I’m still thrown that she phoned me and told me to end things. I was close to raising it on the call yesterday, but then Grace mentioned how Viola is doing and the further tests she’ll need. After that, I couldn’t bring myself to get the words out.

It’d be easier to discuss it with Grace in person, but she doesn’t want me going down at the moment, so I’m at a loss what to do.

I crunch on through undisturbed snow. More fell last night, but the skies are clear now, weak sunlight filtering through the bare branches. With most Bannock residents at home nursing hangovers, the only footprints to be seen are my own and those of wildlife.

What I’m wrestling with most is whether there might be something in what Viola said. Is it possible the best thing I can do for Grace is let her go?

The idea is painful, and my immediate reaction is no way in hell, but am I being selfish? I tried selling Grace on the idea of moving up north, and aye, I picked the wrong house, but would it work for Grace with a different house? Or is she better off where she is, in London with her maw nearby and with her yoga business? Because if so, I should end things. If Grace is where she needs to be, and I’m where I need to be, then she and I should be friends, nothing more.

But . . . the thought tears me up.

A robin flutters onto an oak branch. Against the backdrop of snowy woodland, it could be a scene from a Christmas card. I take out my phone and capture the shot. For half a moment, I consider messaging it to Grace, but no, she’s asked for space, and I need to respect that, don’t I?

I walk on.