Page 10 of The Highland Fling

“Fine. A bit of fresh air will sort me out.”

He gives me a sideways glance. “Grace?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember that thing Mum said the other day? You couldn’t be . . .”

“I’m not pregnant, David,” I assure him. “I feel funny after the journey up, that’s all. After Inverness, there were so many twisty roads. I could do with a walk, but I don’t want to leave you when we’ve only just got here. We need to celebrate your big move.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—you’ve spent all day with me! Why don’t you surprise Emily then go for a stroll together? Oh, and ask if she has space in the hotel—you’ll be more comfortable there than on the sofa. C’mon, let’s go get your bag.”

He leads me around the cottage then grabs my bag from the boot. It’s small and light, containing just enough for a night away.

“I’ll say your goodbyes for you. Take it easy, okay? If the hotel’s full, I’ll see you later on; otherwise, let’s catch up in the morning. Love you, sis.”

We hug.

“Oh, and Grace? Go straight to the hotel, yeah? I don’t want you wandering around by yourself if you’re not one hundred per cent.”

I laugh. “You’re sweet, but I promise you I’m fine. Enjoy your night.”

CHAPTER FIVE

GRACE

The name Main Street implies a level of activity unknown to this sleepy town. Reaching it, I glance to my left towards the Bannock Hotel then hesitate and check behind me. David has gone back into Johnny’s cottage: I’m not being watched.

I turn right and go over an old stone bridge that crosses the river. I am looking forward to catching up with Emily, but first I need to make sense of at least some of what’s going through my head.

The town continues on this side of the water. I pass a peaceful, pretty church and walk on until I come to a public footpath that leads into a wood. Yes, David warned me not to wander by myself, but I’m okay physically—I just need some mental space to think things over.

I follow the path, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, evening sunlight filtering through from overhead. I let my outstretched fingers graze against the rough texture of trees I pass. Whiffs of wild flowers tickle my nose, their aromas surprisingly strong but not affecting me the way the whisky did.

This heightened sense of smell . . . I told David with absolute conviction I’m not pregnant, but the truth is, I don’t know. Yes, Aidan used a condom, but what if something happened? What if it ripped?

I didn’t realise until Mum’s comment the other day, but my period is a little late. By itself, that doesn’t mean anything: it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been irregular. But combined with my nose’s strange sensitivity, well . . . pregnancy is a possibility. I’ve been trying to deny it to myself, but I can’t ignore the signs forever.

I could have got a definitive answer yesterday. It was on Thursday that David announced his news to me and Mum, and today is Saturday. I had all day Friday to get a pregnancy test and find out for sure, but . . . I didn’t.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice movement. A red squirrel scurries up a tree then disappears from view. I stop in my tracks, a smile tugging at my lips. Grey squirrels are a familiar sight around London’s parks, but I’ve never seen a red one before. That was special.

The encounter provides me a momentary reprieve, but my mind soon returns to the matter in hand. I walk on.

Why didn’t I test yesterday? It’s so stupid, but . . . I think it’s a bit like that thought experiment, Schrödinger’s cat. Until you check the box, the cat can be both alive and dead, but once you look, it’s either one or the other.

If I take a test and the result is positive . . .

It won’t be. I’m sure I’m not pregnant. And yet . . . am I actually sure? My head is telling me I can’t possibly be, but my gut is saying something else.

A less-trodden path breaks off from the main one, meandering past Scots pines, silver birches, and oaks, leading deeper into the woods, further from the town. I take it. I’m in no rush to get back. By escaping civilisation for a while, maybe I can also escape the possibility that something could be growing inside me. When I return, I’ll force myself to finally face this, but I’m not ready quite yet.

Time passes, and I wander on. At some point I’ll have to turn around—the further from Bannock I go, the further I’ll have to walk back—but I want to avoid reality for a little longer.

The ground slopes up, the incline getting progressively steeper. I plough on, feeling the strain in my leg muscles.

Why the hell did I have sex with Aidan? I’d been doing just fine since ending things with Mark. I’d been putting all of my energy into taking care of myself, not worrying at all about men, and it’d been good for me. When I was with Mark, I was so focused on keeping him happy, I somehow missed that it was one way, that my well-being wasn’t as high on his list of priorities as his was on mine.

These last eighteen months have been exactly what I needed, so why did I decide it was time for a change? Am I so weak that I risked the satisfying life I’d established for myself for one fast and frantic tumble with a man who sleeps with a different woman every weekend?