When we reach the open space by the Fisherman’s Memorial, Blair gasps. “Oh my God!”
It’s like the summer festival has been brought back for one more evening: bunting back up between lampposts, fairy lights glowing along the harbour rail. By the memorial, a couple of tables are laid out with traybakes, bottles chilling in tubs, and rows of glasses waiting to be filled.
And then there’s the turnout, more than I expected. Not just the usual faces—Struan, Douglas, Ellie, the kids—but a proper crowd. Even Torq and some of the Corraig folk are here, though that doesn’t surprise me. They knocked on the bridge door earlier to say hello, on the last ferry run of the day.
A chorus of fond greetings erupts—“Blair!”, “There she is!”, “Welcome, love!”—and Blair presses a hand to her chest, cheeks flushing, laughing in surprise.
Flora bustles over, beaming. “Told you I’d manage a party! Before these decorations went back into storage, I convinced everyone we could get one more use out of them. What do you think?”
“It’s amazing!” Blair says. “But it’s too much just for me.”
“Don’t be daft,” Flora says. “We have to see you off properly. You matter to us, Blair. All of us. Now, what can I get you to drink?”
As Flora leads Blair away to get her a drink—“Something soft, please. I’m driving tonight”—everyone gravitates towards her like she’s the sun. Cue laughter, hugs, promises to keep in touch. Part of me is proud of how much she means to everyone. Butmostly? I’m bloody envious. This is my last night with Blair, and I’m having to share her with half the town.
Finn hugs my side, like it’s not just Gus who’s on a lead.
“Look, lad, there’s Logan, Rosie, and Isla. Why don’t you go off and play?”
Finn shrugs. “Maybe later.”
Can’t really blame him. I’m hardly in the mood for a party either.
But no. I can’t let myself wallow in this. Blair’s given us a gift: shown us how to be happier, more open, more alive. I can’t let our wee family slip back to how we were before she came. It’s up to me now to keep that light burning, even when she’s gone.
I force myself to straighten and summon up a smile. “Actually, you know what? How about we play a game of tig? I can be it. Well, me and Gus can.”
Finn’s face lights up for the first time all day. “Really? You’ll play with us?”
“Really. Come on, Gus. Let’s show these kids what we’re made of.”
Soon I’m chasing all four around, trying to tig them, while they laugh, whoop, and shriek with delight. It’s daft, it’s noisy, and for a few minutes it almost works. The heaviness lifts, just a little. Gus enjoys the game just as much as we humans do, if not more.
Tomorrow the kids will be back in school uniforms, sitting in classrooms. Tonight, though, they’re wild things, and I’m right there with them. After a while, I catch Blair watching us from the crowd, a smile curving her mouth. I grin back at her.
We go on playing until Ellie taps a microphone, checking it’s working. By this point I’m breathless and the bairns are all rosy-cheeked. Seems like it’s speech time, and apparently I’m the only grown-up without a drink. I’m about to sort that when Struan waltzes over, a bottle of lager in each hand.
“You’ve earned this, mate, after all that running.” He passes me one of the beers.
“Right, everyone!” Ellie says. She’s standing by the memorial, smoothing her skirt with her free hand, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “If I could have your attention for just a few moments.”
The crowd gradually quiets, conversations dying down as everyone turns towards her.
“Normally when I do public speaking,” she begins, “it’s to a group of children, and the words have already been written down and printed in a book. This is... different. But maybe I can be inspired by Blair and step out of my comfort zone. After all, she came to this place where she didn’t know anyone, so I can at least manage a short speech.”
She takes a breath, finding her rhythm. “I don’t want to let Blair go without saying a proper goodbye to such a wonderful friend. In such a short time, you’ve become so important to me—to all of us. You’re going to be missed terribly.”
Something lodges in my throat as Ellie goes on about Blair’s kindness, her way with Finn and the other kids, how she brings light wherever she goes. Every word rings true. Every word makes this harder.
“You know, mate,” Struan mutters, leaning close, “you’re a bloody idiot if you let her get on that plane without telling her how you feel.”
Christ. He picks his moments.
I glance at Blair, her cheeks flushing as Ellie piles on the praise, embarrassment written clear on her face.
“It’s her dream job,” I murmur back. “I’m not going to stand in her way. She’s twenty-seven. She’s got plenty of time to find love after she’s settled in her career. And maybe... maybe I’ll find it again too. Before Blair, I never thought I would. Now I know it’s possible.” But even as the words leave my mouth, theyring untrue. I’m not convinced there will be anyone else. Not quite like Blair.
“Putting her needs above yours?” Struan says. “That’s sweet. Also? Bollocks. You need to tell her how you feel. Let her decide what she wants. Don’t make that call for her.”
