‘I should go, I think.’ He scratched the back of his neck. ‘Thank you for dinner, though. It really was the best thing I’ve tasted in a while.’
Relief washed over Rae, and she went to the back door a little too eagerly. ‘Well, thankyoufor helping Dad.’
He grabbed his backpack from the floor with a nod. ‘I’ll come check on him tomorrow. Will you tell him I said bye?’
‘Of course.’
‘I, er…’ As he trailed off, Rae opened the door, unsure what else there was left to say. She was just glad for the yowling cat between them, as sharp as his claws were.
‘Well, it was nice to see you,’ he said again, as though trying to fill the quiet.Does he know he’s allowed to leave, now?
‘You, too,’ she replied with as much politeness as she could muster.
And then, as he leaned in, she understood. He wanted to hug her. She put her free arm around his back, sinking into his warmth—
‘Oh, this is awkward. I was going for the cat.’ Struan chuckled, hand hovering over Roderick’s head.
‘Oh!’ Rae flew back so quickly the door handle met her spine in a sharp zap of pain, but thankfully, Struan was too busy sneezing to notice.
‘It’s… er, okay. I just didn’t think you’d want to…’
‘I don’t,’ she was quick to confirm.Tooquick.
‘Great. Then I’m going to go.’
Yes, please do.‘Okay. Bye, then…’
He backed away with a final wave and another almighty sneeze that echoed over the darkening farm.
Rae watched his silhouette disappear, then squeezed her eyes closed as she shut the door, letting Roderick down.
‘Numpty!’ she scolded herself, embarrassment crawling like red ants across her skin.
No wonder he’d called her Little Rae, like she was still that young, gawky friend attached to Martha’s hip. At least it made certain that they would settle back into their old ways, barely more than strangers, only in the same room when someone else put them there.
Except, Rae had spent a long time around strangers and casual acquaintances. Struan, with his subtle touches and flirtatious quips, hadn’t felt like either of those things tonight.
5
In her absence, Rae’s old bedroom had been invaded by pets and storage boxes, so she manoeuvred around both to perch on the edge of her bed, not daring to disturb the dogs sprawled across her pillows. Her phone hadn’t left her nightstand since this morning, but she supposed it was time to change that. A couple of old colleagues had sent out email invites to various grand openings and soirees happening over summer, and she was glad to have the farm as an excuse not to go. She’d once loved dining in top-class restaurants and sharing conversation with like-minded foodie peers over rooftop cocktails, but seeing her friends now would mean having to explain why she’d resigned from Lapis, and what she planned to do next, questions she didn’t yet know the answers to.
Her thumb hovered over a new text from Martha, delivered only half an hour ago.
You’re home?
Struan must have already told her. Rae ran her fingers through Milly’s soft fur as she wondered what he might have said. It probably meant nothing, but more of that unwelcome twitchiness scuttled through her.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit the video call button beside Martha’s name and stretched beside the dogs to lie on her stomach. It took less than ten seconds for Martha to answer, her stony, inquisitive face filling up the screen. Her round-framed glasses reflected the light of her laptop back to her, wispy ash-blond hair twisted into a knot on top of her head, with her fringe cut much shorter than the last time they’d seen one another.
‘Well, well, well,’ Martha sing-songed, setting her laptop down at a lower angle. ‘Look who finally remembered her best friend.’
Rae winced. ‘Sorry. Do you hate me forever?’
‘Undecided. I’m not impressed I had to find out you’re home from my brother.’ In the background, Vik’s athletic figure clanged around the lit kitchen, a low hum signalling the brewing of the kettle. She’d always been slightly envious of how cosy Martha’s flat in St Andrews looked whenever they managed to catch up, star-shaped fairy lights draped over a tall bookshelf behind the plush green couch. If she wasn’t working, Martha could usually be found there, bundled in a hand-knitted blanket while Vik served up herbal teas and healthy snacks.
Rae’s life hadn’t been like that in any city. Her apartments were uninspiring and minimalistic, made for function rather than comfort, and she’d never once invited anyone in. Sometimes when Martha called, she’d left the lights off just so she wouldn’t see how utterly clinical her surroundings were.
She picked nervously at the frayed threads of her patchwork quilt. ‘Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to see him like that.’
