Within a few minutes, the ferry has backed up, and cars are slowly making their way onto it. Reuben waves to the man in the kiosk.
“You’re known here?” I say, feeling too weary to resist asking him a personal question, as I usually have done.
“I take the ferry a lot, and Mull is a fairly small community.”
Soon it’s our turn to drive onto the ferry, and Reuben manoeuvres the car into the spot that a man in an orange,fluorescent jacket is indicating. Reuben turns the engine off and looks over at me. “Do you want to sleep in the car or go up top?”
“Up top,” I say immediately. “I need more fresh air.”
He nods. “Hang on. The deck isn’t enclosed, and it’s cold today. Dean got you some stuff because you only had an overnight bag with you in Edinburgh. I’m sure I saw a coat somewhere in amongst the stuff.”
He exits the car and I hear him going through items in the back. He returns in seconds, toting a navy Canada Goose parka with the tag still on it.
“Good grief. I don’t need that,” I say, climbing out of the car as he gestures with the parka. “It’s for polar conditions.”
“You certainly do and will,” he immediately says, his voice very firm. “It’s October, and it’s fucking freezing on Mull, Xavi.”
His mouth snaps shut, and I freeze. The last time I heard that nickname was in a hotel room in Prague. I’d threatened to get up from the bed and never see him again if he repeated it, and I haven’t heard it since. Until now.
“Sorry,” he says quickly.
I roll my eyes. “Oh,please. If you start apologising, we’ll lose the daylight.”
He snorts and holds out the parka so I can slip into it. He fusses with the zip and gets the hood correctly positioned, but I hop from foot to foot impatiently. The cramped surroundings amongst the other cars, combined with the smell of diesel and petrol, make my stomach roil.
When I make a small sound of distress, he looks up at me and blanches. I’m pretty sure I’m a faint green colour.
“Fresh air,” he says quickly. He reaches into the car and grabs two paper cups from the cup holders. They have steam coming from them that I didn’t notice before. He stuffs a couple of packets of biscuits in the pocket of his own parka and then ushers me up some steep iron steps. We come out into a seatingarea with red plastic seats fixed to the floor. I inhale the cold air greedily.
“Reuben,” an old man in a cap says. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know, Fergus,” Reuben replies, smiling easily.
“Going to be a choppy crossing,” he says cheerfully, and I groan.
“Wonderful,” I whisper, directing a furious glance at Reuben. This is all his fault. I could be recuperating in a luxury hotel room right now if it weren’t for him.
“Had business on the mainland, did you?” the man asks, giving me a curious look.
I smile sweetly. “Yes, he had to pick me up. Oh dear. I hope the ferry isn’t delayed, or he’ll find his bill climbing a bit steeply. I charge by the hour, you know.”
The man blinks, and Reuben smiles at him. “Nice to see you, Fergus,” he says placidly.
He guides me towards some seats at the front, which are blessedly private. I sink into the seat, and he falls in next to me. For a second, we’re silent, and then I hear a soft snort. When I look over, he’s laughing silently, but so hard that there are tears in his eyes.
“Oh, shut up,” I say, and he laughs harder.
“That’s donewondersfor my reputation,” he announces.
“Which is probably akin to something grumpier than the Grinch.” He snorts again. “You’re very welcome,” I add sweetly. “You know I exist to make you happy.”
“You always have.”
“Pardon?” I direct a startled look at him.
He gazes serenely out over the water and doesn’t answer.
There’s a grinding noise, and the ferry sets off. I look around curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a ferry before,” I say.
