Georgia’s prediction appears to be correct.
‘Are you from the States?’ he hears Heather say. ‘Happy Thanksgiving, if so.’
Everyone in the group turns to look at Heather and then beyond her towards him, Brianna, Georgia and Trey.
‘Are you guys American, too?’ someone from the group asks.
‘No. I’m from Edinburgh. But we’re hosting Trey, who is.’
Scott watches Heather walk towards Trey and thrust him towards the perfect strangers.
Trey’s face breaks into the widest smile as members of the group shake his hand and tell stories from home. Scott realises he’s witnessing yet another of Heather’s unique and wonderful traits: taking two disparate groups of people and creating a community.
Scott and Heather move away from the youngsters and look out to sea as the sun makes its final descent. The sunset is unbelievably, breathtakingly gorgeous. Orange and red streaks intersperse dark blue bands of newly formed clouds. They standin a huddle and watch it in silence for a few minutes. Heather slips her hand through the crook of his arm.
‘I like to come up here when the world doesn’t seem to make sense,’ she whispers to him.
‘I get that,’ he replies, because being here with her, and looking out at the current view, helps the world feel just a little kinder than it did before.
***
‘You’re full of surprises,’ Scott says when they’re back at Heather’s house. The sun has set completely; it’s pitch-black outside, and they are both at the end of Heather’s garden. He’s training the torchlight whilst Heather fiddles with the fuse on a fireworks box.
‘I did tell you I go all out for holidays, besides, I wanted to make it extra special for Trey,’ she says. ‘Hold it steady,’ she complains when Scott swivels to glance at her.
Scott returns his focus to his task. Heather strikes the match, lights the fuse and bids everyone to, ‘hurry, hurry, hurry.’ They sprint back to the house and moments later are greeted with explosions of sound and light as the Morningside sky floods with optimism.
‘This is what Christmas at home must be like,’ Brianna says when they’re back inside, in front of the fire, nursing mugs of hot chocolate to warm their hands.
‘Oh yes, but with tinsel and the tree and the fire and the carols. Mum goes all out for Christmas,’ Georgia says.
Scott’s chest tightens, and he gives Heather a side glance.
‘I guess I’ll be skiing again with Dad’s friends or a bunch of strangers,’ his daughter says, her voice low.
‘No!’ Georgia springs to her feet, and tiny marshmallows from her drink slosh onto the carpet. ‘Come here. Stay with us. We’ll show you how to do it. Oh Do! Do! Say you’ll come.’
All eyes are directed at Scott, and he’s suddenly thrust into the pressure of a decision.
‘There’s nothing booked ... yet,’ he says carefully. ‘But—’
‘No buts,’ Georgia interrupts. ‘Trey’s away with his family, so it’ll just be us at home.’
Scott tries again to interrupt Georgia’s flood of fancy.
‘But—’
‘Oh, Dad, pleeeeease.’
Brianna’s on her feet now, petitioning him alongside Georgia.
‘But—’
His eyes move towards Heather, who’s sitting perfectly still, her cheeks lightly tinged.
‘We’d be really happy to host you if you would like to,’ she says softly.
The resulting cheer seems louder than the fireworks.
