Page 69 of A Secret Scottish Escape

“Where is he now?”

“Just having a shower. We’re all a bit delicate this morning.”

“And the rest of the guys?”

“Probably still slumped in their B&B. You’d think at our age we would learn,” groaned Dad. “Orange juice from now on.”

I asked Dad to give me twenty minutes to finish off my article. Once I’d rung off, my eyes blurred at my scribbled notes. Thank goodness I’d got it almost completed.

Once I’d finished checking it for spelling mistakes, I rattled off a brief email to the Features Editor, attached the document, and pressed ‘Send’.

Saturday morning sunshine trickled through the glass of my front door while I pulled on my leather jacket, hooked my straw bag over my shoulder, and shoved in my mobile.

I would walk the short distance down the lane to Dad’s and clear my head. I adjusted the collar of my shirt in the hall mirror, trying not to dwell on the concerned edge in my eyes.

Then, forcing a brittle smile at my reflection, I set off.

“What are you saying?”

Ed’s bewildered expression swung from Dad to me and back again. “Are you telling me I could be her father?”

Dad leaned forward in his chair, his fingers knotting themselves together. “Yes, we’re trying to say you could be Layla’s biological father.”

“Or at least, that’s what my mum is saying,” I added, irritated that despite me sitting opposite him, he’d referred to me as ‘her’.

Ed slumped back in Dad’s dark brown armchair. I could see the colour slipping from his face. “But … but Tina’s never mentioned anything before…”

Dad and I swapped charged glances.

“It’s true then,” said Dad after a considered pause. “You did have an affair with her.”

Ed’s right hand reached up and started tugging at his ball of faded brown curls. “Yes … no … I mean … oh shit!” He let out an agonised breath so deep I thought he was experiencing an asthma attack. “I’m so sorry, Harry. You were a mate. You still are, but you know what a good-looking woman Tina was. Still is. I suppose I was flattered…”

“Was it a one-night stand?” I croaked, trying to assemble the pieces of the story in my mind.

Ed looked over at me as though he had forgotten I was still there. He hunched over and examined my features, like I was an unusual museum artefact. “No,” he answered. “But our fling didn’t last long. Maybe a few weeks.”

His honesty, though appreciated, stabbed me in the stomach. “So not exactly Romeo and Juliet then?”

Dad frowned over at me. “Layla.”

“How can you be so sodding calm about all this, Dad?” I erupted, jumping to my feet. “One of your band mates was shagging your wife.”

Ed dropped his hooded, pale blue eyes to the carpet.

Dad’s cool gaze regarded Ed and asked him when it happened.

“Do we really have to do all this now?” Ed whined. “What is it going to achieve?”

I glowered down at him from where I stood. “Well, if I am your biological daughter, I think we’ve got the right to know.”

Ed drank in my facial features. I could feel my mouth hardening.

He swallowed before he spoke again to my dad. “You and Tina had been married about two years by then.”

I gave my head a shake, but said nothing.

Dad snorted with derision. “Nothing that woman has done, or does, surprises me anymore.”