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Vivi didn’t reply—because, for once, she realised Jenn was actually right.

“But what will you do?” she asked eventually, looking at Jenn with a worried expression.

Jenn sighed, rubbing her bleary eyes, and practically downed her cup of tea. Maybe it was the placebo effect, or maybe it was the magical combination of breakfast food and beverages, but she could swear she could feel her brain slowly starting to work.

“I’m gonna do the one thing I always said I wouldn’t.”

She paused. Took a breath.

“I’m going back to my folks.”

Vivi’s mouth fell open like Jenn had just announced she was becoming a nun.

“I need to take a step back. Reassess everything. Mum’s been suggesting it for ages. At least until I find my feet again.”

The more she said it, the more it felt… doable. Not ideal—obviously. In fact, it was downright mortifying. A thirty-three-year-old adult child returning to the nest because she’d achieved nothing. Okay, maybe that was a tad harsh. She did have a First in History from Edinburgh, after all. And she was doing more and more yoga teaching—the student had very nearly become the master. Plus, she did have some pretty amazing ‘life experiences’ shall we say… if you counted being an expert at airport security, romantic disasters, job jumping, and questionable fashion choices as part of personal growth.

“Well, you know if you moved back to your folks, you could maybe do postgrad teaching or something like that…” Vivi suggested, casually dropping the T word again. Her pet plan for Jenn’s future. A nice, respectable profession that sounded good at dinner parties.

Jenn sighed. “Vivi, we’ve talked about this a million times. I don’t want to be a teacher. It wouldn’t be fair—on me or the poor bloody kids!” Jenn tried to sound firm. But Vivi wasn’t done.

“But it would give you flexibility,” Vivi pressed. “And you could keep travelling and do all your amazing holidays…”

“Vivi, seriously—no,” Jenn said, sharper now. “It’s not going to happen. There’s plenty of other options out there.” She could feel herself getting defensive, her shoulders inching up, and fight-flight kicking in.

“I just need to… breathe. Think…”

Just then her mobile started to ring. ‘Auntie Peigi’ flashed on the screen.

“Huh?” she said, frowning. “It can’t be that time already…”

“Still chatting to Auntie Peigi every other Saturday?” Vivi said, smiling. “You’d better answer. I’ll bring you another cuppa—and maybe even some biscuits,” she added with a wink, already heading into the kitchen.

“Auntie Peigi!” Jenn answered, in what she hoped was a bright and breezy manner.

“Ìosa Crìost, m’ eudail, you sound horrendous,” Auntie Peigi’s lilting Hebridean voice floated down the line. “What the devil is the matter with you?”

“I’ve got a bit of a hangover…” Jenn admitted sheepishly, knocking back some Irn-Bru and willing its magical hangover-banishing properties to kick in.

“Hangover? Pah! You’re definitely no relation of mine, m’ eudail,” Auntie Peigi exclaimed.

Fair point. Jenn might’ve inherited the Hebridean cheekbones, but the magical alcohol tolerance gene had clearly skipped her.

“Haha!” Jenn replied with a laugh. “You know you can’t deny me, Auntie Peigi.”

“True. True. And for that, you are my favourite,” Auntie Peigi said with theatrical flair.

It was true, though. Jenn was the spitting image of Auntie Peigi and Granny Annag when they were younger—dark hair that was almost jet black, pale skin with a smattering of freckles, and eyes as clear and green as sea glass. She wished she could say her hair tumbled in wild, oceanic waves like some Gaelic goddess. But no—it was a frizzy tempest she’d long since given up trying to tame. She told herself it gave her character. Distinction. That’s what she was going with, anyway.

“You’re my favourite too.” Jenn laughed, slipping easily into their usual rhythm of conversation.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Auntie Peigi said in that no-nonsense tone of hers—one that could sniff out emotional turmoil from a mile off. Like some kind of Hebridean emotional sniffer dog.

“I’ve already been discussing it with Vivi, here, Auntie Peigi.” Jenn sighed. “And it’s the same crap as before.”

“Sensible girl, that Vivi. Tell her I said hello.”

“Vivi, Auntie Peigi says ‘Hello!’” Jenn called into the kitchen.