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“Oh, Stu! I’d be delighted!” Ewan’s smile was megawatt bright. “Come with me, man! At least for a lager.”
I agreed, finding myself with no excuse or plans. Ewan could drink. After a pint of lager, he insisted I join him for dinner too, both of us ordering beef pies, veggies and more lagers, ending the night with a whisky - Gallanach of course. Ewan regaled me with stories of when my father managed the distillery, some involving Da in comprising situations. I laughed heartily, again feeling lighter than I had in years.
Just like I’d felt with Amanda at George’s.
I cleared my throat and stared into my whisky.
“I’m ballsing it up at work, aren’t I?” My voice was so low I didn’t realise I’d spoken out loud, until Ewan clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re finding your feet, laddie. It takes time.”
“I’ve had two years to find my feet and I’m still looking. Ye might as well call me a blind fool.”
I shifted in my seat. Had I said too much just now?
“Nonsense, son!” He pointed at me, nodding. “Ye gained our respect when ye got rid of your cousin, Stephen, four months back. Mort was tough but he didn’t have the heart to let family go, which I can somewhat understand. But ye cannae respect family who are set to destroy ye, now, eh?”
“What do you mean, ‘destroy us’?” I scratched at my scruff on my chin. “Stephen was light fingered and disrespectful but that’s about it.”
Ewan shrugged. “Thieving from your family sounds like you’re destroying a business to me.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Oooh, now! Did I tell ye about my eldest daughter? Got married again two months ago.”
Ewan rambled on about how his eldest was married for the third time. I tried to focus but his words about my cousin rattled in my head, until our glasses were drained and I bid him good night.
I stumbled into my flat late, buzzed from lager and whisky.
Someone was singing.
Amanda.
A sloppy grin spread across my face. She was a good singer, but I couldn’t make out the words. I pressed against the door and listened; a country song, I thought.
I started to hum along. It was catchy and her voice lured me, like the sirens who lured sailors to their fate, singing on a treacherous, rocky shore. I wanted to throw myself at her; consequences be damned!
“Stuart?” Amanda’s voice came from the other side of the door. “That you?”
I jumped with a snort, running a hand through my hair. Oh man, how loud had I been humming?
“Ehm, yeah?”
“I didn’t realise you were home.”
“Just got in.”
A pause stretched out between us.
“Amanda, about today, I’m -”
“Stuart, I -”
We huffed out embarrassed laughs.
“What I need to say should be said in person,” I said. “Can I open the door, hen? Please? Are ye decent?”
Lust tugged low in my gut at the idea of her not being decent. But I pushed that thought away, focusing on what I had to say.
“I am, but -”
“Okay, then.” I opened the door and a dining chair fell towards me.
