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“Any time.”
We stand rather awkwardly next to each other, both making a show of brushing the dirt and bits of broken plants from our clothing.
“So, I…”
“Were you…”
We both begin to speak at the same time.
“Sorry,” I laugh. “You go first.”
He grins and ducks his head. “I was going to ask whether you were looking for me for something? I presume you exited that taxi voluntarily, albeit perhaps not with the intention of throwing yourself into my ditch.”
“Er…yeah…the ditch was not intended.”
“Wait, were you not supposed to be on a date with Ben tonight?”
I sigh.
He laughs. “That good, was it?”
“You needn’t look so pleased,” I grumble, swatting his arm.
“Serves you right for making the same mistake twice.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be your best friend?”
“Yeah, but I know he is an ass. I accept that. And I’m not the one dating him.”
“I’m not dating him.”
Corran looks at me, his eyes twinkling. “Just having dinner with him…?”
“Oh, alright, yes, it was a date. Originally. And yes, it was a mistake. You can wipe that sanctimonious smirk off your face, Corran Beattie,” I instruct. “Sometimes a woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do. I had questions…”
“Understandable,” he says with a nod. He pauses for a moment. “Did you get the answers you needed?”
“No. Well, kind of, yeah. I certainly got clarity.”
“Clarity?”
“Yes. That Ben does not have the answers I’m looking for.”
Corran’s eyes are gentle. “Can I help?” he asks.
I look at him. I’m not sure he can. I’m not sure how I can talk to him about these things. How do you tell your adolescent best friend, one you have only just reconnected with after twenty five years, that you think you might be in love with them? And that you suspect that somewhere in the past something went terribly wrong and that you are probably to blame for it?
“Would you like to step into my office?” He sweeps his hand towards a hay bale standing just inside the field. The patience in his demeanour makes my heart squeeze. That’s Corran. Always there for me.
“Yes,” I nod slowly. “Yes, I think I would.”
* * *
We sit on the top of the bale, gazing down the mountain at the sparkling expanse of Loch Mirrin. The summer sky stretches above us, an infinite canopy of blue with the occasion white puff cloud drifting over it.
I take a deep breath. “I just have one question,” I say.
“Okay.”
