AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Ooh, what are we talking about? Sounds juicy!”
I look up in surprise as Rose’s Hermes handbag appears before me, followed closely by Rose herself, who I’d completely forgotten I’d arranged to meet here to go over the wedding plans. She’s wearing a pair of tailored shorts, with a closely-fitted waistcoat, and strappy high heeled sandals — which must have been an absolute nightmare on the cobbled streets of Heather Bay. Frankie and McTavish look at her as if she’s a different species.
“Um, it’s nothing,” I mumble, turning red. “McTavish was just catching us up with what’s happening onNeighbours. Weren’t you, McTavish?”
“Aye,” says McTavish, recovering himself. “I love that show, so I do. Wouldnae miss it.”
Rose turns to look at him curiously.
“Well, isn’t that lovely,” she coos, speaking as if she thinks he might be hard of thinking. “It’s nice to have a little hobby, isn’t it?”
I shoot a warning glance at Frankie, who I can see is firing up, ready to call out Rose’s patronizing tone.
“Rose, these are my best friends,” Frankie and McTavish,” I say. “Guys, this is Jack’s sister, Rose.”
“Were yer parentsTitanicfans?” asks McTavish eagerly once the introductions are out of the way. Rose just looks at him blankly, as if she’s having trouble understanding him — which she may well be, to be fair.
“Come on McTavish,” Frankie says, giving Rose a frosty look as she stands up. “Let’s leave these two to their plotting. I’m sure Emerald has multiple lists to work through.”
“That reminds me, actually,” I say. “I don’t suppose either of you knows where the nearest gym is, do you? I need to get in shape for the wedding.”
“Why, will you be running to it?” asks Frankie, who once bought a t-shirt with “This Is My Beach Body, Deal With It,” on the front to wear on holiday. “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she says, sticking her tongue out. “Actually, I do know where there’s a gym, as it happens. Brian started one last month.”
“Brian? As in Brian from the bank?”
“Aye. Well, no — he’s not from the bank anymore, obviously, now he’s got the gym. He says fitness was always his first love, so he’s decided to leave the rat race and help people discover their best selves; or some shite like that.”
“Right. That’s… well, good for him, I guess. A gym, though? In Heather Bay? Where is it?”
“In a shed in Brian’s back garden,” says McTavish. “I helped him build it. It’s no’ so much a ‘gym’ really as it’s a shed. In Brian’s back garden.”
“So you said. So how does that work, then?” I’m bemused, but also fascinated by this. And if there’s a way for me to “discover my best self” before the wedding, then you better believe I’m going to give it a try.
“Just go and see him,” says McTavish mysteriously. “Brian’ll explain it all.”
Frankie hauls him out of the door with a wave, and I turn reluctantly back to Rose.
“They seem … nice,” she says brightly, delving into her bag and producing a gorgeous, leather-bound notebook, which I instantly covet.
I look at her warily. Thanks to yesterday’s never-ending game of ‘Do You Remember?’ I didn’t really get a chance to chat to her much when she arrived, and this is the first time I’ve spent time alone with her — which makes me worry that I’m going to do something stupid.
Which I probably am; let’s face it.
“Do you want something to eat?” I ask, nodding towards the menu board on the wall of the cafe, just above the glass box containing the stuffed wildcat that gave the place its name. “Or drink, maybe? I’m going to get another coffee.”
Rose looks up at the menu, and wrinkles her nose in distaste. “Haggis and chips,” she reads, giggling. “Yuck. And Deep Fried Mars Bars! No wonder Scottish people are so pasty looking. Er, no offense, Emerald.”
“None taken,” I reply, having absolutely taken offense. “The Mars Bars are just for the tourists, though. The locals wouldn’t touch them.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Rose says, her china-blue eyes — which are almost an exact match for Jack’s — widening in a show of sincerity. “I didn’t mean anything by that, I swear. I’ve always wished I was a redhead, actually. It’s so unusual, isn’t it? That porcelain skin and fiery hair! So dramatic! Us blue-eyed-brunettes are just so common in comparison!”
I blink rapidly, not knowing quite what to say to that.
It must be such a burden, looking like a supermodel? Sorry you got hit so hard with the ugly stick?
The thing about Rose, though, is that she’s impossible to work out. I have literally no idea whether she’s trying to give me a genuine compliment or just being sarcastic. And I want to believe she’s one of those nice-but-dim upper-class girls, who just never really learned to think before they speak (Not that I can talk, mind you…), but then I think of the way she patronized McTavish, and my hackles rise again.
“I’ve made some lists,” she says now, oblivious to my dilemma. “Jack told me you like lists?”
