On Wednesday morning, I find another handwritten note on the countertop when I go through to the kitchen to make my breakfast. This time it’s Shep asking if I want to meet him before the show for a fish supper, which makes me smile, because now he has a phone again and we’ve swapped numbers, he could have just messaged me. Nevertheless, I’m delighted by this invitation, which – not being one for early rises – he must have left there the night before, and I leave him one in return, saying I’ll meet him outside The Canongate Tavern at 5:45p.m.
After what feels like the second longest day ever at work, I take the bus into town as planned and arrive at the pub nearly ten minutes late.
‘How’s about you?’ Shep greets me with a laddish grin then spots my confused expression. ‘I’m asking how you are.’
‘Oh, right… Good, thanks.’ I mirror his wide smile. ‘Sorry I’m late. Damn rush-hour buses.’
‘Are you late? I didn’t notice.’
‘Oh, well, that’s good. I… um…’ I continue to smile at him, and suddenly feel myself becoming tongue-tied and unable to finish my sentence.
He gives me an odd look. ‘Shall we go get some food, then?’
‘Yes. Definitely. Where shall we go? I don’t often eat fish and chips, so I don’t know where’s good.’
‘There’s a place on South Bridge that’s not bad.’
‘Great.’ I fiddle with my hair, less at ease in Shep’s company than I’ve been previously.
What the hell is wrong with me? I was all weird last night and now this. Am I catching real feelings for him? Was Tanya right? Because all the things that seem to be drawing me to Shep are not the usual magnetics that get me hooked on a guy – like height and ‘smoothness’ and smouldering rugby-player good looks. Or is it simply that the tables have turned and he doesn’t need me so much anymore? Am I now the one needing him? Sad lonely Lea, who just wants someone to hang out with. I grimace at this self-criticism, not liking what it says about me, but at the same time finding it difficult to refute.
‘Are you all right, Lea?’ Shep peers at me. ‘You seem a bit off.’
‘Eh, I’m fine.’ I force the smile I was wearing before to return to my lips. ‘Let’s go eat.’
We snake our way through the never-ending flow of tourists to the takeaway on South Bridge. Then, armed with two fish suppers, drowned in salt and sauce, we head across the road to Hunter Square, where we’re lucky enough to find a rare space on the steps at the back of the Tron Kirk to devour our food. The lack of interaction caused by my mind having crashed like a faulty laptop isn’t much of a problem while we’re getting our food and finding somewhere to eat it. However, once we’re seated among a sea of happy, chatty people, the conversational lull between us becomes quite obvious.
Munching away on a chip, I try to think of a topic of conversation with some longevity, or even just something semi-interesting to mention, but it’s like my brain has gone on strike. It’s also clear that Shep has picked up on my strange behaviour and is unsure how to manage this.
‘You’ve never really told me anything about your family.’ He finally breaks the silence between us, much to my relief. ‘What’s your backstory? Better than mine, I hope.’
‘There’s not that much to tell, to be honest.’ I shrug, and unless I’m imagining things, he looks slightly concerned that this is all I’m going to say on the matter. ‘I’m an only child, so no brothers or sisters. Growing up, it was just me, my mum and dad… until they split up.’
‘Ah, shit. Child of a messy divorce?’
‘Yes and no. My parents fought a lot when they were together. I used to sit in my room and cry while they were at each other’s throats for hours on end.’
‘That’s rough.’ Shep looks gutted for me.
‘It was, but believe it or not, it’s not what dominates my childhood memories. One day, I got brave and I came out of my room and shouted at them… like, really went for it. I told them if they hated each other that much, they should get a divorce. So they did. And apart from being constantly shipped back and forth between two homes, it was kind of happy ever after from there.’
‘Really?’
‘No, not quite.’ I chuckle. ‘I’m sure they still argued after that, but never again in my presence. They even went to a marriage counsellor at one point, while they were still working through things. Apparently, it helped them see that they still had something major in common – me – and that they could be a strong parental unit, even if they weren’t together anymore.’
‘Did that work?’ Shep glugs from his can of juice.
‘It did. The counsellor gave them a “toolkit”, which they followed religiously – I think mainly out of guilt that they had caused me hurt – and I swear they then got on better than they ever did. So, really, them splitting up was the best thing that could have happened.’
‘That’s great that they were able to put you first. It sounds like a no-brainer, but from what I’ve heard from friends whose folks have divorced, it’s often not pretty at all.’
‘I’ve heard similar stories, so I consider myself lucky.’ I stab at my fish with my wooden fork, trying to separate off a piece small enough to pop in my mouth. ‘It was even quite cool having two bedrooms. The only negative by-product of it all was that, with their focus being entirely on me, they became overprotective and kind of stifled me.’
Shep gives a reflective nod. ‘That’s not the worst, so long as you still had a chance to spread your wings, so to speak.’
‘I did when I moved here. They still worry about me, but they’ve finally accepted they need to do that from a distance. They’re fab parents, really. In the grand scheme of things, I think I’ve done well with them.’
‘Sounds like it. Think I’d rather have what you have than the shitshow that is my family.’
‘Yeah, I’m sorry about that.’ I furrow my brow sympathetically.
‘Don’t be.’ He nudges me affectionately, making me feel kind of warm and fuzzy, and comfortable in his company again. ‘It is what it is. Tell me, do your folks know about me staying with you?’
‘Take a guess.’
‘That’s what I thought. Have they any plans to visit in the immediate future? Not sure I want knocked into next week so soon after last time.’
‘Aww, no, don’t worry about that.’ I giggle lightly, nudging him back. ‘My dad works away a lot – I think he’s somewhere in Europe at the moment – and my mum would never turn up without making an arrangement first.’
‘Good to know.’ Shep looks relieved by this. ‘Hey, I never asked you if you know Cath Armstrong, the comedian I got you the tickets for?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t. But I looked her up on my lunch break and I see she’s been likened to Sarah Millican. I love Sarah Millican, so that’s a good sign.’
‘Great, I expect you’ll like her, then. Kira’s seen her live and thought she was hilarious. It was actually her suggestion to go for that show.’
And just like that, my mood plummets. Nothing could take the shine off Shep’s kind and thoughtful gesture more than knowing that his new ‘girlfriend’ was involved in cooking it up, probably in between making out and doing all sorts that I don’t want to think too deeply about.
With so much confusion rattling round my head, I’m not able to enjoy Shep’s show as much as I did the first time. In fact, I have a hard time paying it any attention at all. This is everything to do with my issues and nothing to do with his delivery, which is as seamless as it was last time. When it’s over, I consider heading straight home without waiting around, but I don’t want to be rude, so I hang back like I did before.
‘Great show, once again.’ I touch his arm gently as he waves off his final audience members. ‘And almost a full house. That’s got to be a good sign.’
‘I reckon so. Things are definitely picking up.’ He tips his donations bucket towards me and I see that there are several banknotes in there, a far healthier picture than before.
‘I’m so pleased for you.’
Despite my low mood, I do 100 per cent mean this.
‘So, what are you up to now?’ I ask. ‘Are you heading back to the flat?’
‘Uh, no. I thought I’d hang around for a drink or two. Kira’s getting off shift shortly, so I said I’d have a beer with her… um… Do you wanna join us?’
He rubs the back of his neck, which I read as him giving away his discomfort in making this invitation, perhaps because he was planning to spend their time together with his tongue down her throat. My sitting with them like a lemon would ruin that opportunity and probably also the mood. I’m a bit winded by this thought, and it leaves me in no doubt as to what my answer should be.
‘Thanks, but no, I’ll head off home and leave you to it. I’ll see you later – or tomorrow – yeah?’
To my horror, hot tears prick at my eyes, and I find myself praying I can get out of here with my dignity intact.
‘Aye, OK.’ Shep’s forehead creases with what I assume is a guilty conscience.
Quickly turning away before I make a fool of myself, I scuttle through the pub towards the exit, glancing across at the bar as I go. There’s a young woman there pulling a pint while chatting to a punter, and as the other servers are both men, it makes sense that this must be the infamous Kira. Seeing how pretty she is, with perfectly tonged, glossy dark-chocolate hair, full red lips and beautifully applied eye makeup, I make a last-ditch attempt to swallow down my hurt before my face crumples, and I rush out onto the street, letting the door slam shut behind me as I do.
Relentless tears flow down my cheeks while I swipe at them, humiliated by my own behaviour. Pacing up the street, I’m unable to keep my head down as I navigate my way past the other pedestrians, meaning I see all the curious, sympathetic and even pitying looks I’m attracting by being in such a state – again. Eventually, the eyes of the tourists become too much to bear, so I duck inside the entrance to one of the Royal Mile’s many old closes to get a hold of myself.
Why am I even crying? Because my temporary lodger has found himself a girlfriend? That’s utterly ridiculous. I know I’m lonely and I’ve latched onto Shep as a short-term relief from the emptiness in my life, but is that really what this is all about?
Or is it that I have actually found ‘everything I never knew I was looking for’, as Tanya suggested, and realised too late? I mean, Shep is funny – obviously – and great company. He’s really thoughtful and good-looking in a non-sporty kind of way, but that’s not what I go for – not normally, anyway.
Though right now, I have to admit, I feel far less of an aversion to the idea of kissing him. Actually, I’m almost wishing that he had come after me and swept me into his arms. I’m also now realising that I don’t just hate the idea of Kira strutting around my apartment because I don’t want to feel like a spare part in my own home – I’m actually suffering from full-on jealousy. I don’t want her around, because I think I want Shep for myself.
Wait, that can’t be right. How can I have U-turned in this way in just three days? Could I be experiencing similar ‘rescue romance’ feelings to those I thought Shep might be having for me on Sunday night? Like, because I’ve been enjoying his company and I’m less lonely, I’m now mistaking these positive sensations for a romantic connection?
‘Arghh, I don’t know,’ I wail, attracting the attention of a few people passing the close.
‘Lea?’ Shep suddenly appears out of nowhere, joining me just inside the entranceway. ‘Hey, what’s with you? Janusz from the bar just told me you ran out of the place in tears.’
‘Nothing. It’s nothing, I’m just being daft.’ I dab at my eyes with my sleeve.
‘This is not nothing. Something’s clearly up if you’re crying. How can I help you?’
‘You can’t. Look, I’m fine, really.’
He digs in his pockets, producing a pack of tissues, which he hands to me. ‘Here. I’m always prepared thanks to the crappy invention of hay fever.’
‘I wouldn’t say hay fever was “invented” as such.’ I smile pathetically at him through my tears.
‘Don’t you be going all scientist on me.’ He frowns, but his eyes remain kind and caring. ‘Especially if you’re using it as a diversion tactic. I know when someone’s giving me the runaround, so be warned.’
I let out a half-laugh, half-cough as he steps forward and offers me a hug, which I melt into. It feels so warm and comforting, and as he lets me go, I notice for the first time how green his eyes are, and that they sort of glint like emeralds in the half-light. His teeth are so lovely and white as well, and he has this adorable dimple hiding in among his days-old stubble.
‘Now, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to force it out of you?’ He keeps one arm around me, tucking me into his armpit, while I snuggle into him, enjoying this moment of human closeness, despite the turmoil of my emotions.
Realising that I probably shouldn’t vocalise anything about being attracted to him until I figure out if these feelings are real, I don’t know what to say. The last thing Shep needs right now is further complication in his life, and to be honest, why would he ever choose me over the raven-haired, doe-eyed beauty that is Kira?
‘Come on, you,’ he coaxes me. ‘Don’t go disappearing into that head of yours like you did earlier.’
I consider telling him about the fact that I have no one to go to the comedy show with on Saturday, as a way of getting out of admitting what’s really going on, but the can of worms that would open would be equally, if not more, painful. I’m terrified he’ll think I’m a loser for having no friends to hang out with – and for inviting him to stay to fill a big gaping hole in my life. But at the same time, I can’t make up a lie, because that’s just not who I am.
At a loss, I gaze up at him mutely with sad, apologetic eyes and for the first time since I met him just a few days ago, I see frustration and borderline annoyance reflected back at me. To my disappointment, he drops his arm from around me.
‘OK, I get it,’ he says. ‘You don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. We’ve only known each other a few days, and perhaps you’re regretting inviting me to stay. But the thing is, Lea, I haven’t a bad bone in my body. I wish you got that.’
‘I do. Honestly, I do.’ I try my best to reassure him.
‘Are you sure? Because everyone else I’ve met here seems to trust me more than you do. Kira certainly does.’
I take a faltering breath and avert my gaze. ‘Of course she does.’
‘What was that?’
‘Nothing. Sorry.’
Shep exhales heavily, then seems to come to an agreement with himself. ‘Look, I don’t want to upset you, Lea, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home. There’s something going on with you – that’s been evident from the first day we met – and while I don’t have the right to ask you anything personal, I do have the right to make a judgement on this living situation. I’m clearly adding to your problems, so I think maybe it’s best if I leave.’
‘What?’ My mouth drops open with disbelief. ‘Where would you even go?’
He shrugs despondently. ‘I don’t know. Maybe Kira or one of the others might be able to help me out.’
I wince on hearing Kira’s name, yet again.
‘Anyway, I’m not helping here, so I’ll leave you in peace. And I’ll get myself packed up and out of your place by tomorrow morning.’
He shoots me what I interpret as a pitying look, then turns to walk out of the close, sending my mind spinning.
Is this what Shep’s wanted all along? Has Kira already offered him a bed, and he’s trying to find an excuse to go? If that’s the case, then nothing I can say will make a difference. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I’ve magicked up these romantic notions, because after finding someone to spend time with, I’m losing him so quickly.
But what if I haven’t? What if I really do like him? If these feelings are real, then I have to at least test them out before it’s too late.
‘Wait,’ I call after him, just as he’s about to disappear out of sight.
He stops and turns back towards me, a weary expression on his face. ‘What is it, Lea?’
This reaction nearly causes me to wimp out, but I force myself to ignore the anxious churning in my gut. I march right up to him and kiss him, with absolutely no idea how he’s going to respond.