I shouldn't have left him with MacLean, she thought after foot-tapping in the queue for what felt like an eternity. She was on the verge of exiting empty-handed when the chip man eventually said, ‘Right now, love, what can I get you?'
She ran back with the warm parcel in her hands, her head playing the most awful tricks on her. Danny and MacLean alone together! What sort of mother was she? To make it worse, she could hear sounds of distress that grew louder the nearer she got to the cottage. They weren't in her over-active imagination either – her boy really was screaming.
Stevie sprinted to the door and threw it open to find Danny squealing and MacLean attacking him. She threw down the parcel on the nearby dining table and launched herself at MacLean, climbing fearlessly on his back and trying to get a grip on his cropped hair. Failing, she started clobbering him with her handbag instead.
‘Get off my son, you animal!' she screeched.
‘Ow!' said Adam, the one word recognizable amongst the guttural exclamations of pain.
‘Mummy, what are you doing!' said Danny, watching her in a most unharmed way.
Stevie stopped mid-batter. ‘Are you okay, love?'
‘Yes, Adam was showing me some Well Life Man Superhero moves.'
Stevie slid down off Adam's back. ‘Sorry,' she said meekly, ‘I thought … '
‘S'okay,' said Adam, rubbing his head and wincing. ‘It's just a bit of jujitsu. It means "the gentle art". Maybe you should come tae a few classes. That's a heavy wee bag ye've got there.'
Stevie didn't mean to burst into laughter, but then it was a very odd day. The sort of day, in fact, that made the Big Dipper at Blackpool look like a baby ride. Adam's laugh joined hers, and then they both stopped abruptly. That was twice they'd shared laughter now; it was in danger of becoming a habit.
Adam arranged the fish on the plates and fish bits for Danny, whilst Stevie shared the chips out.
‘No chips for you, Dannyman?' said Adam.
‘I don't like chips,' said Danny.
‘Wannae try some of mine? Potatoes are really good for you, you know. They teach you that at Superhero School. Carbohydrates – give you energy. Isn't that right, Mammy?'
‘Erm … yes,' agreed Stevie.
Danny's face registered total amazement. ‘Really?'
There and then, the little boy rediscovered a fondness for the potato.
‘She's been for fish and chips,' said Matthew. He had unconsciously gravitated back to the window and become so engrossed in what he was witnessing that he hardly realized he was thinking aloud. Stevie was running back to the house as if the devil was on her heels – as if she couldn't keep away from him – which annoyed Matthew even further. ‘So he's eating there … '
‘Who is eating where?' said Jo. Realization dawned on her face and soured her smiling expression. ‘Oh I get it, you're spying on her. Why? Why are you so interested in her all the time?'
‘I'm not. Nothing could be further from my mind. Just thinking something through for work. Just looking into thin air, not over there. Pah!' said Matthew, desperately trying to head off an argument. Not wanting her to see MacLean's car, he whizzed the curtains shut. ‘Look, that's how much I care about her. Let's go into the garden, my love. Shall we open a bottle of wine? I think I could do with a glass.'
‘Yes, that would be nice,' said Jo, uncurling her lip. ‘Oh that reminds me – do you think ordinary champagne or vintage for the wedding toast?'
‘Er, let me think about that one,' said Matthew, and reached for the last remaining bottle of Chablis in his once impressively-sized wine cache.
‘So what was going on at the party then, with that idiot?' said Adam, helping Stevie to clear the table as Danny took an Alp of ice cream into the lounge.
‘Oh, he's one of the dads,' Stevie started to explain. ‘Once upon a time he found out that I can't stand loud noises – party poppers, crackers … .'
‘Tyres squealing … '
‘Precisely, and I hate – loathe – balloons. So he thinks it's hilarious to torment me with them every time he sees me.'
‘Could you no' tell him to bugger aff?'
‘I don't want to cause trouble,' said Stevie. ‘I can live with it. It was just that today he stepped over the mark. Said something a bit offensive.'
‘Whit?'
‘Oh nothing. It's probably just me over-reacting.'
‘No, c'moan, whit was it?'
‘No, really I can't, it's embarrassing.'
‘C'moan, tell me!'
Stevie pulled in a deep breath and told him.
‘Whit? Cheeky swine!' said Adam. He felt offended and angry for her. Why were some blokes such pigs? If he'd known that, he'd have … he'd have …
‘I would have batted it away, but today being today, well, it didn't help, I suppose,' Stevie went on, forcing out a smile.
‘Was it your … er … today?' Adam struggled and coughed over the key words.
‘Yes,' said Stevie, quickly changing the subject. ‘Anyway, coffee?'
‘Aye, please.'
She put the box of chocolates on the table that Crystal had sent her after reading the Paris and Brandon manuscript. She had loved it, apparently.
‘Oooh, choccies! And very expensive choccies tae!' said Adam with delight, and aimed for a knobbly-looking nut one.
‘Present from my boss,' said Stevie.
‘So what do you do again?'
‘Not telling.'
‘Oh come on, spill the beans. It cannae be that bad.'
She opened her mouth to tell him, then recalled that look he had given her book. It had been one of Midnight Moon's bestsellers too. No, she wouldn't tell him. There were only so many batterings her ego could take at the moment.
‘Have as many chocs as you like. An extra sorry for trying to scalp you,' said Stevie, putting a cafetière on the table.
‘No real damage done, so far as I can tell. I've a heid like a coconut,' he said with a twinkle and rapped on it with his knuckle. ‘That smells nice – what sort of coffee's that?'
‘Madagascan vanilla. I get it from the coffee shop in Town End, where they sell all the gorgeous puddings. I've a spare packet if you want to take it home with you. I always go a bit mad in the shop and overbuy.'
‘Thanks, that would be very nice,' said Adam, watching as Stevie crossed to the cupboard. Then he snatched his eyes away, suspecting he might have actually been on the verge of assessing her in a boy-girl way.
‘What flavour do you want?' Stevie started to read the labels. ‘Vanilla, Irish Liqueur, Maple Syrup and Walnut … er … Death by Chocolate?'
‘Oh, Death by Chocolate definitely.'
No surprise there then.
Stevie handed it over to him. ‘It'll make your house smell like a cake shop, that one.'
‘I'm no' bothered aboot the house,' said Adam quietly. ‘I don't want to be in there without Jo really, and there are just too many reminders of her around. If she doesn't come back, I'll sell it.'
‘Where would you go?'
‘I'd have to stay around the area for my job. I like it here, we made friends – you know, people like Will.'
‘He married my friend Catherine's cousin.'
‘Aye, so I gathered. He's a great guy. For a Lowlander.'
They sat in contemplative silence for a moment, both realizing that they might actually have to start making alternative plans for their lives soon, if Jo and Matthew didn't come back to them. Adam was going to move, it seemed. What would Stevie do? Where would she go?
Adam took the initiative and poured the coffee before it climbed out of the cafetière itself.
‘I don't think we need the hired-car adventure tomorrow now, do you?' he said, as he was halfway down his drink.
‘No, I think today's probably done the trick,' said Stevie, and she giggled suddenly without planning to. The sound resonated like a bell in the air. It was a sound that belonged to someone with a great capacity for joy, a merry heart. It jarred with the image he carried of her and was thus indigestible, and it made him feel uncomfortable for a reason he didn't understand. Grabbing up the coffee packet, he said stiffly, ‘Think I'd better make a move.'
‘Yes, of course,' Stevie responded, wondering what she had done to send him back into Gruff Land.
‘I'll ring you to discuss what we do next. Let me know if you hear anything.'
‘You'll have to say goodbye to Danny. You promised,' said Stevie.