Page 15 of Healing Hearts on Thistledown Lane, Part Two

He took two unsteady steps towards the car. The driver eyed him doubtfully. ‘Is he fit to travel? It’s a hundred quid if he throws up.’

‘He’ll be fine on the journey,’ Maura said, guiding Jamie towards the open door. ‘Getting him out at the other end might be trickier.’

The driver’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I cannae help with that, pal. I’ve got a bad back.’

Fraser shook his head. ‘That settles it,’ he said, as Maura slid onto the back seat beside Jamie. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘You don’t need to do that,’ Maura objected, but it was too late. Fraser had opened the front passenger door and was climbing into the seat. ‘Thistledown Lane in Dean Village.’

Muttering under his breath, the cabbie turned the car around and set off.

The journey was not the most direct route but, late in the evening, it was mercifully quick.

Once they had pulled up outside the flat, Fraser paid the driver and they set about easing Jamie out of the back seat.

‘You keep him upright, I’ll open the front door,’ Maura panted to Fraser as the cab’s tail-lights receded into the night.

Somehow, between them, they got him up the stairs. He staggered the few remaining steps to the living room and crashed down upon the sofa. A few seconds later, he began to snore. Maura stared at him, painfully aware of Fraser beside her, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

‘Well,’ he said, after a moment had passed. ‘This wasn’t how I expected the evening to finish. I had my eye on the sticky toffee pudding.’

It was enough to break Maura’s fragile self-control. She let out a snort of laughter, which turned into a sob, and tears were tumbling down her cheeks before she could stop them. ‘Hey,’ Fraser said, frowning in concern. ‘It’s okay. No need for that.’

‘I’m just so bloody embarrassed,’ she said, between hiccups. ‘What must you think of me?’

He watched her for a moment, then turned her gently to face him. ‘I think the same as I always have. Your drunken lump of a boyfriend hasn’t changed that.’

Misery flooded through her. He couldn’t mean it. ‘No, but—’

‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘I have some doubts about your taste in men, but my basic opinion of you is the same as ever. You’re a clever, generous, talented woman and I consider myself lucky to know and work with you.’

She sniffed and wiped her nose hurriedly, in case a snot bubble materialised to make her ruination complete. ‘I’m sorry.’

Fraser smiled. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. And I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but one day, we’ll look back on this and laugh.’

Jamie chose that moment to let out a particularly toe-curling snore.

Maura shook her head. ‘I doubt that. But thank you for helping me get him home. And I’m sorry he was so… well, so drunk.’

‘Stop apologising,’ Fraser said. ‘It was the least I could do. But I am going to get out of your way now. Is there anything you need before I go?’

She sighed. ‘A memory wiping device so I never have to think of tonight again?’

‘Can’t help with that,’ Fraser said. ‘And it wasn’t all bad. We had a pretty good evening until Mr Whisky Pants here showed up.’

The sheer ridiculousness of the name coaxed a reluctant smile from Maura. ‘We did. Thank you, for the meal and for everything you’re doing to make the ghosts a success.’

He nodded. ‘Like I said, it’s no bother. I’ll message you in the morning to check in.’

She followed him down the stairs and watched as he opened the door to step out into the night. ‘Thanks, Fraser. I owe you one.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ he said, and reached up to brush a stray curl from her forehead. ‘That’s what friends are for.’

The brush of his fingers only lasted a second but it felt to Maura as though her skin had been set alight, reminding her of another starlit night outside a different door.

If she took a step towards Fraser, would he reciprocate?

If she laid a hand on his arm, would his fingers wrap around hers?

And if she closed her eyes and tipped her face to his, would he kiss her the way he had on that other velvet night?

All of these thoughts spun through her mind in less time than it took for her to blink.

Above them, the stars held their breath.

In the distance, the Water of Leith sang a love song as it burbled over its stony bed.

Maura’s heartbeat sped up and slowed, and it seemed, just for that moment, that she and Fraser were nineteen again, with their lives unravelled into glittering strands, waiting to be woven anew.

And then a car horn blared somewhere nearby, and reality reasserted itself with abrupt and painful force. They were not teenagers – what was done was done and she had no right to dream about kissing anyone except Jamie.

Afraid that Fraser might somehow divine her scandalous thoughts, Maura took a hurried step backwards and gripped the doorframe to anchor herself to the here and now. Squashing down an ache of regret, she took refuge in what she hoped was a friendly but business-like smile.

‘Goodnight, Fraser,’ she said, before her treacherous emotions could give her away, and closed the door.

End of Part Two