Page 20 of The Love of Our Lives

After dropping my camera back in the flat, we head to town. The air has that crisp winter chill about it, which would usually make me burrow down at home in the evening in my old life, but out here with Adam, I’m energised by it.

While we walk, I ask about his work and he fills me in on what he’s upholstering at the moment, a whole suite of quirky furniture for a wealthy client up in Aberdeen. He asks about my day and I tell him about some of the pictures I took.

‘You really have an eye for it,’ he says. ‘You’re going to walk on to that course.’

‘Thanks,’ I say, an anxious feeling coming over me.

I’d worked out what course Adam had meant that time at the Fringe.

I’d found an application form for a photography degree, which made total sense with the camera, and I realised that this is what Emily had intended to do when she came up here, and that I should probably be applying too, if I don’t want to mess stuff up for her in the time I’m here.

But what if I don’t get in? What if I ruin Emily’s one shot?

If I’m being totally honest, I’m scared to apply for my sake too. What if I’m not good enough? I’ve spent so many years not taking any chances, not doing what I really wanted to do. What if it’s all just too late?

‘Well, I definitely think you should give it some thought,’ Adam says, as though he’s read my mind. ‘There’s never going to be a perfect time to try, and don’t worry about whether you’ll get in or not, because your photos are brilliant.’

A few moments later, and Adam comes to a stop in front of a strange-looking entrance. Across the door, I see the words Pharmacy written in gold lettering.

‘Here we are,’ Adam says.

I pause, confused.

‘Here?’

‘Yup,’ he says, a smile playing on his lips. He opens the door, and I see a steep staircase going down behind it.

‘It’s a speakeasy,’ he grins.

‘Ah,’ I say, as it finally makes sense, ‘and here was me thinking bars were legal these days.’

He laughs, starts to walk down, and I follow. Glancing back, he says, ‘You must have been to one of these in London, surely, when you were there?’

I shake my head lightly. ‘I didn’t really manage to get out all that much.’

‘Well, you’ll like this place,’ he says. ‘There’s just something about a bar pretending to be a pharmacy that I kind of love. You wouldn’t know the fun until you peel back the top layer.’

I smile, thinking I sort of feel the same way.

The inside is pretty plush in comparison to the rather sterile walk down – all dark floorboards and leather backs, red velvet seats and a bar filled with bottles of all shapes and sizes.

As soon as we walk in, one long arm shoots up in the corner, and we head towards Sven and who I assume is Charlie.

She’d be pretty hard to miss anyway – with her head of blonde curls, scarlet-red lipstick and a retro polka dot dress.

She looks more like someone from the fifties than this era.

She beams widely and stands as we approach, but then something else passes over her face.

Some trace of surprise and something which definitely looks like recognition.

Shit.

‘Emily, isn’t it?’ She smiles, and pulls me into a hug.

My mind goes crazy as she holds me – how does she know Emily? And how much does she know about her? And then an image hits me: Charlie’s smiling face in some sort of hall, her mouth talking as she passes me a yellow flyer – the one I found in the flat.

‘I was so jealous when Sven said he’d met you already,’ Charlie says, stepping back now, grinning, ‘but turns out, I already have. I haven’t seen you at my classes yet though, I don’t think?’

‘Oh, well, I’ve been really busy with some stuff,’ I say, feeling a bit odd suddenly, dizzy, because it was like a memory I’ve never had just came back to me. Just like with that photo of Simon and the receipt Fran mentioned.

‘Hello again,’ Sven says to me now, ‘good to see you,’ and he embraces me before clapping Adam on the back.

‘Right, what can I get you guys to drink?’ Adam says, rubbing his hands from the cold.

‘I’ll take a beer, thanks,’ Sven says.

‘The fizziest water you’ve got,’ Charlie beams.

Adam touches my arm, and I blink up at him. ‘Emily, you?’

‘Um, I’ll take a small red, please.’

‘Great, I’ll see if they’ve got any of that Malbec we enjoyed the other night,’ he says and heads off.

As I sit down, I can feel Sven and Charlie both looking at me expectedly. I still feel confused about the strange memories and then renewed panic takes over as I remember Charlie knows at least something I don’t know about Emily. I just need to figure out what.

‘So,’ Charlie says, ‘this is certainly a very small world. Are you settling in OK? Did you ever find the Close you were looking for?’

I pause, my heart thumping. ‘The Close?’

She smiles encouragingly but looks vaguely confused too. ‘Yeah, the little alleyways on the Royal Mile? You said you were looking for one in particular. God, what was it called again?’

As she wracks her brain, I try to pull the conversation back to Charlie’s first question. ‘I’m settling in OK,’ I say, ‘and I’m sorry I’ve not been to the classes yet . . . I’ve just had a lot on recently.’

‘All good things, I hope?’ Sven says.

‘Oh, yes,’ I reply, ‘a bit of photography and running and stuff. I’ll need to come back for one of your pizzas sometime.’

‘Absolutely do.’

Charlie’s eyes widen. ‘Dunbar, that’s it!’

‘I’m sorry?’ I say, my heart thumping.

‘Dunbar.’ She grins, and claps her hands together. ‘That was the name of the Close you were looking for. God, that was killing me.’

‘Oh yes, right,’ I play along. ‘So it was.’

Charlie leans in now. ‘So tell me, what exactly is the deal with you and Adam?’

‘Oh, nothing at all,’ I say quickly, relieved to be changing the topic of conversation. ‘We’re just good friends.’

Charlie smiles mischievously at me. ‘OK.’

Sven rolls his eyes fondly. ‘You’ll have to excuse my Charlie here; she gets a little excited about stuff like this.’

‘And why not?’ Charlie says. ‘I can’t remember the last time Adam was with someone, not since Claire anyway.’

‘That’s true,’ Sven says.

I can’t help but feel a stab of curiosity and confusion. I thought Adam never stuck in one place, so was Claire a long-term thing? Was it recent? But if I ask any questions, then they’ll definitely think something is going on between us.

And there’s nothing – obviously.

‘It’s nice still having him here at any rate,’ Charlie says, and Sven shoots her a look.

‘Oh yes, he did mention he likes to go away a lot,’ I say, as nonchalantly as I can, but I can’t help feeling vaguely unsettled.

‘He’s still in Edinburgh now,’ Charlie raises one arched eyebrow, ‘so maybe there’s something keeping him here.’

My chest flutters.

‘Here, try this,’ Charlie says now, passing the cocktail she had previously been drinking across to me. ‘I shouldn’t really be drinking right now anyway.’

I don’t ask her why because I’ve only just met her, but I take a small sip of the fruity concoction. The flavours are all kinds of wonderful and I feel myself warming up. ‘Go on,’ she says, ‘you finish it.’

‘Not unless you want me drunk by nine,’ I smile, and Charlie just laughs before pushing it towards Sven.

‘What kind of dancing is it you do anyway?’ I ask.

‘Can’t you tell?’ Charlie indicates at her dress. ‘Swing.’

‘Charlie here likes to do everything full hog, so that includes your everyday outfits.’ Sven grins and I know instinctively I’m going to love these guys.

‘I’ve got to admit,’ I say, ‘I haven’t danced since I was about twelve.’

Charlie looks at me, her big blue eyes aghast. ‘What do you mean?’

Beside her, Sven’s eyes widen in mock-fear. ‘Oh, you’ve done it now,’ he mutters. I look at him confused.

‘Explain again,’ Charlie says, clutching my hand now. ‘You never told me that the first time. What do you mean, you haven’t danced since you were twelve? Because everyone should dance, honey. It’s our God-given right, if I believed in that stuff, I mean.’

‘You just believe in the dance gods,’ Sven says, taking a sip of his pint.

I smile at Charlie’s still vaguely traumatised face. ‘I just . . . never got the chance, I guess.’

‘What about school, or at festivals or parties?’

‘What about disco dancing?’ Sven says, making little pointy actions with his finger.

I shake my head. ‘Not really, no. My older sister was the dancing queen in the family.’

Charlie looks genuinely troubled and I’m worried for a moment if my revelation has actually caused her some damage.

But then she squeezes my hand tighter, looks at me dead on.

‘We can resolve this,’ she says, and before I can say anything, she’s pulled me up to the empty dance floor.

Nerves surge through me and people glance over, as Charlie runs off to speak to the DJ in the corner.

I look over at Sven, bewildered, but he just grins, gives me two thumbs up.

Adam is over at the bar sorting the drinks and clearly hasn’t noticed yet.

‘What’s she doing?’ I try to say to Sven, but my words are immediately swallowed by the music. A sound I’ve definitely heard before.

Swing music.

Oh god.

‘All right,’ Charlie says, rushing back to me. She looks me up and down, repositions me slightly.

‘All right, what?’ I say, and she grins at me.

‘We’re going to start by taking our left leg, and then move it back like this.’

After a moment, I find myself hesitantly doing as she says. Heat flushes up my neck but I can’t deny that the music is pretty fun. And no one is properly looking, I guess. Not really .

‘That’s it,’ she beams, ‘now forwards, like this.’

I copy what she does, leg back, leg forwards.