Page 34 of The Love of Our Lives

Inside, Charlie and Sven have already got everything sorted after they picked the key up from the rental agency in town a little earlier. The ramshackle kitchen is stuffed full of fresh bread, fruit, wine and biscuits.

‘You didn’t need to do this,’ I say, walking in.

‘Oh, don’t be silly,’ Charlie tells me, ‘I’m the one eating for two anyway. Coffee, guys? Or are you ready for cocktails?’ She grins.

‘Cocktails would be amazing,’ I say, feeling a buzz of excitement. With all the activities and nights out I’ve been doing recently, I’ve come to love that rush of adrenalin coursing through me, this absolute high that comes from seizing the moment.

It’s all so different to my old life.

As Charlie and Sven get busy in the kitchen, I find myself wandering around the space I used to know so well.

The scent of old books and rugs, the clementine soap Mum used to use.

It’s still around me and it takes all my strength not to flinch at the family photo hanging beside the old red Aga – of Mum, Dad, Cat, Jess and me, up here about six months before it happened.

Mum and Dad are in the background near the loch with Jess, smiling away, while I stand somewhere nearby.

And right up at the camera is Cat, so close that her features are huge and she’s grinning like mad down the lens – a rare weekend away from Fraser.

‘Nice family,’ Adam says beside me. Hurriedly wiping tears away, I move forwards into living area, dump my bag on the floor.

‘How did you say that you knew them again?’ Adam asks, doing the same.

‘Oh, just family acquaintances,’ I say quickly, before taking in the cosy room.

Still the same stripy rug, still the small ketchup stain down the back of the cream sofa – from a game of pirates Cat insisted on us playing when we were younger.

My parents have updated a few things, I guess – that trendy standing lamp in the corner and the new armchairs by the fire.

But it’s more for the rental guests than themselves.

After all, they don’t come up here anymore either.

Everyone crying. A darkness like no other.

Suddenly I feel a little strange; I’m not sure this was a brilliant idea after all.

‘You OK?’ Adam says and I open my eyes. I didn’t realise they were shut.

‘Yup,’ I say quickly and turn to him. ‘I’ll show you where the bedrooms are.’

‘Oh, just to say,’ Charlie calls over, ‘we dumped our bags in the double downstairs, but it looked like there were two rooms under the eaves upstairs, if that suits you guys?’

‘Yup,’ I say, a little breathlessly, ‘that works fine for me.’

‘Suits me too,’ Adam adds, and I’m sure he sounds a little breathless too.

Later in the evening, we’re all sitting around the table, laughing away over wine like nothing much has changed.

Sven made the most gorgeous roast, with locally sourced venison and an outrageous amount of side dishes – potatoes, winter greens, cauliflower cheese and more, all washed down by the bottles of Malbec Adam picked up from the little French place in Tollcross.

We go pretty heavy on the alcohol (other than Charlie) and I know I’m topping up everyone’s glasses a bit too regularly but I just really want to have fun on this trip – the real sort of abandoned fun that I’ve never had before.

I instigate a game of Flip Cup and we dance around the living room and I laugh so much it hurts.

Charlie and I chat through every possible crazy baby name we can think of and demolish a box of Celebrations together, and I have such a sense of warmth and headiness that makes me want to do this all over again.

‘Oh god,’ Charlie says eventually with a yawn, ‘I’m sorry, it’s not even ten o’clock and I’m already turning into a bloody pumpkin.’

‘Come on,’ I say, unwilling for the fun to stop, ‘before you know it, you’ll have a baby in tow and these sorts of nights will just be a dream.’

She nods in defeat. ‘OK, maybe one more of those mocktails for me please.’

‘There you go,’ I say as I bounce off with her glass. After all, there’s no need to have a super-quiet pregnancy like Jess’s – all she did the whole time was watch TV on the sofa while looking out for the boys’ alien-like belly kicks.

The rest of us have another real cocktail, of course, and I can see Sven and Adam’s eyes start to blear.

I’m feeling pretty woozy now, intoxicated by all the drinks, but it doesn’t matter if we stay up late – we’ll just dose up on caffeine tomorrow morning.

You only live once after all, and in Emily’s specific case, for only four months more.

‘All right, guys,’ Sven says about an hour later, and hauls himself up from the table, ‘I think that’s probably enough for us. I need to get this tiny dancer to bed.’ He glances at Charlie briefly before looking around at all the dishes and glasses still out. ‘I can just . . .’

‘Never mind that,’ I wave him off sloppily, ‘we can deal with them in the morning.’

‘All right.’ Sven wobbles on the spot a little again, before Charlie guides him towards their bedroom.

After they’ve disappeared, Adam and I stagger up the stairs to bed too, and once again, I breathe in that soothing scent of home.

‘Well,’ Adam says, turning to me at the top, ‘I had a fun night.’

Blinking back the thoughts, I look up into those amazingly kind, if somewhat bloodshot, eyes; trace down those solid shoulders I know so intimately under his black fleece. If I leaned in two inches I’d be able to kiss him.

‘Me too,’ I swallow.

A pause; his mouth parts.

‘Well, goodnight, Emily,’ he says eventually, and with a final glance, he heads into his room.

‘Goodnight,’ I whisper, still standing in the hallway.

My lips are aching for him, the rest of my body too and I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or not, but I want to be with him so badly right now, it takes all my effort to not follow him.

A part of me can’t help wondering, yet again, if something happened between Emily and Adam the first time.

Could she have fallen for him too?

A beat.

Could I be with him again if she did? Even if Emily isn’t actually here anymore, I still want to honour what she would have wanted, and who – if it’s going to stick in time forever. So what if that someone was Adam?

But then I think about Simon, the way he looked at me – the fact that we were actually engaged once, and he openly wanted to be with me forever, something I’m really not sure Adam can give.

Not after what Charlie told me about him leaving Claire like he did.

So, I know that I’d only be getting with Adam for me.

I go through to my dark room eventually, flop down on the bed to see if it helps, but it only feels worse somehow.

I stare at the wall and try to imagine what Adam’s thinking right now, what he’s feeling.

My whole body is firing with a mix of longing, frustration and drunkenness, and I wonder how I’m ever going to be able to sleep, knowing where I am and just how close he is.

Although we live right across the hall from each other, there’s still something separate about it.

But in this place, our doors are wide open.

Beckoning to each other.

Eventually, as with everything, my body takes over, and my eyes finally shut.

Sleep comes.