Page 43 of On Circus Lane

I watch them go and then turn sadly to Tom. “So, you forgot too? It’s sad, isn’t it?”

He winks at me. “Nah, I never booked it.”

“What?”

He shrugs. “Sal was on one of her cultural overlord trips. I don’t obey her at the best of times, and I’ve already been in here anyway.”

“You have? Oh, is it lovely?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Just stones and grass, really.” He brightens. “Oh, and a dog cemetery.” I stare at him, and he holds out his hand. “I bet I can find more interesting things for you to seeoutsidethe castle buildings than inside.”

“What?”

He nods. “Yep. And within the castle boundaries too.” His eyes twinkle. “Are you prepared to bet?”

“What am I betting?” I brighten. “Something sexual?”

He looks at me, running his tongue over his full lower lip, and a wave of heat runs through me. Then he takes a deep breath. “No, if I win, you have to be my partner in games night tonight.”

I stare at him. “Why on earth is that important?”

“Are youkidding? Steven wins every time, but now I’ve got a ringer.” He nods, looking satisfied.

“And if I win the bet and you end up boring me to death, what doIget?”

He winks. “A kiss.”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“That’s up to you. Well?”

I can’t help but smile at him. “Okay, you’re on.” I can’t help thinking I’m prepared to be bored to death if it means a kiss, but I won’t do that. A bet is something honourable. “Entertain me, then.”

“Thank you, Robbie Williams. Okay, first on our itinerary is these two geezers here.”

“Where?”

He points at the two statues flanking the entrance to the castle.

“Who are they?” I peer at them, pushing my glasses up. “Wow. They’re amazing.” I’d missed them while I was focusing on the huge castle. “Well, they must be important in Scotland’s history to be set here, and they’re obviously guardians, so I’m guessing they’re Robert the Bruce and William Wallace.”

His eyes sparkle with approval. “Well done. Which one is which, though?”

My interest sharpens. “You mean there’s a clue to their identities?” He nods, and I examine the statues intently. The two bronze statues in medieval dress stare implacably back at me. Then I exclaim in triumph. “Thatone is Robert the Bruce.”

He grins. “How do you know?”

“He’s wearing a crown. They were both leaders, but only Robert the Bruce was a king.”

“Clever old you.”

I’ve heard that said a few times in a derogatory fashion, but Tom looks almost proud of me.

“How did you know this?” I ask. “Did you read a guidebook?”

“Someone has to,” he says mournfully, chuckling as I go to shove him. He takes my hand and tucks it through his arm. “So, how am I doing? Interested yet?”

I seesaw my other hand. “Meh, it’s okay so far.”

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