Page 26 of On Circus Lane

“This is a wynd,” he says, his voice echoing in the narrow space. “Little alleys that run between the buildings.”

We come through, and I smile in surprise to find a courtyard surrounded by the tall buildings. There’s a café with tables and chairs set out with jaunty-coloured umbrellas. The tables are empty now, and the umbrellas are furled tightly, but it’s a charming picture, and I fumble for the camera around my neck to take a picture.

“Do you like it?” he asks almost anxiously.

I grin at him, forgetting to be self-conscious. “It’s beautiful. I like taking photos,” I say. I wonder briefly if there’s something in the Scottish air that turns shy people sociable. “I don’t go to many places, so when I do, I take lots of nice photos for my Instagram page.”

“You’ll have to show me.”

I nod, surprised that I like the idea of sharing with him.

He grins widely. “There are loads of surprises in this city,” he says, tucking his hand under my arm absently. “When I worked here, I loved to explore. You find these courtyards, and it’s almost like seeing a hidden world.”

“Oh my god, yes,” I say, startled to find my mind running like his. “I remember seeing a patch of soil when I was little, and my dad let me use his microscope to look at it. I found an entire insect colony there with all the little insects leading their busy lives undetected.”

“We did the same, although my brother Arlo used a plastic magnifying glass and set fire to the grass. He was like the human torch in the insect world until my dad chucked his magnifying glass in the bin.”

I laugh and he shoots a glance back at the alleyway. His expression almost looks disappointed. “We’d better go back to the others.”

I feel a wave of similar disappointment but make myself nod. “Yeah, we don’t want to lose them.”

“Well, not all of them,” he says darkly.

“What did Steven do now?” I blurt.

Tom licks his lips, looking towards the street, and my chest tightens. I’d been thinking he was my friend, so I spoke to him the same way I would Ivy.

“God, that was sorudeof me,” I say quickly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“Jack’s important to all of us, so we did try to get on with Steven for a long time,” he says slowly. “But Steven’s dismissive and rude, and so the situation has become a bit more difficult.”

“And Jack was okay with him being rude?” I ask, surprised. Jack obviously values his friendships with the group.

“Steven was never rude in front of him. Not at first. He’s more open about being catty lately. Jack’s been distracted, so he hasn’t noticed. But…” He hesitates. “To be honest, the cattiness isn’t the worst of it.”

I scan his features, noting the creases by the mouth that’s so quick to smile. I can’t tell if he wants to tell me more—perhaps get something off his chest—or if he’s wandered too deep into this conversation and he’s looking for a way out.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to discuss it,” I say. “Ivy and I have several topics we’ve assigned mutual-destruction agreements never to talk about with others.”

“This isn’t exactly a secret, because we all know.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and lowers his voice. “Steven was unfaithful.”

“ToJack?” I say in astonishment.

“A complete surprise, right? Yes. To Jack. He’s the best bloke around. He’s kind and lovely and didn’t deserve to have Steven shag a friend of theirs. A friend who was part of a couple they hung around with.”

“Oh dear. So, what happened?”

“Jack found out about it. The other couple split up. Then Steven managed to talk his way back into Jack's good graces, and here we are.” He spreads his hands. “I hate that for Jack. I hate all unfaithfulness. My parents have been together for thirty years, and neither has ever looked at anyone else.”

“That’s amazing.”

“I know. My dad used to tell us that relationships can and do end, but if you’re contemplating being unfaithful and the other person doesn’t know, then your relationship is already at an end. He told us it’s cruel and disrespectful not be honest with your partner.”

“I wish he’d known my mum.” I bite my lip, flabbergasted at what I’ve just said.

He scans my face, his expression changing from surprise to what looks like concern. He seems adept at picking up cues, so he just nods and doesn’t ask questions.

After a moment, he says, “I could understand if Steven had made a mistake and apologized. If Jack is prepared to forgive, then it’s certainly none of my business.”

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