Page 33 of The Love of Our Lives
‘And drop in again soon,’ Mum says. ‘We get lots of lovely stock in regularly.’
‘All right,’ I say and my chest fills with warmth at the prospect of seeing her again, and without my heart – and everything itcomes with – hanging over us too. As I open the door with a little tinkle from the bell, I look at her and say, ‘See you soon.’
Mum.
Just like I said, I head off afterwards, not quite knowing where the night will take me. I feel this hum of happiness in my chest from seeing Mum; from simply engaging with her in that easy, normal way. For as long as I can remember, the dynamic between us has always been set in stone – she tells me what to do (or what not to do, rather) and I just go along with it for everyone’s sake. There’s so little play, so little fun, so little of us actuallyenjoyingeach other as equals, I’m realising now.
It felt good to speak to her on fresh terms.
I think about Mum’s sad look as I go though, wondering what that was all about. She always kept such a front around me; always scarily organised and tough, unless we spoke about Cat, that is. I’m tempted to go and see her again soon to find out.
I walk all the way back to the flat, enjoying the cool evening air. The lights are coming up around the dusky city like fireflies, and I find myself thinking about Adam again, wondering if he might be around when I get back, if I might get to see him this evening. Just daydreaming about him gives me butterflies but I know it’s a dangerous thing to feel. Something that can only end in upset. But as I arrive at the building, I see Adam already standing in front of it, smiling as I approach. He’s in jeans, a white t-shirt and black puffer jacket. My stomach flips.
‘I was just about to message you,’ he says, and a ripple of warmth goes through me.
‘I’m heading out to meet Charlie and Sven for drinks tonight,’ he adds. ‘You game?’
I think again of Mum in the shop; how different things felt with her, in a good way. And that perhaps in the strangest of twists, I’ve been given a second chance here.
Before I can overthink it, I say, ‘I’m game.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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.
