by Judy Jarvie
“No Andy?” Ailsa asked.
“We argued. I packed his case. I was so mad I threw it down the stairs on him.”
“You’ll kiss and make up.”
Lisa sighed, “No chance, it escalated. After last night’s row I threw something else and it hit its mark. Put it this way he was walking with a limp on his way out. And his prized motorbike replica ornament thingie needs more than superglue. It was a collector’s piece too.”
Ailsa bit her lip and sipped her drink. “Ouch. That’s drastic.”
“You’re showing me the way though,” Lisa remarked. “This New Year thing. Will you help me work on a list for me?”
“Woah there! You and Andy are different.” Ailsa put her hands up in objection.
“You’re getting what you want.” Lisa pleaded. “That’s where I’m going wrong. I want more than a long term live in boyfriend who takes me for granted. And now I plan to get it, by copying you.” Lisa waggled her dark brows.
Ailsa blinked. Sipped her coffee then shook her head.
Lisa whispered, “I want to get married. And a baby. I want a flat of my own. He can take it or leave it. I mean it this time. Andy’s used his chances. If he can’t deliver it’s time to move on.”
“But it was you who inspired me in the first place,” said Ailsa. “You and Andy being happy. Now you’re breaking up; that’s serious.”
Lisa never seemed the forever and babies type. She’d been the party hard girl who always pulled the exams out of the bag. Now she wanted family over coupledom?
“Doesn’t Andy want what you do?”
“He says I’m freaking him out. But I am serious. My sister’s just found out after waiting, getting the director level career, now she can’t have kids. I don’t want to put it off,” she replied. “It’s time to show Andy he has to commit. Or I find someone who will. I’ve been buying bridal and baby mags and hiding them.”
Ailsa clasped her hand over her friend’s. “Who’d have thought it? Me playing floozie. You a big fat floating meringue wannabe.”
A cheeky grin that caused her chin to dimple appeared on Lisa’s face. “Shame to waste new gear. Fancy a night out? That list says dancing 'til dawn.”
Ailsa could squeeze in a night out, though she’d agreed to meet Nick’s sister at her restaurant tonight. “If we can go out say around nine-ish?” She nodded, smiled, nodded harder.
“One more question,” said Lisa. “Was Nick really so good you can’t stop grinning?”
Ailsa smiled. “Maybe. C’mon, there’s two hours left until the shops shut. My credit card needs exercise. And, as you keep telling me, my conscience has lost its inhibitions.”
***
“Hi, not too early, am I?”
Ailsa put forward her best smile and the tissue wrapped bottle of Chablis she’d brought when she arrived at ‘The Witches Nest’; Sally Palmer’s stylish Old Town bistro and Johnny Deans’ latest joint venture.
Sally smiled and welcomed her inside, sweeping Ailsa’s coat away just as a cavalcade of wonderful cooking smells greeted her and led her onwards.
“This place is gorgeous. And it makes me so hungry.”
“I love that dress. Suits you so well.” Sally smiled, she was quite a looker herself. Brown hair like Nick. Tall, slim, gorgeous eyes.
Ailsa hadn’t been able to resist donning the scarlet dress she’d bought earlier. She felt fabulous in it, even the assistant said it was perfect.
“Good to meet you properly,” said Sally taking her arm. “I’m so glad Nick’s met somebody nice. He’s a hard man to please. Some would say perfectionist. He said he’d be here shortly.”
Sally gave Ailsa what she could have sworn was a knowing wink when she said ‘perfectionist’. She chose to ignore it.
“From the look of this place, perfectionist tendencies run in the family.”
‘The Witches Nest’ name may conjure up a rustic, creaky old pile but the décor and furnishings were modern with style and appeal aplenty. The artwork was tasteful and high end, the furniture modern and sleek.
The restaurant was open for business; several couples and one party were eating downstairs. Sally led Ailsa to an upper floor; a quieter area for their exclusive use. Her assistant chef was at the helm this evening while Sally took time out. And while they chatted easily, Ailsa soon discovered Sally Palmer was truly lovely. In contrast to her brother who arrived more brooding than she’d ever seen him before in his life.
“Nick’s been telling me a lot about you,” Sally had begun with unhappy timing because they’d looked up to see Nick. His familiar dark head emerged in the stairway doorframe, scowling openly. He stared at her looking utterly riled. Johnny followed him; smiling and sharply in contrast to Nick who was most seriously displeased.
And he was not caring much who knew it. The mood matched his clothes: black.
“Hi Nick,” said Sally. “We were wondering where you were.”
“Seeing a friend,” he said simply and the women shrugged. “A friend with interesting things to tell me. Andy as it happens.”
“The food smells good,” Johnny said to lift the atmosphere.
Ailsa felt Nick’s gaze stay on her, taking in the clothes. Then he sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling. Yes it was a drastic change of image; it seemed to be displeasing him.
“I see you’ve been busy. I heard about it too.”
Earth to Ailsa: What’s up with Mr Angry?
She shrugged. “Just a few new outfits.” She made jovial polite conversation. His one word answers did not go unnoticed by his sister either.
“Had a pressing day? You seem blue?” she said softly to him. The last she’d seen him he’d been kissing her neck and nibbling her ear on his way out of the door. Was this the hidden flaw in his character; bi-polar mood swings that threatened everybody’s stability?
“No more than usual,” Nick said. They placed their orders and Johnny poured drinks. The atmosphere was strained because of Nick’s mystery black mood.
Ailsa caught herself catching wistful looks across the table. He was so gorgeous it was hard not to marvel. So irritated it was difficult to ignore it and be normal.
“So,” said Nick to his sister. “Had any thoughts about giving this place up and coming back to London with me?”
“Nick,” said Sally, “This isn’t the time; we have company. And anyway now that the project with Johnny’s underway I may have other ideas. Maybe I don’t want to trip right back to London with you. Anyway we’ll talk later. Right now we have guests.”
Since drawing Nick out of his deeply irked disposition wasn’t an option Ailsa threw herself eagerly into enjoying the food – seafood linguine – and conversation about how Sally and Johnny saw their joint venture developing.
Johnny, when fired up, was always the life and soul of any gathering and tonight was no exception. He seemed clearly taken with Sally, impressed by her business and in full throttle about their plans for the project.
“Think a dramatic night of tales of the mysteries and macabre events that took place along this stretch of street. One of the most famous streets in Europe; a street dripping with history and atmosphere. It’s rumoured to be haunted so we’ll use that to steer research.”
Sally nodded enthusiastically too. Nick seemed to stare at his cutlery.
“I’m thinking re-enactments by drama students, a ‘who dunnit’ evening. A guest spiritualist speaker. The spiritualist will relay the vibes from the building, table tilting, a séance? Add a murder tale against the backdrop of a traditional old style Scots supper with musicians in the bistro to round off. I envisage a sell out.”
Sally watched Johnny’s enthusiasm with open admiration. Ailsa clocked it.
Ailsa had known Johnny a long time; she’d rarely seen him this switched in. Ailsa could only admire Sally too now that she got a chance to get to know her. They already laughed at the same jokes, admired the same books and shops.
She looked up then to see Nick glaring at
his plate and jab at his seared salmon like he was out for revenge.
“Never count your chickens. Not until the cheques are in the post,” said Nick and the atmosphere took a nose dive.
“Everything okay for everyone?” Sally checked.
“Wonderful,” they said in unison. Nick looked leagues from impressed.
Sally and Nick were similar in many ways. The dark glossy hair, intense eyes, showstopper smiles. She was young, easy going, hard working, vibrant. Ailsa wondered why she needed Nick’s help so much in getting business back on track? She seemed capable enough.
Was her overly protective brother getting it all ever so slightly wrong here? Was he a control freak of the highest order?
“Why don’t you drop in for lunch sometime,” enthused Sally. “For quality girl time.”
Ailsa grinned, “That’d be great.”
“Very cosy,” Nick replied darkly. “I’m sure Ailsa’s schedule is busy enough without obligations. She has a knack for keeping herself busy I’ve heard. Even if it’s in inappropriate diversions.”
She took a chance later between courses when Sally and Johnny left the table for Johnny to visit the kitchens, to make her feelings known.
“If you want me gone just say. You’re sending a good evening down the pan.”
He whispered harshly, “Just when I think I know you I realise I don’t know you at all.” He glared across the table. “I hear that you’re out tonight man-hunting. That you’ve come up with some list. Nice to make me feel like I’ve been ticked and dealt with.”
Ailsa sighed, “Is that what this is about? Excuse me for having a life. I’m meeting Lisa who happens to be blue and wants a shoulder to cry on. And who made you my personal life spy?” She reached out to touch his arm but he pulled away sharply.
“You come here all dressed up, acting like last night never happened.” There was a fire in his eyes. A fire that made her breath catch. Sexy and dangerous. The list was just a bit of fun. Something she’d done on a whim. She hadn’t imagined he’d find out about it; let alone care. “The list was the icing insult that topped the cake.”
“How did you know about it?”
“My network of spies. Andy. He heard Lisa talking about it when he popped by to pick up stuff.”
Had she made him feel so small he’d come here tonight in five shades of fury because of her?
“Nick we’ll talk later,” Ailsa said sensing the others were returning and tuning into their conversation.
Nick simply glared back. “Oh what’s the use…” he pushed his napkin roughly away and swore under his breath. “Do I have to spell it out here? You made me feel used. I’ll get a cab and leave you to your night of pleasure,” Nick announced.
She’d barely taken a sip of her coffee. It lay temptingly in front of her and Sally’s face showed her brother trampled her feelings by storming out.
Ailsa just sat and watched him leave.
She felt like when she’d been nineteen. Only worse because now, right now this minute, she’d only just realised, he meant more to her than he ever had before. Even though he was being a prize idiot.
He was only behaving that way because he’d got crossed wires and she’d hurt him. And for that she’d never felt more wretched in her life.
***
Ailsa Murray was the living limit. Nick walked from the top of the Royal
Mile to midpoint with heat burning a hole in his chest. She had to be out to rile him, surely? And he was falling for her as fast as it came.
He might have resisted, but her transformation was knock-out. And their night together was the high-point of his life.
And now he’d gone and played the idiot. Embarrassed himself in front of Ailsa, Sally and Johnny. He’d wanted her to see she’d hurt him but instead he’d only acted the brute, the sullen idiot. He’d needed to escape her potent perfume zone that taunted him that now their night together was a ‘been there, done that’ for Ailsa.
Nick worked some of his fury out in the walk to ‘The Baillie’ where he’d agreed to meet Andy. A bottle of beer greeted his arrival on the bar.
“What’s with the scowl?” Andy asked.
“What you told me about earlier. I want full details.”
Andy looked smug. “I am a man of hidden talents and I know all about this list. Apparently she’d deadly serious in its pursuit.” He produced a piece of paper.
Nick scoffed, then sipped his drink but it tasted bitter.
He scanned the list in his hand, “You stole it? How did you get it?” Nick swigged his beer again needing Dutch courage to face reading it.
“Probably best if you don’t know how. It involved trickery. Use of my spare key and a knowledge of where Ailsa keeps secret stuff. What I don’t know about Lisa and Ailsa you could write on a gnat’s knee-cap.”
“As you said, best not to know about that.”
The list before Nick necessitated a double gulp. It needed re-reading. And
reading again slowly. One thing was for certain; he wasn’t letting this go without
trying to make her see sense first.
Chapter Eight
The Sportsman’s Bar was a sea of bodies and heads and the DJ’s steady thrum euphoric tunes meant the dance floor was already crowded.
Ailsa sipped her spritzer and recrossed her legs on her barstool to endeavour to find a comfortable position, but she knew it was no good. She shouldn’t be here; all she could think of was Nick storming off and how she’d caused that.
There was only one man she really was interested in. And she wouldn’t find him by scouring Edinburgh’s nightspots. She’d hurt Nick more than she wanted to think about through sheer carelessness and self indulgence.
Despite his surly mood earlier, Nick Palmer still had the power to fire the blood in her veins with an electrostatic charge that made adrenaline soar. But her conscience squirmed at the fact that he’d found out about her list and her night out. He’d come to all the wrong conclusions. Hadn’t he realised that last night really had been a journey in sexual exploration on a scale she’d never had before?
It wasn’t that she was dismissing it. More that she was trying to regain equilibrium and recover. It would be too easy to fall for Nick and find herself out of her depth.
Lisa danced on the edge of the dance floor, making blatant eye contact with every good looking man she could spot. It deepened Ailsa’s uneasiness. She rose and went to Lisa there to tell her she’d had enough.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she began. “I’m not in the mood.”
“That’s no way to get moving on that list is it?” Lisa said then gyrated and grabbed Ailsa to join her. It was clear Lisa wasn’t listening as her hips wiggled and she did a sweeping combo of burlesque moves and jazz hands. “Things don’t come to you; you have to seize the moment. Anyway, we’ve just got here. Check him out over there, nice biceps.”
What was the point in trying to distract Lisa? She’d been looking forward to a night free of Andy. Some revenge possibly and certainly some hair down time.
A tall, dark haired man joined her on the dance floor and beckoned Lisa to him. Ailsa realised this could be a long night and walked away back to her seat.
Then she clocked the bar’s entrance and her heart soared; her conscience jolted. Gorgeous, tall, fit, hot and handsome. Nick Palmer in the flesh.
The track stopped and Ailsa beckoned Lisa over. She left reluctantly.
“There’s Nick. Over there, and he’s with Andy,” Ailsa warned her.
“Come on. We don’t need them to have a good time,” Lisa told her. Lisa tossed her hair and went back to the dancing; clearly glad of an opportunity to vex her ex.
Only Ailsa had danced enough. She needed Nick’s approval more than kicks with alcohol and strobe lights. He mattered more than dancing with strangers or the thrill of a fresh chase. Every part of her became tracking radar to Nick’s presence when he was in the same room.
Nick didn’t meet her gaz
e; he acted like he didn’t see her (had he?) He coolly walked to the bar then turned his back towards them. But even the back of his head looked great to Ailsa right now. Hope swelled inside her. Please let me put things right again. He was here and that was enough.
Ailsa watched Lisa dance with the man who’d approached her earlier. He was now doing John Travolta meets M.C. Hammer and it wasn’t pretty. She watched Lisa’s grinding dips get lower as they bumped behinds.
She caught her friend's eye and tried to warn off by shaking her head but Lisa simply pointed urgently over her shoulder. Then she made sexy eyes as if indicating she’d seen someone nice.
Ailsa got closer to find out what she was saying, “By the cigarette machine. Blue shirt, has an amazing body and he can’t keep his eyes off you." The dance floor was busy and Ailsa found herself tugged harder into the melee. Lisa dragged her by the hand and Ailsa started to dance along but half her attention was still on Nick.
Ailsa realised that the man by the cigarette machine Lisa had motioned to wasn’t a stranger and somebody she already knew.
“That’s Greg. Kirsty’s old ex.”
And yes he was handsome and well built. He ran his own Climbing Centre in Edinburgh, so he should get a regular great workout. Greg waved in greeting and Ailsa decided she’d had her fill of dancing. She went and gave him a friendly hug.
It had been way too long since she’d seen her sister’s ex. Greg had been as bereft by losing Kirsty as her family were. And while she now knew he dated again he’d never found anybody long term; Ailsa figured he’d hold a torch for her sister for a time to come. But he was a nice, decent guy who deserved to find someone special.
When Greg kissed her cheek, Ailsa saw Nick watch her with narrowed eyes. Then he frowned, talked to Andy through tight lips and drank his bottled beer. She’d hankered for Nick’s attention. Now she’d nailed it.
“It’s so great to see you,” said Greg. “I’ve meant to get in touch. I still have things of Kirsty’s at my flat. It’s been years so that probably seems bad but I’ve just moved and been clearing stuff. It’s only small things, maybe you’d like them?”