‘It’s good to have you home, Freya.’
It was good to be here, Freya thought as she pushed open the door.
The drapes had been closed by Mrs Hunt after the last tenants, and Freya went around opening them up and letting in the late-afternoon sun. Then she turned on the hot water and caught up on her mail while she waited for it to warm.
And she did all she could not to think too much of Richard and what had happened last night.
She wouldn’t be telling Alison. At least she didn’t know whether or not to tell her.
Alison and Callum had been childhood sweethearts. And Freya wasn’t sure her friend would understand.
Freya herself didn’t understand.
She liked it that there was no risk of getting overly involved with Richard.
The break-up with Malcolm had been tricky. He’d kept messaging and coming round, turning up wherever she went, wanting to talk, to see if they could give it another go.
Well, she wouldn’t be having that problem with Richard!
It was rather freeing.
* * *
It was nice to dress up and go out. She hadn’t brought much with her, but she had a nice copper-coloured dress, and with heels it was dressy enough. Her hair was still rather wild from going to bed with it damp last night, so Freya wore it up and then added a dash of lipstick.
She glanced at her phone as she put the lipstick back in her bag, and then decided she’d do well to leave the phone at home, to prevent herself from replying to Richard.
She had no idea what she would say anyway.
Freya headed to the Tavern bar, and she felt herself tense a little as she walked inside. It was Friday night in Cromayr Bay, and that meant there was a fair chance Malcolm would be there. But thankfully there was no sign of him, and a moment or two later Alison arrived.
The Tavern really was gorgeous—a boutique hotel just off the main street, it was set high on a hill and offered a stunning version of Freya’s favourite view of the Firth.
They climbed the steps to the restaurant and were shown to their seats by a waitress. Then Gordon, the owner, came over.
‘Are you two here for a last trip down memory lane?’
‘Something like that.’ Freya smiled.
‘I remember you coming here when you passed your midwifery exams—och, and for your eighteenth too...’
‘I’m going to miss the old place.’ Alison sighed.
‘Well, hopefully you’ll love the new one just as much,’ Gordon said, and then he talked them through the menu.
They made their choices—which was tough, because there was lobster brought in from the pots just that afternoon, and there was Dornoch lamb, as well as Freya’s favourite, game pie. But she’d had that the last time she was here...
‘I’m going to have the lamb, please,’ Freya said.
‘And I’ll have the spelt and mushroom risotto,’ Alison said.
Freya had wine, and Alison a mocktail, and they chatted about Freya’s move to London.
‘So, have you made any friends there yet?’ Alison asked.
‘Not really,’ Freya admitted. ‘They’re very cliquey...’ she started. Only that wasn’t quite right. They were all very nice. ‘I don’t know what it is. I try, I just don’t seem to fit in. Richard says I’m too subtle.’
‘Richard?’
‘A friend,’ Freya said.
‘So you have made one.’
‘A temporary one.’ Freya said. ‘He’s being interviewed for a plum new job in a private hospital.’
‘In London?’ Alison checked.
Freya nodded. ‘And he’ll get it—he’s brilliant.’
‘Well, if it’s in London that doesn’t have to stop you from being friends. So you do have one.’
‘I guess...’
Alison smirked, because she knew Freya well, and from the little flush on her cheeks it was clear to her he was more than just a friend.
‘It’s just a temporary thing,’ said Freya.
‘Why?’
‘Because temporary is all he does.’
‘But that’s not like you.’ Alison frowned.
‘Well, maybe it is. Look, we’ve been out a couple of times, and both of us know that it won’t be going any further, and that actually suits me just fine.’
‘Why?’ Alison asked again.
‘It just does,’ Freya said, and gave an uncomfortable shrug.
She wasn’t ready to tell Alison she was thinking of coming home for good once her contract was up, but thankfully then their meals arrived.
The lamb was delectable and the conversation became easier. Alison chatted about her and Callum’s tenth wedding anniversary, which was soon coming up.
‘Can you believe it?’
‘Not really.’ Freya laughed. ‘It feels like just a couple of years ago that I was your bridesmaid.’
‘Are you coming home for your thirtieth?’ Alison asked.