Because of You

Chapter 33

Skye drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She had barely gone past the rocks on the side of the road that marked the boundary to Eastercraig, and already her nerves were beginning to fail her.

It was raining again. A couple of drops splatted on the windscreen, then it was as though someone had tipped an enormous bucket on top of the car, then filled it up and done it again.

Was this a sign?

‘No, do not go down that route,’ said Skye aloud. ‘ You are responsible for all your choices, Skye. Don’t go looking to the universe for advice.’

It wasn’t a sign. It wasn’t even a coincidence. If she had bothered to check the weather forecast, she would have known it was coming.

No, this was not an omen. Nothing was telling her to go back. It wasn’t great, driving a car for three hours in these conditions, but she could do it. She had committed herself to this drive, and what lay at the end of it. No flaking.

Skye slowed into a tight bend, then slammed her foot on the brake as she came out of it. In front of her was a car, barely tucked in by the side of the road, its hazards flashing. She pulled up behind and, coat above her head, ran out into the rain to see if she could help.

Water immediately flooded her trainers, raindrops bouncing off the ground like rubber balls. Before she had got halfway she realized she knew who the car belonged to. A sinking feeling in her stomach started to spin the moral compass which had directed her to lend a hand. Still, no flaking.

‘Bear? Bear!’ She banged on the window, which was completely steamed up.

Bear wound down the window, frowned, and pointed to the phone he was holding up to his ear. He tilted his head to the other side, and Skye ran to the passenger door and hopped in.

‘You can’t get here any sooner?’ he asked into the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a pause while the other person confirmed what was clearly bad news. ‘In that case, I’ll call back in a bit. I need to think what to do.’

He hung up, and looked at Skye. ‘Hey,’ he said, his face fixed.

Skye tried not to take his expression personally. He was stuck here, and the first person to turn up was her. She held up a cautious hand of friendship. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Broken down? Sorry — stating the obvious is as much good as a chocolate teapot.’

Bear raised his eyes to the roof of his car. ‘I was trying to get to Edinburgh,’ he said.

Skye swivelled in her seat. ‘ I’m going to Edinburgh,’ she said.

It was a chance to make things right. This was a sign. Oh — no, she was done with all that, remember? But this one was ideal! It would be such a missed opportunity. Maybe, just maybe, you could pick and choose when you wanted signage to apply.

‘You are?’

Skye nodded. ‘If you like, I could drive you. We can push the car off the road a bit so it’s not a danger, and I can let Hamish know it’s here. Both sides of the road are part of the estate.’

‘Really? You want to be in a car together. You don’t think it might be a tad awkward?’ His teeth were slightly gritted.

Skye drew her chin back. ‘I guess yes, it could be awkward, but aside from it being a practical solution to your problem, there’s an environmental argument for sharing a car, isn’t there? And we can put the radio on the whole way. There’s no pressure to utter a word. Although I’d prefer it if you didn’t do any primal screaming, because I don’t need the unexpected scares.’

Bear contemplated this, without smiling. ‘I think I can live with that. Any other conditions?’

Skye shook her head. ‘None.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate it. And I’ll pay you for petrol.’

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘Well, I’d like to.’

Skye sighed. ‘We’ll sort it out later. For now, shall we get this thing further off the road?’

‘Fine, I’ll push,’ said Bear. He slammed the door behind him and stalked out into the rain, as she scabbled into the driver’s seat and wondered if this was a good idea.

On the one, pessimistic hand, she was about to be stuck in the car with Bear Sinclair, who hated her guts so much he would like to feed them to the crows. His acceptance of the offer of a lift-share equalled three hours of the silent treatment, which the radio would struggle to mask.

On the other hand, which had its fingers tightly crossed, there was the chance to make things right between them.

She wound the window down, and stuck her head out. ‘Are you ready?’

Bear was nearly hidden behind sheets of rain. ‘Take off the handbrake, and I’ll push on three. One, two, three.’

Skye hauled the steering wheel towards the verge, as if it was a juggernaut, rather than a tiny, old manual hatchback. The car juddered over the grass, the front wheel coming to rest in a hole — but it was well and truly off-road now. Skye jerked the gearstick back into neutral, and whacked the handbrake back on.

‘I’ve got a pen in my handbag. Shall I leave a note?’ Skye said, as Bear got back in next to her.

Bear nodded. He was soaked through, his light brown trousers now two shades darker thanks to the rain.

Broken down. Will collect later. Landowner informed.

Skye scribbled it all down on a page in her diary, tore it out, and placed the paper on the dashboard.

* * *

The snaking roads out of the Highlands could have been mistaken for rivers. Every so often they would go through a particularly deep patch of water. Skye had never aquaplaned before, there was a strong chance today was going to be the day.

She and Bear kept up an impressive silence for the first few miles. After about twenty minutes had passed though, Skye was beginning to feel discomfited by it. Her ears itched to hear something other than her own thoughts. She had got into a car with someone who didn’t especially like her, to go and see her parents. Heck, she might as well go and see Will, make a day of it.

‘Do you want the radio on?’

Skye asked the question as brightly as possible, giving a forced smile to add extra cheer to her voice.

‘Sure,’ Bear replied.

He reached down and turned it on and static fuzz erupted forth. He wound down the volume, pressing the buttons only to find crackly, interrupted stations.

‘It’s either the weather or the landscape,’ he said. ‘Signal’s totally fouled up either way.’

Skye switched it off. ‘Fine. Silence it is.’

Out of the corner of her eye, she sensed Bear’s lip twitching. She snuck a glance at him, her eyes darting to his mouth. ‘Are you smiling?’

Bear looked at her. ‘No.’

She flicked him a look, before placing her eyes firmly back on the road in front.

‘Then what’s so funny?’

‘You’re regretting your decision to offer me a lift.’

‘Psssh. I was doing what anyone else would do. So, what takes you back to Edinburgh?’

‘The rain,’ said Bear. ‘A meeting I had at was cancelled, so I’m heading back to the city.’

‘The one with the roofers? I heard about that,’ Skye nodded. ‘I was supposed to cover Chloe at the surgery this morning because she was going to be at it too. But she called first thing and told me not to worry cos she could work after all.

‘Ah,’ said Bear. ‘Anyway, I thought I would go down to Edinburgh, drop into the office to do some paperwork.’

‘Will your mum be there?’

Bear frowned. ‘I imagine so.’

‘You know you said you and your mum didn’t get on at work from time to time? Does that ever make for an uncomfortable few hours at the table, when you have your Sunday lunches?’ Skye asked.

‘Yeah. There’ll be a joint in the oven, neeps and tatties regardless of the season, which ought to be heaven. But the conversation is salted with unsubtle comments about how I ought to be powering on up through the company, and how she’s given me a chance. It can be excruciating.’

Skye couldn’t help herself. ‘You know that theory about men going for women like their mothers? Do you reckon that’s why you ended up with Georgia? You needed someone to nitpick, and push you about your lack of ambition? Something Oedipal embedded in your psyche.’

Bear didn’t respond immediately, and Skye began to feel her face growing hot. She might win an award for insensitivity with that one. She was about to apologize when Bear let out a laugh. Not an enormous one — but it was a laugh.

‘Yeah? Or perhaps I thought I had a lack of ambition,’ said Bear. ‘And I needed to find someone to push me.’

‘Yeah, but there’s a difference between encouraging someone to be the best person they can be, and shoving them into a box they don’t want to be in.’

‘Wise words.’

Skye smiled. ‘Sometimes I manage to pull some out of the bag.’

Bear took a deep breath. ‘Today’s trip is also to visit the bank manager. I got a last-minute appointment, and I’m going to apply for a loan for my project. The full shebang. If they say yes, I’ll have enough. I’ll be one step closer to branching out.’

‘Wow.’ she gasped. ‘If you’ve got all the cash, that really is the whole shebang.’

As far as Skye could tell, architecture suited Bear down to the ground. She didn’t think she had seen anyone in their element as much as Bear wandering around the old blackhouse, establishing how it had been put together. His project had to be something to do with restoration work.

‘You want to work on historic properties, right? You know more about old buildings than anyone I know.’

Bear laughed. ‘How many people have you met who know anything about old buildings, other than what they’ve read in the guidebooks?’

‘OK,’ Skye admitted. ‘It’s not like it was a wide field. But still . . . You know all about old building techniques, and I think you’ve found the work at Auchintraid fascinating, even when it was difficult. You knew loads about the architectural style of Glenalmond too. I never managed to take you on a proper tour of the place. I wish I’d had the time — you’d have loved it. God, I’m going to miss you, Bear.’

As the words tumbled out of her mouth, she wished he would jump in and tell her he forgave her, and wanted her after all. Now would be the time, with the eleventh-hour vibes this journey had.

‘Miss me? We’re not going to see each other again?’ asked Bear.

It wasn’t the outpouring of emotion she had hoped for, but Skye thought she heard some disappointment in his voice as he said it. She tried to tally it with the tone of detachment that Bear had forced through a clenched jaw for much of the journey so far.

‘I could understand why you wouldn’t want to,’ she said going for explanation. ‘You must feel like I’ve led you up the garden path, around the houses — which, by the way are cruck-framed ones — and on a merry dance.’

‘It’s fine. You’ve got some stuff to sort out,’ said Bear. He was cool once more. Skye felt a punch that they were so close, and yet so far away. ‘Clearly.’

‘Exactly,’ said Skye. ‘Which is why I’m going to Edinburgh.’

For some reason, this managed to kill the conversation entirely. Given the radio was still not functioning, silence reigned supreme.

After a while, they finally joined a larger road, one which was less prone to puddles so deep they might as well have been lochs. They drove along, still not exchanging any words, until Skye spotted a petrol station, and pulled in, swinging the wheel round like a rally driver.

‘Wee and chocolate stop,’ she explained, opening the door and leaping out.

And, more importantly, a chance to have time out from the oppressive atmosphere inside the car.

‘I’ll get the chocolate, shall I? Do you need me to pay for some fuel, too?’ Bear got out and stretched his arms above his head. Skye looked away from the sliver of exposed taut stomach.

Skye shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I’ve got a nearly full tank.’

They were underneath the awning, but the rain was coming in sideways as they ran towards the glass door of the main building.

Nipping to the loo, Skye sat down in the cubicle and tapped her feet on the floor. She closed her eyes. Sometimes you had so much you wanted to say, except you didn’t know how to say it or seemed only capable of saying the wrong thing. She sighed. There was still a long way to go down to Edinburgh. She wished she had a delete button for some of the things she had already come out with.

She took a minute more than she needed to wash her hands, and to fluff her hair — the red roots were really showing now — before making her way back to the car.

Collapsing in her seat, she clicked the belt in, and put the key in the ignition. The windows were steamed up. She turned on the heat, and waited for the windscreen to clear. Bear, who had got back first, had bought a bag of chocolates and a collection of sweets, including the ones that came in tins with a dusting of icing sugar. She had forgotten about the snacks, given that she had not really needed them in the first place.

‘You’re sure you don’t need to top up? Who knows when we might get to the next station,’ he said, putting the tin under her nose.

‘Are you mansplaining petrol to me?’ she asked, more sharply than she intended.

‘No,’ said Bear levelly. ‘I want to pay my way.’

‘I was going to Edinburgh anyway, remember?’

Skye took a sweet and popped it in her mouth. Each interaction seemed to be more uncomfortable than the last, ending in an awkward silence. Everything Skye said was wrong.

‘So, go on. What are you going back to do?’ Bear asked, finally.

A question was an olive branch, of sorts, but Skye wasn’t sure she trusted herself to speak articulately yet.

‘You first,’ she said, sensing his gaze on her. ‘We never got to the bottom of it, did we.’

She wanted to be open with Bear, she did. But she wanted him to know he could be open with her too. Needed him to be.

‘You can trust me,’ she added, more quietly. ‘I won’t think it’s stupid, whatever it is. I’m not a Georgia.’

‘I know,’ said Bear.

‘And believe me, Hurricane Skye can top anything for shock value and sheer idiocy.’

Bear hesitated for a second, then spoke. ‘You were right, earlier. My project . . . I want to start my own business. Architecture, still, but restoring older buildings. Either taking them back to their original states, or to make them more modern, but still in keeping.’

‘The firm does that at the moment, though, doesn’t it? You’re doing that for the Dunbars.’

‘As a favour. Dad and Greg Dunbar know each other somehow, and they talked about it, and the firm agreed to take it on. But it’s not normally what they do, or where they do it. They’re primarily into creating more modern buildings. It was also why I was in Portobello the other week; the Georgian building that could be a potential project. I was never looking at it for the firm, it was for my new venture.’

Skye looked over to him quickly, a wide smile across her face. ‘Well, that’s fantastic. You’d be brilliant at it.’

From the pictures he had sent of derelict and uncared for buildings, she knew how skilled he was at seeing potential in the most unlikely places. She wondered if it was a knack he might transfer to her, if she could find it in herself to tell him everything she had held back on.

‘You think so?’ said Bear.

‘I know so. You’re clearly passionate about it, and you’ve got an enviable portfolio. And that Georgian place over at Portobello in mind as a leaping off point. Would you set up alone, or with a team?’

‘It would be just me to start off with. I’ve made enough contacts that I could get a team together for early projects. Eventually, though, I’d want there to be a few of us.’

She could hear the idea gaining momentum as he spoke about it.

‘Why haven’t you done this sooner? Or is that what you were saving up for?’

‘Nail on head,’ he said. ‘I’m hoping it won’t be too long before projects come in, but even though I’ll hopefully have a loan from the bank, I need a float to see me through. I’ll have notice to give, and it’s daft to think that much’ll get done over a Scottish winter. Plenty of building projects don’t get going until the spring. It’s only sensible to have a cushion.’

‘You said Georgia didn’t think you were ambitious enough, but this is hugely ambitious.’

‘Ambitious, yes, but in terms of salary I wouldn’t earn as much as I would in a bigger firm.’

‘You’d have enough, though, right? To pay the mortgage and bills?’

‘Aye,’ Bear said. ‘Enough to save each month, enjoy a meal out, and travel a bit. I’ll never be a millionaire, but it’s a decent salary, assuming it gets off the ground.’

‘She was an idiot,’ Skye said.

‘Thanks,’ said Bear. ‘So’s the guy who screwed you over.’

‘You think so?’

‘I know so,’ he said, quietly.

He put a hand on her arm, and Skye felt goosebumps prickling up all over her body in response.

‘Thanks.’ Skye warmed a little, as if a tiny fire had been lit inside her. ‘You know, I was sure I’d miss Will, that I’d spend my month in Eastercraig pining for him, weeping over my broken heart, but I barely gave him a second thought. Which, given he was cheating on me, is the best possible outcome.’

‘It’s good you feel that way. So, you had a whirlwind relationship that went bad. It’s not the end of the world.’ Bear sounded sanguine, as he removed his hand. ‘I don’t mean to belittle the experience, by the way. What I’m trying to say is that you’re allowed to move on. But . . . I thought he was the reason you didn’t want to come back the other night.’

Skye groaned inwardly. She had let Bear think it was Will who was holding her back.

‘He wasn’t the reason. Not really, though he was one of the latest in a line of terrible decisions I’ve made. I ought to have known by now that it’s best to pause before racing headlong into something. Fools rush in, after all.’

‘What other terrible decisions have you made?’ Bear asked. ‘Only if you’ve stolen this car, that’ll really impact your legal career.’

Skye gave a strangled laugh. If only he knew how close to home that comment was. ‘It’s mine, I promise.’

‘Then what?’

How to tell Bear. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. She did. If she was hoping for a last-minute reprieve for the two of them, this would scupper their chances. Blow them to smithereens. But if she was going to be honest about things, she had to take the plunge. An image of Bear yelling into the ether, the outlines sharp and clear, the colours bold and bright. He knew what it was like, struggling to navigate the world around him.

All the same, reluctance stuck its claws into her. ‘If I tell you, you might think badly of me.’

Bear’s voice dropped. ‘Is this about when you were younger? I didn’t have an easy time growing-up either, remember. If anyone could understand, it would be me.’

Skye recalled his stories and swallowed a bubble of shame. She had allowed the slightest sliver of a fear that he might judge her to catch hold. Still, little could compete with The Event To End All Events.

But she had to tell him. She owed it to them both to do so. If she couldn’t tell Bear, she couldn’t tell anyone. She had to be honest.

Bear waited, and Skye took a deep breath, and began.

‘I was pretty wild as a teenager. Actually, that doesn’t really do it justice. I was almost out-of-control. Some of the things I did . . . If I had a daughter who carried on the way I did, I’d have been pulling my hair out.

‘It started when I moved school, to Lady Mary Sutherland’s. My father was the headteacher, and he thought it would be best to keep me close. I’d already started doing things he didn’t like, like sneaking out to parties and getting my eyebrow pierced.’

‘That’s hardly bad,’ Bear said.

‘And my belly button, and my nose.’

‘Still not bad.’

‘No. I didn’t think so. And I still don’t. But Dad was worried and he wanted more control. It completely backfired.

‘Instead of making me more compliant, I hated that he’d dragged me away from my friends — who he thought were bad influences — and was trying to tell me who to be. Instead of miraculously becoming saintly, I threw it back in his face.’

‘Being a teenage rebel is hardly shocking,’ said Bear.

He didn’t sound appalled, or shocked. But there was plenty more to confess. ‘I was quite extreme. Sometimes I did things which I thought were important, but a lot of the time I was sticking two fingers up at Dad. Hurricane Skye was born out of a sense of self-righteousness.’

‘Go on, then.’

Skye hadn’t told anyone this much. Not any of her gap year or uni friends, or anyone on her law course, not the boyfriend she had before Will, not Will himself, not Houda. If written down, the list of misdemeanours could fill reams of paper.

‘Why don’t I give you my top three,’ she said. ‘Or we could be here forever.’

‘Go for it,’ said Bear. ‘I promise I won’t bat an eyelid.’

Skye hoped he was right, but she doubted it.

‘I got a tattoo when I was fifteen, as a dare from my friend Janet, when we were skipping school. Fake ID, worked every time. An enormous long snake that coiled around my upper arm, over my shoulder and down to my ribcage. I had it removed during my gap year — which cost a bloody fortune. It wasn’t really my thing.’

‘Not so bad. I had one too,’ said Bear. ‘Georgia’s name. Proof you’re not the only one with regrettable body art. I had mine removed too.’

‘Fist bump,’ said Skye.

Bear obliged. Skye felt bolstered by the gesture of solidarity, but . . . She took a deep breath.

‘One morning, Me and Janet leapt out of the window in the science block — ground floor, I should add — and with the spare keys I’d pinched from his bedside cabinet, we unlocked Dad’s car. We managed to get it out of the car park, and then we drove from Edinburgh to Glasgow. Well, Janet drove, because her brother had taught her. We were going to a Greener Earth protest, and the trains were down. Oh, and she didn’t have a licence, neither of us did. It was a hairy drive.’

Bear let out a low chuckle. ‘Christ, Skye. That’s wild. And kind-of ballsy.’ His tone was lighter than she had expected.

Skye gulped. ‘Yeah, well, that done, we drove back, and we were going to put the car right back to where it had been, only Janet crashed it into a bollard while getting het up about being caught. Hard. I got whiplash, we both had concussion from the airbags. The front of the car was ruined.’

‘Jesus, Skye.’ Bear could hardly hide his shock now.

‘I got excluded for a week, as did Janet. There were talks with the police, and a social worker. But Dad didn’t press charges, and it never went to court.’

‘Your dad would never have done that, would he?’

‘To teach me a lesson? And to demonstrate he was in control of his own family? He might well have done. I often wonder if he should have done.’

‘You were OK in the end though?’

Skye nodded, explaining that after a week off school, most of which had been spent recovering from the concussion, she had been allowed to return.

She glanced at him and Bear gave a smile. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘So that’s a bit worse. Props for ingenuity though.’

‘Those infractions aside, I changed my hair colour by the week, which I was often sent home for. I had the multiple piercings — many of which Janet did with a safety pin — I wore outfits and makeup that made even my laid-back mum’s hair stand on end. I’d go out all weekend, partying, causing trouble, only popping back for lunch.

‘I began to loathe my father’s principles. It all seemed so old-fashioned, so in league with the powers that be, so anti-progress. His values seemed to have come from the Bible — which was like contradictory fiction — and I’d read all manner of philosophy to rile him at the dinner table. Nietzsche was my hero.’

‘Don’t we all go through these stages?’

‘Do we? Did you?’

Skye glanced over at Bear. He looked back at her expectantly, waiting for her to keep going. She hesitated for a second, because she knew that even if everyone did go through these stages, few people could hold a candle.

‘Sometimes I felt like I was a warrior, like when I’d go on protests for things I really did believe in. I once disappeared for a whole weekend to join a march in London that I knew went against my father’s own, very traditional, political beliefs; he’s very conservative, small “c” and big “C”, which is all in alignment with his very religious views. I sent my mum a text about it, but otherwise didn’t see them until I rocked up on Sunday night. But it had been a cause I was passionate about. I had to fight the injustice that was everywhere I looked.’

Skye remembered the blood pumping through her veins, the excitement of standing up for what she believed in, standing shoulder to shoulder with thousands of other protesters.

‘But that’s great,’ said Bear. ‘You had purpose.’

‘Occasionally. Other times I was playing games with my father, but I hardly cared. And it was exhausting, too. I had all this furious energy waiting to break out, but once it was spent I’d be left shattered. It’s why I loved coming up to Eastercraig. No father to argue with, no mother to stress out. Nowhere to sneak out to other than the rocks, which Uncle Hugh encouraged anyway. I could still hold my beliefs, but there was no need to express them so . . .’

‘Fervidly? When did you stop? When did Hurricane Skye become just Skye.’

It had taken a long time, and the mother of all incidents to make her realize she had to stop. The last of her top three. The Event To End All Events. Skye felt her insides clench as she recalled it.

‘I went a step too far. Can we take a pause? I hate thinking about it.’

Bear put a hand on her shoulder, gave it a comforting squeeze.

‘Then tell me what happened after it,’ he suggested.

Honestly? The shock of The Event had been a wake-up call. Once she had left school, and left home, Skye thought she might be free of it all. This she told Bear, after crunching through another car sweet. She could leave the city and leave it all behind. Her mum had cried, and Skye struck an uneasy truce with her father, temping in an office to raise money before first joining a catering course for want of any better ideas, then going off and volunteering at a school in rural Argentina.

Far away from Edinburgh, she could be herself, be the girl she wanted to be. She read books, she hiked, she went to see sights she had on her list of places to go. Her one-year gap year became a two-year gap year, including another stint of volunteering at the school in Patagonia that she had loved so much, and by the time she got to uni, she wasn’t Skye the teenage rebel with an almost-rap sheet, but a law undergrad on a mission to succeed. Then, after beating a hundred applicants to the job at Tilling and Browne — which she had never expected to get, and felt she would be a fool to refuse — she had been reborn as Skye Edmonds, the hard-working, positive joiner, a team-member who people liked to chat to in the kitchen.

‘Look at you now,’ said Bear. ‘World at your feet. About to head back into the office, retake your exam and become the lawyer you want to be.’

Skye heaved a great breath. ‘That’s the problem, Bear. I’m not that person. I’ve become a corporate sell-out. All the raving, the partying, the general disobedience, I’m happy to have left that behind. But I’ve left behind my principles, my beliefs.’

‘How do you mean?’

Skye thought back. The feeling she was in the wrong place would strike her from time to time, but rarely enough to put her off course from her well-paid job in a high-profile firm. She had all the trappings of success. Nobody who knew Skye from school could say she hadn’t come out the other side of her stormy period, and left it well behind.

‘From the outside, it looks like I made up for my mistakes. But I’ve gone and made a bigger one. I went from raging against the machine to greasing the cogs of it. My boyfriend, the one I broke up with, he would never have appealed to me once. And as I sat in the exam, thinking about how he betrayed me, I realized I’d betrayed myself.’

What was she doing, working for that firm, taking on those cases which made her question her choices? Ten years ago, she would have been appalled if she had known it was where she would end up.

‘I was so idealistic back then. I thought I’d be helping solve hunger, or poverty, or climate change, and I’m miles from that now. And in the midst of sitting that paper, after learning the truth about Will, it all fell into place. I had a massive panic attack.’

Bear put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry, Skye.’

She put her hand over her mouth for a second, recalling that moment almost a month ago. Bear reached over and took it, and held it in his own.

‘So you see, I couldn’t go back with you the other night.’ Skye took her hand back and returned it to wheel as she turned a bend. ‘I was in such a state, the anxiety coming for me. I was fretting about who I was, Hurricane Skye, and who I am now. And . . . I don’t know who I am. It’s why I’m going home. I have to talk to my parents. If I carry on like this, working in a job I don’t believe in, I’m letting myself down. But if I quit this theoretically amazing role at Tilling and Browne, I’ll feel like I’m letting them down.’

Bear coughed, and she snuck a look, seeing that his eyes were on her. ‘If it helps, I like who you are, even if you aren’t clear on it.’

A laugh bubbled up, as her insides did pirouettes. ‘Thanks. I thought I’d be more together by now. It’s a bit embarrassing, really.’

‘It shouldn’t be. I’ve seen you during some of what might be considered un-together moments — crying on a bench with bird poo down your back. I didn’t think any less of you for it, and probably liked you more. You saw me at a low point, the first time we met, and I like to think you haven’t held it against me. Have you?’

Skye considered this. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I probably like you more for that, too.’

‘Good,’ said Bear. ‘Glad that’s settled. And when you go back to work, go and have a wee word with HR.’

‘You make it sound easy.’

‘I don’t mean to. I know it isn’t. After I broke up with Georgia, I wasn’t who I wanted to be. It’s taken time and effort and some tricky choices — quitting my job included — to get to where I want to be. But none of that uncertainty ever made me a bad person. What you’ve just said? You’re not one. And, Skye, your past doesn’t define you either.’

Skye shot him a glance. ‘You weren’t horrified by my high jinks?’

‘What do you want me to say? You’re a wee scoundrel who deserves to be punished? You had a rough time, but you’re obviously not a bad person.’

‘You don’t think so?’

She braked at a set of traffic lights, and Bear gave her a firm look. Skye searched his face for insincerity, but found none. Instead, all she could see was the faith he had in her. A wave of heat surged through her.

‘No, not at all. You’re kind and thoughtful, and supportive and positive and . . . Look — if this is you, thinking you’re a mess, for what’s it’s worth you’re awesome. Maybe your rebellious streak was your superpower, and you never knew it . . .’

Bear tailed off. As she pulled away from the lights, Skye snuck a glimpse of him, noting his cheeks were pinkening. He’d seen her at what she considered her absolute worst. Well, almost worst. She hadn’t managed to tell him about The Event To End All Events. But, that aside, her almost-worst was good enough.

‘Thanks,’ she said, a smile threatening to break out. ‘It’s nice to know you believe in me.’

Bear shrugged. ‘I do. Have some confidence in yourself. You really ought to.’

It was true. The only thing holding her back was herself.

Inside, Skye’s every cell was leaping. Bear was in her corner, and with him behind her, she was ready to go.