Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
LACHLAN
My gut tightens as we approach the waterfront, the four of us—me, Blair, Finn, and Gus—walking together into town for the last time.
Blair’s packed and ready. Suitcase loaded in her hire car.
Her flight leaves Glasgow in the morning, which means she’ll be driving down tonight, straight after this party.
In a few hours she’ll be gone, and every step we take towards the harbour feels like a countdown.
I keep telling myself tonight should be a celebration. Smile, talk, eat, drink. Send Blair off with nothing but warmth and good wishes. But Christ, I’m not ready for goodbye.
I glance sideways at her, and my chest does something complicated.
She’s always been beautiful, but just to really rub things in, tonight she’s fucking devastating.
Navy figure-hugging dress, her hair sleek and sophisticated in an elegant bun, a hint of colour on her lips that makes me want to taste her.
She looks ready for New York. Ready for publishing events and important meetings and all the brilliant things she’s going to achieve. And it just about kills me.
“Da, do I look smart enough?” Finn asks, tugging at his collar. Shirt and trousers tonight, instead of the shorts and T-shirt that have been his summer uniform.
“You look very handsome, lad.” I ruffle his hair, though he’s been unusually quiet all day. Can’t blame him. We’re both struggling with this.
Gus pads alongside us, tail lower than usual, like even he knows something’s ending.
When we reach the open space by the Fisherman’s Memorial, Blair gasps. “Oh my God!”
It’s like the summer festival has been brought back for one more evening: bunting back up between lampposts, fairy lights glowing along the harbour rail. By the memorial, a couple of tables are laid out with traybakes, bottles chilling in tubs, and rows of glasses waiting to be filled.
And then there’s the turnout, more than I expected. Not just the usual faces—Struan, Douglas, Ellie, the kids—but a proper crowd. Even Torq and some of the Corraig folk are here, though that doesn’t surprise me. They knocked on the bridge door earlier to say hello, on the last ferry run of the day.
A chorus of fond greetings erupts—“Blair!”, “There she is!”, “Welcome, love!”—and Blair presses a hand to her chest, cheeks flushing, laughing in surprise.
Flora bustles over, beaming. “Told you I’d manage a party! Before these decorations went back into storage, I convinced everyone we could get one more use out of them. What do you think?”
“It’s amazing!” Blair says. “But it’s too much just for me.”
“Don’t be daft,” Flora says. “We have to see you off properly. You matter to us, Blair. All of us. Now, what can I get you to drink?”
As Flora leads Blair away to get her a drink—“Something soft, please. I’m driving tonight”—everyone gravitates towards her like she’s the sun.
Cue laughter, hugs, promises to keep in touch.
Part of me is proud of how much she means to everyone.
But mostly? I’m bloody envious. This is my last night with Blair, and I’m having to share her with half the town.
Finn hugs my side, like it’s not just Gus who’s on a lead.
“Look, lad, there’s Logan, Rosie, and Isla. Why don’t you go off and play?”
Finn shrugs. “Maybe later.”
Can’t really blame him. I’m hardly in the mood for a party either.
But no. I can’t let myself wallow in this. Blair’s given us a gift: shown us how to be happier, more open, more alive. I can’t let our wee family slip back to how we were before she came. It’s up to me now to keep that light burning, even when she’s gone.
I force myself to straighten and summon up a smile. “Actually, you know what? How about we play a game of tig? I can be it. Well, me and Gus can.”
Finn’s face lights up for the first time all day. “Really? You’ll play with us?”
“Really. Come on, Gus. Let’s show these kids what we’re made of.”
Soon I’m chasing all four around, trying to tig them, while they laugh, whoop, and shriek with delight. It’s daft, it’s noisy, and for a few minutes it almost works. The heaviness lifts, just a little. Gus enjoys the game just as much as we humans do, if not more.
Tomorrow the kids will be back in school uniforms, sitting in classrooms. Tonight, though, they’re wild things, and I’m right there with them. After a while, I catch Blair watching us from the crowd, a smile curving her mouth. I grin back at her.
We go on playing until Ellie taps a microphone, checking it’s working.
By this point I’m breathless and the bairns are all rosy-cheeked.
Seems like it’s speech time, and apparently I’m the only grown-up without a drink.
I’m about to sort that when Struan waltzes over, a bottle of lager in each hand.
“You’ve earned this, mate, after all that running.” He passes me one of the beers.
“Right, everyone!” Ellie says. She’s standing by the memorial, smoothing her skirt with her free hand, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “If I could have your attention for just a few moments.”
The crowd gradually quiets, conversations dying down as everyone turns towards her.
“Normally when I do public speaking,” she begins, “it’s to a group of children, and the words have already been written down and printed in a book.
This is... different. But maybe I can be inspired by Blair and step out of my comfort zone.
After all, she came to this place where she didn’t know anyone, so I can at least manage a short speech. ”
She takes a breath, finding her rhythm. “I don’t want to let Blair go without saying a proper goodbye to such a wonderful friend. In such a short time, you’ve become so important to me—to all of us. You’re going to be missed terribly.”
Something lodges in my throat as Ellie goes on about Blair’s kindness, her way with Finn and the other kids, how she brings light wherever she goes. Every word rings true. Every word makes this harder.
“You know, mate,” Struan mutters, leaning close, “you’re a bloody idiot if you let her get on that plane without telling her how you feel.”
Christ. He picks his moments.
I glance at Blair, her cheeks flushing as Ellie piles on the praise, embarrassment written clear on her face.
“It’s her dream job,” I murmur back. “I’m not going to stand in her way.
She’s twenty-seven. She’s got plenty of time to find love after she’s settled in her career.
And maybe... maybe I’ll find it again too.
Before Blair, I never thought I would. Now I know it’s possible.
” But even as the words leave my mouth, they ring untrue.
I’m not convinced there will be anyone else. Not quite like Blair.
“Putting her needs above yours?” Struan says. “That’s sweet. Also? Bollocks. You need to tell her how you feel. Let her decide what she wants. Don’t make that call for her.”
Shit. Is Struan right?
I look across at Blair again, lit up under the fairy lights, radiant and gorgeous. Soon she’ll be gone. Back to her real life, her career, her future. Everything she’s worked so hard for.
But what if . . . ?
Before I can talk myself out of it, I down my beer, shove Gus’s lead at Struan, then stride over to Ellie.
“Sorry,” I say, hand outstretched for the microphone. “Can I . . . ?”
Ellie blinks, puzzled, but passes it over. And now all eyes are on me. My hand shakes slightly as I bring the mic to my lips.
Christ. What am I doing?
Finn’s wide eyes lock on me, and for a moment my throat closes up. Everyone’s watching. Waiting.
Then I find Blair in the crowd, and suddenly everything else fades away.
“I’m proud of you,” I say. “For landing this amazing job. I know you’re going to be brilliant in New York. But... the thing is...”
I swallow hard, my heart hammering so loud I’m sure the microphone must be picking it up.
“Before you go, there’s something I need to say. I love you.”
A collective intake of breath ripples through the crowd. Blair presses a hand to her mouth, staring at me, stunned.
“I was lost at sea for a long time,” I continue, the words coming easier now. “But Blair, you’ve given me back more than I thought I’d ever have. You’ve given me hope. You’ve shown me how to live again, not just survive.”
My voice cracks but I push on. “I don’t want to clip your wings.
If you want to go back to New York, you should.
Of course you should. I’d never stand in your way.
But if you want to try your hand at your own stories, I know you’ll make a success of that too.
And I’d be glad to support you until you’re on your feet. ”
I take a shaky breath. “I just want you to know you’ve got choices, Blair. And one of them is here. With me. With Finn. With Gus.”
Silence. Complete, absolute silence except for the gentle lap of waves against the harbour wall.
Every eye turns from me to Blair. She stands rooted, breath caught, as if she can’t quite believe what I’ve just said. I wait for her to speak, to let me down gently, to explain why this is impossible.
Instead, she moves, parting the crowd, slow, steady steps until she’s in front of me. Tears are gathering in her eyes. She clears her throat like she’s about to speak but nothing comes. Her lips part but there’s no sound.
She just stands there, eyes wet, mouth trembling, and I brace for the rejection I know is coming.
Then she rises on her toes and kisses me.
It’s soft at first, tentative, like she’s testing if I’m real. Just her lips against mine, her breath, and the world falling away. No ferries, no career in New York, no ticking clock. Just us. Just this. Everything else disappears.
When she pulls back, one hand clutches at my shirt like she needs an anchor. I don’t know what’s coming next. Was that her goodbye, wrapped up in a kiss? Is she about to thank me for a wonderful summer but tell me she really must go?
The whole harbour holds its breath with me.
Then, finally, she speaks—so softly it’s like it’s just for me, yet the hush is so complete everyone hears it.
“I’ll stay.”
For a heartbeat, nothing. No one moves, no one speaks. It’s like the whole harbour is stunned into the same disbelief rattling through me. Did she really just say that?
And then the noise hits. A roar of cheers, clapping, whistles, laughter.
I think I’m the last one to catch on. But then it finally sinks in, and my hands find her waist, hauling her against me, and I kiss her again.
The cheers only get louder. “About bloody time!” Douglas shouts from somewhere in the crowd.
Blair’s lips part from mine then brush my ear as she whispers, just for me, “I love you too.”
Those four words slam through me harder than the roar of the whole harbour.
Then Finn barrels into us, his arms wrapping around both our waists in a fierce hug. Gus, apparently having pulled free from Struan, bounds over too, lead dangling behind him, and suddenly we’re a tangle of arms and paws and laughter.
And then we’re surrounded, people pressing close, patting our backs, calling out their congratulations.
Struan finds me and, grinning, says, “When I told you to tell Blair how you feel, I was thinking more of a private conversation after Ellie’s speech. But what you did worked too!”
I clap Struan on the shoulder, then my eyes are on Blair again. On the woman who just chose me, chose us, chose Ardmara.
Turns out tonight isn’t an ending after all. It’s the start of something new. Something bloody brilliant.