Chapter One #2
‘Oh.’ Maura heard the faint squeak in her voice and took a deep breath. It was time to take control of herself and act like a professional. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Jamie.’
‘I hope so,’ he said, a smile curving the corners of his mouth again. ‘Even though you’re secretly hoping I’m going to leave you alone soon.’
‘I am not,’ she protested and was startled to realise she meant it. ‘I have a tendency to hide away at these things and then be annoyed at myself afterwards for not speaking to anyone,’ she admitted. ‘At least I can congratulate myself later on talking to you.’
Jamie laughed, a deep, warm sound that Maura found made her want to laugh too. ‘I’m not sure anyone has ever congratulated themselves for being cornered by me. But you’re very kind to say so.’
His wry self-deprecation was as charming as it was misplaced. Maura raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t believe that for a second.’
‘You don’t?’ His blue eyes rested on her with interest. ‘Then have dinner with me. Tonight, when the gallery closes.’
She gaped at him, wrongfooted again. ‘I – uh –’
‘But I’m an idiot,’ he said, slapping his forehead. ‘You must have plans – a glittering celebration with your friends and family. Your boyfriend.’
Maura pressed her lips together. She did indeed have plans, and they involved a hot-water bottle, pyjamas and her sofa.
But Jamie didn’t need to know that. He was giving her a way out, an excuse to turn him down without either of them losing face, and she was very much surprised to realise she didn’t want to.
‘No,’ she said, before she could change her mind.
‘I don’t have anything planned. Dinner sounds good. ’
To her mild amusement, he looked momentarily nonplussed, as though taken aback by her assent. ‘So it’s a date, then?’
Maura gazed up at him, noticing all over again how broad he was, so that he almost towered over her, even though he had taken care to keep some distance between them. He must work out, a distracted part of her brain observed, even as she smiled in acceptance. ‘Yes. It’s a date.’
That had been more than five years ago, Maura reminded herself as she was roused from her memories by another enthusiastic roar, and it had been a long time since Jamie had shown such interest in her work.
These days he left her to it in the pottery studio below the Dean Village flat they shared, and she couldn’t remember the last time he’d come to one of her shows, although it had been years since she’d had a glitzy solo exhibition like the one where they’d met.
It was the way all couples went, she knew – familiarity led to comfort, which eventually bred a benign lack of curiosity in even the most loving relationships.
Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain exactly what Jamie did for a living, beyond ‘something clever in investment banking’.
It didn’t mean anything. And yet there were times when Maura couldn’t help feeling a little wistful for the man who had wooed her so determinedly when they’d first met.
Zoe materialised in front of her, a glass of Coke in one hand and a red wine in the other. ‘Mission accomplished,’ she announced as she sat beside Maura once more. ‘He’s an actor, which explains the pretty face, but he’s taking a break at the moment.’
‘An actor,’ Maura echoed. ‘Is he famous?’
Zoe took a swig of wine. ‘He says not but I suppose that’s what he would say. I didn’t recognise his name so he can’t have been in any big films or done much TV.’
Maura took a sip of her own drink. ‘He could be a stage actor. What’s he called?’
‘Fraser Bell,’ Zoe said, and Maura felt a clang in the pit of her stomach.
That was a name she knew, although she hadn’t heard it for years.
It couldn’t be the same person, could it?
There had to be more than one Fraser Bell in Edinburgh.
But an actor… that was harder to write off as a coincidence.
‘Was he – is he Scottish?’ she managed, after a few seconds had ticked by.
‘Yes,’ Zoe said. ‘He could hardly be anything else, with a name like that.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ Maura said faintly, suddenly transported to the crowded, chaotic corridors of school, where she’d admired Fraser Bell from afar.
And then the Spirit of Christmas Past raised its head, reminding her of a stolen kiss one winter’s night after they’d left school.
She tried to sound casual. ‘What’s he doing here? ’
‘Hoping to get blind drunk, like the rest of us,’ Zoe replied with a snort, then eyed Maura’s Coke. ‘Well, apart from you. Or do you mean why is he in Edinburgh?’
‘The second part.’
Zoe shrugged. ‘I didn’t ask. He just said he was taking a break from acting and I assumed he must have family here.’ She eyed Maura closely. ‘Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You don’t know him, do you?’
‘I might,’ Maura admitted, although she had no intention of saying any more than that. Zoe definitely didn’t need to know she and Fraser had been anything more than schoolmates. ‘We might have gone to school together. How old would you say he was?’
‘Mid-to-late-thirties,’ her friend said, without hesitation. ‘Around your age.’
Which meant it could be him, Maura reasoned. But guessing someone’s age was tricky, especially with men, who didn’t have the benefit of make-up to disguise the passing of the years. It was so easy to get it wrong.
It seemed Zoe had arrived at a decision while Maura dithered. ‘Go and say hello,’ she demanded, her eyes wide. ‘Go on. And if it is him, you can have a mini reunion in the kitchen. Bond over the teachers you hated, get sentimental over the old days – it’s practically the law at Hogmanay, anyway.’
Maura couldn’t argue with that – teary-eyed reminiscences were very much part of the New Year celebrations.
Except that if this was the Fraser she’d known from school, there was a very real possibility he wouldn’t remember her, let alone the drunken kiss they’d shared.
And then Maura would wish she’d left well enough alone.
Maybe it was better to try to catch a glimpse of him first, she thought, her gaze sliding towards the doorway once more.
But Zoe had the bit firmly between her teeth.
‘Go and say hello,’ she repeated, her tone gently insistent. ‘What have you got to lose?’
The question made Maura feel as though she was nineteen again, awkward and shy and with all the social skills of a mouse.
She’d changed over the years – art school in London had helped with that, and the need to develop some confidence to sell her work – but she’d never lost her shyness.
And Zoe only knew the bare facts – she had no idea Maura had nursed a crush on Fraser at school, much less snogged him once.
But both of those things had happened a long time ago and she hadn’t thought of Fraser for years.
Would it really cost her anything to see if it was him?
It didn’t need to be anything more than a fleeting conversation.
Especially if he failed to recognise her.
‘Okay,’ she said at last, unsure whether the sudden flutter in her stomach was caused by nervousness or anticipation. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Excellent,’ Zoe said, and Maura thought she might actually clap her hands. ‘I’ll come too.’
‘No.’ The word was out before Maura could stop it; she didn’t need a witness to the humiliation she felt sure was coming. ‘Let me see if it’s him first.’
Zoe sighed. ‘Fine. I’ll give you five minutes and then I’m coming in.’
There was a strong possibility Maura would have fled by then but she kept that to herself. ‘Okay. Wish me luck.’
‘You’re going into the kitchen at a party,’ Zoe observed with a grin. ‘Not storming the Bastille. You don’t need luck.’
If only she knew, Maura thought as she made her way across the room. Then again, it was much better that she didn’t.