Tinder is not the answer
“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” Shona implored her two cousins, who were sitting at the kitchen clad in loungewear, which made it pretty clear they had no intention of going out with her this Saturday night.
“Positive,” Kristy confirmed. “Colleen brought an old, handwritten recipe collection over earlier. Can you believe that someone just dropped it off at the swap shop? It has the most amazing cake recipes in it, and I really want to try some out.”
“I’m going for another ride and Da wants to talk to me about a new client who’ll be arriving with his horses soon. I don’t know what it’s about, but he seemed pretty excited.”
“Girls, it’s Saturday night! We’re young and we need to be out partying, not at home baking or riding. Nothing wrong with riding, of course. In fact, that’s exactly what I am planning, if you catch my drift ...”
“Seriously, are we going there again? Don’t you have anything but sex to talk about?” asked Kristy with an annoyed expression.
“As you well know, I have plenty to talk about. But not tonight because I deserve some fun. I want to dance and flirt and make out with someone and, if I’m lucky, get laid …
with someone who knows what they’re doing.
I’m ready for someone else to give me an orgasm for a change!
” Shona shot a provocative glance at Kristy, who just waved her off, got up and disappeared into the living room with her recipe collection.
A recipe collection for goodness sake! On a Saturday night. Unreal!
“Sounds like a solid plan,” Hailey agreed, potentially reconsidering her own agenda. “I’d be up for it, but I promised Da I’d pop round to see him. Who knows, maybe I can lure our sexy vet into the stable and have a pretend emergency in the hayloft.” She winked.
“I reckon you scared him off for good yesterday,” Shona giggled. “He looked ready to run every time you came near him.”
“Never mind, he’s just a bit uptight. But men like that are often the wildest once you’ve cracked them.”
“Well then, get cracking!”
“Likewise. And take care of yourself,” Hailey added, suddenly much more serious.
“Of course. No need to worry about me. I managed fine on my own in London, so
the lads from Inverness aren’t much of a challenge.”
“If you say so. Have you got a date yet?”
“No, zero fresh faces on Tinder. I may have to find someone the old-fashioned way. Shocking!” Shona tossed her long black hair over her shoulder, stuck out her ample chest and pouted.
“You’ll be okay, as long you’re not trying to pick up an uptight vet.”
“Hell no! Well, you have fun, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Shona waved, grabbed her handbag and was almost out the door when she remembered something else: “Nessie’s in the garden. Would you check on her later to see if she needs anything?”
“Sure, will do.”
“Thank you, you’re a darling!” With that, she finally left the cottage and got into her car. She was restless and eager to be out, to the point that it made her physically tremble with anticipation. She knew the feeling well and had given in to it a lot while living in London.
Here in Kirkby, she had calmed down; if she were honest, primarily for lack of opportunities.
None of the local single men were her cup of tea, maybe apart from the only 10 in town, Jon, whom her sister Isla had bagged.
But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Kirkby was far too small for the non-committal flirts and hook-ups she preferred.
You never knew if the other person was as laid back as she herself.
Plus, the gossip would be brutal! People talked enough rubbish about her and her flatmates.
She wasn’t too worried what people said about her, but neither did she intend on being their main source of entertainment.
Which limited her options to the odd visitor to town or the occasional trip to Inverness.
Granted, the capital of the Highlands was a backwater compared to London, but with some fifty thousand inhabitants it did offer a decent selection of men, including a sizeable student pool from the local uni with plenty of postgrads.
The only downside of going out in Inverness was the distance: twenty miles give or take wasn’t that far, not if you weren’t tired or pissed. But that meant: no wild partying.
Despite her profession, Shona had never been much of a drinker.
She enjoyed whisky and gin, but in moderation.
The stuff she preferred was much too good for binging.
Her drug of choice was enjoying life with all her senses: dancing, flirting and, yes, giving in to her bodily urges.
Nevertheless, having to make do with one glass of beer or wine and then switching to her signature lime and soda for the rest of the night was a little frustrating.
In London, she could take the tube or a hop in a cab to get home, but those weren’t available out here in the sticks.
It was either driving or spending the night at the guy’s place, which wasn’t her M.O.
But those were first-world problems, she thought with a grin. She didn’t need to drink to have fun. Contrary to conventional wisdom, she found the sex better when she was sober and in no danger of losing control.
Tonight, her first stop would be a popular pub which was frequented by an interesting crowd.
There was always live music and dancing.
Dancing was her second love after whisky, or actually her first. Even as a little girl, she had been fervent about the Highland dance classes she took with her cousins.
In high school, she was a member of the dance club and often their soloist. And while her London friends thought her passion for folk dances funny and a little weird, she was unapologetic about it.
But she wasn’t all set on Highland dance.
Depending on the occasion, she equally enjoyed dancing to disco beats or a classic waltz or foxtrot, and she could never resist a hot salsa or tango rhythm.
A man who mastered those scored highly with her because she was a firm believer that hot dance moves translated well into other hot moves too.
If she didn’t connect with anyone at the pub, she could still move on to a club where she’d find the student crowd later in the evening.
The place played good music, but most guests were pretty hammered as the night went on.
But no need to worry about that now. She would cross that bridge when she came to it.
“Why don’t you give it some more thought, love?
” said Kendrick’s mother as he turned to leave.
His expression was icy and he could have done without his ma cornering him by the door after he had just left his parents’ living room in a huff.
“It would be wonderful for Davina and Glenna and ultimately for the entire family. For you too.”
“For me too?” he barked, stunned by her utter lack of empathy for his position.
“Please, just promise to think about it,” she repeated calmly and patted his cheek. “Let it sink in, sleep on it for a night or two. I’m sure that’ll be enough time for you to come round and agree that it’s the best solution.”
“Maybe you should give some more thought as to what you’re asking of me!” he bellowed angrily. With the last remnants of his self-control fading, he turned on his heels and hurried to his car. Just get away!
Kendrick felt angry, desperate, confused, cornered and somehow emasculated, a fact that when shared earlier had only met with derisive laughter from his female family members.
His father had shown a little empathy initially but had sided with the others after a stern glance from his eldest daughter Davina.
Kendrick had no idea what to do next. Go back to Kirkby and sit alone in his cottage and spiral even further?
No, that sounded like a terrible idea. Without further ado, he parked his car in a multi-storey carpark in the busy town centre of Inverness and headed for a stroll.
This being mid-August, the town was packed with tourists.
It was usually not his favourite time of the year, but today he appreciated all the hustle and bustle.
It gave him a nice sense of being anonymous and invisible in the crowd, not the centre of attention he had been during the agonising past hours at his parents’.
Without thinking much about it, he entered a busy pub and found a seat in a quieter back alcove that gave him a good view of the goings-on.
He ordered fish and chips and a beer from a cheerful waitress, who told him that an hour from now they would start a cèilidh.
The traditional Scottish song and dance social was just what he needed to calm his nerves.
Cheerful people, upbeat music and dancing open to everybody had always been his preferred remedy for a bad mood or heartache.
At the moment, he had both in spades. That, and he was upset! The nerve of Glenna to ask this of him on the phone yesterday and the nerve of his entire family who supported her brazen demand … The thought alone made it hard to breathe.
Theoretically speaking, he should be happy that Glenna and Davina genuinely loved each other and were committed to building a life together, to starting a family.
He certainly wouldn’t begrudge his sister her happiness, and he still cared enough about the woman with whom he had spent some ten years of his life to wish her all the best. A pity though that this was far from theoretical and in fact incredibly concrete and personal!
Two of his nearest and dearest had screwed him over, cheated on him, hurt and left him – those were the facts, and seeing how the two women loved each other and felt guilty towards him did nothing to make him feel better.
Or rather, they had felt guilty, but it seemed the grace period was over and Glenna and Davina, both pragmatic doctors, had entered the next phase: family planning!