Epilogue
One year later
Rory swings me around the floor, a huge grin plastered on his face as he pulls me to a halt and then spins me in circles again.
‘Will I ever learn the steps?’ I groan when I finally slump back in my chair, regaining my breath.
‘You know the steps,’ he points out. ‘You’ve just not quite taught your feet to keep up with them yet.’
‘True. Anyway, I’m only here to see you in your kilt.’
He laughs and leans down to kiss me, ignoring the dancers all around us.
I feel dizzy, and not just from the dancing, as his lips touch mine.
He’s wearing the full Scottish get-up, from top to toe.
A MacGregor tartan kilt, white shirt, bow tie, the works.
He’s delighted with the hip flask in his sporran, with the whisky he’s saved for a special occasion.
It doesn’t get much more special than today.
Pete grins at us as he passes by, Margaret on his arm. ‘Got to watch your knee with that one around.’ Through the breakup bookshop, Margaret and Pete have grown to be companions. They reminisce about the past and look out for each other.
Fiona dances past, with Lillian by her side.
They laugh as they squabble over who should be leading the dance.
Fiona claims to be a ceilidh expert, but Lillian is quietly confident in her execution.
They live together now, in my granny’s cottage.
I’m a regular visitor to the house, which is filled with love and laughter, as they make up for the years they were separated.
Lillian teaches in the local high school and there’s more of a spring in Fiona’s step every single morning when I pop in for my coffee.
I pull Rory’s hand and guide him to the top table. I smooth my silk dress and take a seat beside Donna, while Rory sits on Finlay’s left.
Donna’s sporting a whole new look: blonde curls.
She’s firmly in what she calls her bridal era.
Eventually, with a little persuasion from me, she opened up to Finlay.
She told him her reasons for pushing him away.
Finlay said he couldn’t imagine his life without her, regardless of what their future held.
He told her, in no uncertain terms, that whether they could have children or not, she was his family.
He proposed as the clock struck midnight on Hogmanay, and she said yes.
Since then, she’s tried out a range of hairstyles and finally settled on blonde curls for their big day. Finlay sits, proud as punch, in his full kilt, one hand around his dram of whisky, the other draped around his new wife.
So, I’m in my bridesmaid era, along with Elle.
We make a great team and have spent months planning Donna’s hen party over Teams calls or dinners when she’s back in Ullapool.
When Donna told Elle that Rory and I were a couple, Elle couldn’t have been more supportive.
She’s brought her new boyfriend to the wedding as her plus one and, after a few glasses of champers, confided he may be ‘the one’.
As I gaze around the room at all the familiar faces that have connected through The Next Chapter support group, I think back to where it all started.
Bidding from Seb’s flat on a property I’d never seen, after he trampled all over my heart.
I heard through the grapevine that Seb and Macy split for good when they moved back to London.
He’s been promoted to director level, while Macy is seeing someone else.
She’s started posting on social media again, and she occasionally likes my posts.
We don’t speak, but that’s okay. We’re okay. My heart has healed.
‘So, you two, are you all ready for the big adventure?’ Donna asks as she adjusts her veil, which has moved to the side following a healthy dose of dancing.
Rory grins at me across the table.
I smile back at him. ‘We’re so ready.’
When Rory’s parents, Patricia and Ron, returned to take over the day-to-day running of The Toolbox, I made a little proposal of my own.
I asked Rory if he’d like to revisit the backpacking plans we’d discussed, Mackie and I, when we were teenagers.
Within a matter of weeks, we’d booked our trip.
Europe, Asia, Australia and New Zealand are all part of the itinerary.
Patricia offered to look after the bookshop while we were away, but I had another interested party keen to take it on.
Richard J. is moving to to be nearer Eilidh.
A famous author running a local bookshop and living in my newly renovated flat seems too good to be true, but he’s booked the removal van and is ready to go.
Eilidh has even volunteered to take on the breakup bookshop sessions in my absence and will look after Rory’s paintings.
They’ve been selling like hot cakes in the bookshop and racking up healthy online sales.
He’s even been offered an artist’s residency in Germany, which we’ve factored into our travel plans.
We’ll be back in Ullapool just in time for the inaugural book festival, so I have a lot of planning to do while we’re on our travels.
Richard J. has agreed to headline the festival and has arranged for several of his author friends to get on board too.
As soon as we return from our trip, we plan to offer creative writing classes and author events, as well as the regular support groups in the bookshop.
As the dance finishes, a familiar song begins to plays over the speakers.
‘Caledonia’.
Donna and Finlay stand in the middle of the circle and we gather around them, holding hands. I glance around the familiar faces: Eilidh and Richard, with Harry and Caden, Margaret, Pete, Fiona, Lillian and Jen. I squeeze Rory’s hand tightly.
My eyes fill with tears as I listen to the lyrics, a love song to Scotland, a place we all call home.
Ullapool has always been my spiritual home, thanks to my granny’s legacy, but it has become my real home this past year, without question.
Rory and I share an urge to travel and see more before we settle down here.
We have the same hopes for the future: thriving businesses, our own house in Ullapool and, not too far in the future, we hope, a family of our own.
I can’t believe I’ve been so lucky as to find him again. First love turns into forever love. The next chapter and my second chance.