I’m not dead.
I stuffed my phone into my big slouchy bag where I carried my sketch pad and pencils. It was Friday, my day off. Since the studio was busiest at the weekends, I got Thursday and Friday off instead. Yesterday I’d spent cleaning the flat and reading a book Rae let me borrow. Today I was going to the castle. I couldn’t get the idea of trying my hand at landscape painting out of my head. I’d never painted before, but it wasn’t the first time I’d fancied giving it a go . . .
*
“What the hell is that?”
I stared at the box of acrylic paint he was pointing to. “Paints.”
“You don’t fucking paint.”
“I’m going to, though.”
“No. You’re not. You’re going to return those expensive-as-fuck paints you can’t bloody use.”
Unsure now, I stared at the box.
Sensing my sadness, he wrapped his hand around my neck, forcing me to meet his eyes. They were soft, concerned. “Babe, I’m sorry. I just want you to get this art thing out of your head so we can get real. I don’t mean to hurt you, but there’s not much of a career in it for most people and you really need to be megatalented to succeed. There’s no point sinking your time and money into something you’re not good at.”
That conversation and the many that had come before it played in my head as I made my way to Edinburgh Castle. I paid the entry fee and hoofed it to the top, where I had a wonderful view of the city. Battling against the soft wind that fluttered the corners of my paper up every now and then, I began to sketch it, already imagining painting it in nighttime colors with streaks of electric tones for the lights.
I was going to use acrylic, I thought determinedly, anger burning in my gut.
I was going to use my first paycheck to buy myself those bloody acrylics I’d returned because of him.
Tears stung my eyes, and my mouth trembled as I glared out at the city. If it was the last thing I did, I would buy those acrylics and use them . . . and somehow, hopefully, along the way I was going to find the girl I’d lost because of him.
*
Pleased with the work I’d done at the castle, I returned back to the flat in a better mood than the one I’d left it in. Before going home I went food shopping, buying fresh fish, vegetables, and baby potatoes. I put it together with a sauce my gran had taught me to make and took pleasure in the fact that I’d rendered Rae speechless when she returned from work to a meal.
She took a bite of the fish in its homemade sauce and made a little moan of pleasure. I forcefully shoved the reminder of her sex noises out of my mind.
“You weren’t kidding,” Rae said with her mouth full. “Did you steam this?”
I nodded as I ate.
“It’s lovely.” She swallowed and took a swig of water. “You’re full of surprises, wee fairy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t.”
“Stu told us how you reacted to him calling you that.” She grunted. “I would have looked like I wanted to kick him in the balls too if he’d called me that.”
My eyes grew round. “Did he say that’s what I looked like?” At Rae’s nod, I whispered, “Why did he hire me, then?”
“Said you had spunk. I didn’t believe him, but now I do.”
“I can die happy,” I muttered.
Rae grinned. “So come on. Spill. Why did you leave Glasgow?”
Thankful I was already looking at my plate and could easily hide my instant dislike of the turn the conversation had taken, I shrugged casually. “No reason really. I’m not that close to my family. I got laid off at my last job. I decided it was time for a change of scenery. My gran used to live on Scotland Street, so I know Edinburgh pretty well and have always loved it here. It’s different from Glasgow. I was looking for that.”
“Aye, Cole mentioned he met you on Scotland Street years ago. Says you can’t remember, though.” She eyed me, smirking. “Somehow I doubt that.” I shrugged again and Rae threw her head back in laughter. “Love. It.”
Before my flatmate could plague me with any more questions I wasn’t sure I was ready to answer, I said, “What about you?”
Rae put her fork down and gave it to me straight. And I mean straight. “Foster kid. Mum’s a junkie. Dad’s in jail—voluntary manslaughter. Lived in Edinburgh my whole life. Was engaged once when I was twenty. He died. I tried to commit suicide. Simon was my fiance’s best mate. He found me. He saved me, got me into the tattoo industry. Love him to bits. Five years later I met Mike at a gig. He works weird hours, but we manage. Hopefully you’ll get to meet the man behind the grunts.”
Bloody hell. That was a lot to process. The silence stretched between us as I tried to decide which part of that to acknowledge. I felt her gaze as she waited for my reaction and decided the best thing I could do was concentrate on the positive. Her life had been crap. She didn’t need me to comment on the fact that it had been.