Page 29 of Highland Getaway
‘Really? You’re not making friends with the other influencers, then? I’d have thought you’d all have loads in common, what with the shopping, and the selfies, and all that?’
Hunter smiles to soften his words, but they sting nonetheless.
‘I thought I’d make friends with them all, too,’ I reply, perching on the end of the sofa. ‘Or I hoped I would. I was really excited about getting to meet them all, but .?.?. well, they’re nothing like the way they come across on their socials. None of them are. And it’s not all about “shopping and selfies” by the way,’ I can’t resist adding. ‘Idothink about other things as well, you know.’
‘Oh, aye? Like what? What does Rosie Winter like to do when she’s not shopping?’
‘I .?.?. um .?.?.’
I look around the room, as if for inspiration. Going by the guitars, and all of the records he has lying around, it’s not hard to guess that music is one of Hunter’s interests; history, too, judging by the books I can see on the shelf. But me .?.?.
I wrack my brain, trying to think of something I do, other than going to work and coming back home again. I don’t think watching true crime on Netflix, or going to the pub with my friends counts as a hobby somehow, but, other than those things, I’m coming up painfully empty here. My entire adult life so far has basically been spent working to pay for all of the things I want to buy .?.?. which I never really have the opportunity to enjoy, because I’m too busy working to pay for them.
I have a feeling there has to be more to life than this; I’m just not totally sure what it is, yet.
‘I don’t really know,’ I admit, thinking about Agnes, and how certain she was about her future. ‘I guess that’s what I’m here to find out.’
Hunter looks at me intently; which is such a novel experience for me and my invisibility cloak that I have to fight the impulse to glance over my shoulder, just to make sure there isn’t someone standing there who’s more deserving of this kind of intensity.
‘What do you do for work, then, when you’re not pretending to be an influencer?’ he asks, the softness of his tone making me feel like he’s genuinely interested, and not just making polite conversation; another novelty for me.
I tell him about my boring office job, which I called in sick to in order to come up here, and he chuckles when I admit I’d sometimes ratherbesick than have to spend one more day sitting in that temperature-controlled box with a view of the car park.
‘Well, if it’s a big change you’re looking for, you’ve come to the right place for it,’ he says, toying with his whisky glass. ‘You’ve already seen whatmyoffice looks like.’
He tilts his head to indicate the window, which, like mine, looks out across the sprawling grounds of the estate, and down to the deserted beach beyond. There’s still a faint touch of light on the horizon, despite the lightness of the hour. I’m starting to think it must never get properly dark here; instead, time just stretches out, as if there’s plenty of it to go around, and it’s never going to run out.
It makes me feel almost light-headed from the sense of space and .?.?. well,freedom, it inspires. In a place like this, I could be anything I wanted to be.
I just have to figure out what, exactly, that is first.
‘Don’tyouever get lonely, though?’ I ask, in a blatant attempt to find out where Hannah’s mum is, or if there’s anyone else in the picture. ‘You don’t miss being around other people?’
‘I think most people are overrated, Rosie,’ he says simply, putting the glass down and getting to his feet. ‘Hannah and Stevie are more than enough for me.’
I nod as if I completely get this, although my heart sinks slightly; both from the admission that he doesn’t seem to have room for anyone else in his life, and from the fact that he’s obviously getting ready to kick me out of his apartment.
And just when I was starting to enjoy his company, too.
‘Look, I better go and find a spare key for you,’ he says. ‘Dante’s basically nocturnal, as far as I can tell, but even he has to go to bed sometime. I’ll go and catch him before he clocks off for the night, if you wouldn’t mind waiting here for a minute? I’d take you with me, but I don’t want Hannah to wake up and come looking for me.’
‘Oh, no, of course,’ I say, sitting back down. ‘No problem.’
‘Help yourself to another drink while you’re waiting,’ he says over his shoulder as he leaves. ‘If you think you can handle it.’
I snort with amusement at the transparent attempt to goad me, like I’m Marty McFly being called chicken. All the same, though, as the door clicks softly closed, I find myself reaching for the bottle anyway, painfully aware of a shift in the atmosphere of the little room.
Offering me one drink could just have been an act of politeness on his part; a way to thank me for looking after his daughter while he was gone. Offering me a second, though .?.?. well,thatalmost sounds like he wants me to stay longer.
Doeshe though? Or is that just wishful thinking on my part?
I look at the bottle of whisky, as if it might possibly answer my question.
I guess it wouldn’t hurt to hang around a little longer and have another tiny sip.
Chapter 12
Stevie watches with interest as I tip up the bottle and allow the smallest amount of the amber liquid possible to dribble into my glass, then take an experimental sip, looking curiously around the apartment at the same time.
