CHAPTER 22
Mhari watches the bus drive off, her face the picture of comedic dismay. I shut the front door and force my attention back to Ryan.
“Is that Kirsty’s ex?” he asks. “The guy she’s trying to get back with?”
What other answer is there? “Yes,” I say. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll show you around the village.”
It will take all of ten minutes, but it beats sitting in the house. I start at the loch-side and wonder at the tactlessness of the weather, which has decided against reflecting my mood and is instead sunny, dry and whisper it, warm. The dog walkers pass us, various golden retrievers and Labradors tearing ahead in a bid to obliterate the wild bird and duck population.
“I meant it,” Ryan says as we stop to watch them, the water lapping at our feet. “About missing you. I threw
