CHAPTER NINE
Jack raises an eyebrow when he picks me up at the front of Glasgow Central Station loaded down with bags. “Retail therapy,” I say. Fortune had smiled on me, and it was the start of summer sales. I picked up some serious bargains. The shops were selling off their winter stuff, and as the Lochalshie summer is yet to prove warm enough for tee shirts and short skirts, I loaded up on sweaters, scarves and gloves.
“Where’s Stewart?” I ask, fingers crossed behind my back.
“He decided to stay in Glasgow. He met someone on the course who’s just as... keen on coding, and the guy offered him a bed for the night so they could continue their chat.”
Oh, one hundred thank you’s, the Gods of Entertainment for stepping in to save me from death by boredom. The mini-bus’s inhabitants, those
