Down London Road

into someone else’s world for a while.
    ‘Jo?’
    ‘Mmm-hmm?’
    ‘I googled that guy you’re dating. Malcolm Hendry.’
    My head snapped up from my book, my pulse racing a little faster all of a sudden. ‘Why?’
    Cole shrugged. Again. ‘You haven’t said much about him.’ He scowled at me. ‘He’s a bit old, do you not think?’
    ‘Not really.’
    ‘He’s fifteen years older than you.’
    I really didn’t want to be having this conversation with Cole of all people. ‘I like him a lot. You will too.’
    Cole snorted. ‘Yeah, like I’m going to meet him. I met Callum only a handful of times and you dated him for two years.’
    ‘I don’t want to introduce you to someone who might not stick around. But I have a good feeling about Malcolm.’
    His next question was asked softly but with a hint of disdain that shot me right in the heart. ‘Is it because he’s loaded?’
    ‘No,’ I answered tightly. ‘It’s not.’
    ‘You date a lot of wankers, Jo, and I know it’s because they’ve got money. You don’t have to.’ His face was starting to colour now with frustrated anger. ‘
She
makes you miserable enough – you don’t need to be going out with some tool just so we don’t have to worry about money. As soon as I turn sixteen I’m getting a job so I can help.’
    I think it was the longest Cole had ever spoken in onesitting in about a year. And his declaration felt like a punch in the gut. I sat up straight, my own cheeks blazing hot with annoyance. ‘Don’t use the “w” word. And to answer your question, I’m dating a guy I really care about, and he just happens to have money. And you are not getting a job at sixteen. You’re finishing high school and you’re going to uni or art school or whatever the hell it is you want to do. But I’ll be damned if you end up in some crap job because you’re a bloody high school dropout!’ I was breathing hard with fear at the thought of it.
    Cole stared at me, his green eyes round with astonishment at my outburst. ‘Jesus, chill, Jo. It was just an idea.’
    ‘It was a bad idea.’
    ‘Aye, I’m getting that.’
    I relaxed at the teasing in his voice and leaned back into the couch, pulling my paperback up to my face. ‘Just draw, you pain in the ass.’
    He choked back his laughter and put down his mug to start drawing again.
    After a minute, I looked at him over the top of my book. ‘Just so you know … I love you, baby boy.’
    ‘Mmm-hmm, lu uu uu.’
    I deduced that was ‘Mmm-hmm, love you too’ in teenage muttering.
    My lips twitched against an answering grin, a warm contentment settling in my chest as I stared down at the pages of my book.



7
    Even though it was the end of February, and March was but a day away, Edinburgh was still freezing. The frigid sea air rushed up towards New Town, blasting those who were unfortunate enough to find themselves walking north towards it, unprotected by the buildings.
    Malcolm and I stayed out of the direct lambasting of icy wind as we strolled along George Street, going in and out of dress shops, and then down Frederick Street and on to the cobbled Rose Street, one of my favourite lanes in Edinburgh. It was packed with restaurants and pubs and boutiques, and we had lunch in a pub before carrying on to Harvey Nichols on St Andrew Square.
    ‘No, no, this is awful,’ I told Malcolm through the curtain of the changing cubicle. By this point I’d tried on at least fifteen dresses and neither of us could agree on one that we both liked. Becca was treating us to dinner at the Michelin Star restaurant Martin Wishart and Malcolm insisted on buying me something new to wear.
    ‘Why? What’s wrong with it?’ he asked, his voice coming closer to the curtain.
    I couldn’t believe he wasn’t bored out of his mind yet, but he seemed to be pretty patient with shopping. In fact, I got the distinct impression he enjoyed it. Or at least, he enjoyed spoiling me … which was lovely.
    Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I wrinkled mynose in distaste. The dress was so sheer you could almost see my nipples through it. Add the fact that it had a cut-out back and a short hemline and I might as well pin a piece of paper to my chest that said FOR SALE.
    ‘Let me see.’
    ‘No.’ i moved to hold the curtain closed, but i was too late.
    Malcolm’s face appeared in the gap he’d created and his dark eyes glittered mischievously as they ran down the length of me and then came to rest on my chest.