“You’re welcome,” I said, and then neither of us said anything because it seemed that something had grown between us over dinner. Perhaps it was just friendship, I told myself. We’d certainly grown closer. Friends did that. But as he took a step closer, kissing my cheek softly, I realized it was something more.
I felt immediately guilty. I hadn’t told him yet that I was ill. I knew that, like me, he was ferociously cautious about romantic relationships. But Finn was standing in front of me, so close our noses almost touched, a look in his eyes that seemed to say everything I was thinking and feeling inside. And then, a bang on the car window.
“Kiss her, Dad! Kiss her!” Cassie screamed.
Both of us laughed and took a step back.
“Aye, thanks for that, Cass,” he said, embarrassed.
“Thank you for coming,” I said, smiling. “Maybe we can spend some time together. As friends.”
If it’s possible to describe the look he gave me in the half second before he answered, I’d say he looked a little crushed, and instantly I knew I’d said the wrong thing.
“I mean . . .”
“Yes,” he said, rallying. “Actually, I could show you the rewilding project.”
I told him I’d love to, with the girls of course.
A couple of days later, he drove us all in his truck to the plain that he was rewilding with his “team,” which turned out to be his friend Willy, who had fitted the windows in the Longing, another man, Kirwin, who worked at the ferry port, and Finn’s brother, Leo, who was an older, rounder, version of Finn. He lived with his wife and three kids on the south side. The trees were little more than saplings, but haste wasn’t the objective, Finn said. “In fact, haste is the enemy,” he told the girls, who all mouthed “Haste?” at each other. “A project as important as this one demands considered planning and patience.”
“And plenty of trips to the pub,” Leo added.
“Speaking of which,” Finn said, “shall we adjourn to the island’s one and only pub? They serve fabulous chicken nuggets.”
VI
He took us through the mountains to the west side of the island, where the ferry port was. The west side was noticeably more populated than the east, with whitewashed croft houses dotting the landscape. The beaches were like the Bahamas in appearance, with a bow of pristine white sand and turquoise blue water, green cliffs on either side.
“You’ll sharp know you’re in Scotland and not the Bahamas when you swim in it,” Finn said. We parked and I stepped outside to take in the scene, wishing I’d brought a sketchpad. It had been a long, long time since I’d seen a view quite as incredible, and I felt moved by it. I wanted to absorb it, be in it. The girls all ran off to paddle, and before I knew what was happening Finn had cupped my face in his hands and was kissing me, a sensation at once startling and welcome, the closeness of him so natural that all the fear I’d had about men and love and relationships managed to subside, just for that moment.
“Can I come over tonight?” he said in a low voice. Then, when I flinched: “I’m not suggesting . . . I mean, just to spend time. I’m not wanting to rush anything . . .”
“I was just wondering whether you meant you had a babysitter,” I said.
“Well, that there’s a bit of a conundrum,” he said. “Seeing as we’re each other’s babysitters, in effect.”
“Bring Cassie. She fits right in with Luna and Clover.”
He kissed me again, and this time the girls caught sight of us from the shoreline and laughed, pointing and making “wooo” noises.
“Nothing like pre-adolescent girls to keep you humble,” Finn said.