Highland Fling - A Funny Chick Lit Romance (COMPLETE)

Black Market Skin Creams and Holding Back Opinions

 "...so we left the party and the crowd parted like the Red Sea because everyone, and I mean everyone, saw that post on Twitter. I swear I heard boos and hisses when I went by. I felt like a panto villain."

I finish off the story and Mhari nods. The pharmacy assistant and I are now friends. She's not a chemist herself, but thanks to years of detailed questioning of everyone who comes in, there's nothing she doesn't know about every medication known to (wo) man. I'm in for the second batch of super-strong anti-histamines. Dr McLatchie tells me I might find my system has built up an immunity to Mena by now so that I might no longer need the anti-histamines, particularly if I take lots of Vitamin C to support my immune function. (Can't wait to tell Katya she's right about the magic powers of Vitamin C). I'm not chancing it for the moment, and I hand over the script to Mhari who whips out the packet, telling me they ordered some in advance knowing I might need it.

There are advantages to living in the world's nosiest village. At least you don't have to wait for anything as the residents anticipate your every need.

"Well, it was a bit drastic," Mhari says. "Though, wish I'd been there tae see it."

The thing is, at the time I didn't mind my panto villain status. Whatever I felt about getting married, Ryan hadn't deserved that humiliation. Katya apologised repeatedly, saying she should have double, triple quadrupled checked it with me. But at the same time, the relief was overwhelming.

We left the party, having managed to rescue my mum from the clutches of an air-guitar playing 50-something dressed unwisely in leather jeans, we decided going back to my flat was a no-no, seeing as I'd just finished with the place's other mortgage payer. Katya's flat was too crowded, and Mum's house two miles away. Katya hit on the idea of treating ourselves to some cakes and biscuits from the supermarket and taking them down to the beach. I fired off a text to Ryan, apologising profusely, telling him how much he meant to me and I was sorry it had ended this way. His two-word reply told me forgiveness wasn't coming any time soon. Not surprising, really.

We found ourselves a peaceful spot away from the late night dog walkers and sat down on our coats. The water lapped the shore and Katya dished out equal shares of millionaire's shortbread, doughnuts and chocolate truffles.

She picked one up between thumb and forefinger and tapped it gently on the bit of shortbread I was holding. "To you! Sorry again."

"I'm newly single and ready to mingle," I replied, trying the words out for size. They were okay, 'single' wasn't a word I'd used for myself for years and now it emerged from my mouth without too much difficulty.

My mum nudged my shortbread with her doughnut. "Am I allowed to say how relieved I am? Sorry love. I thought you were too young to marry." We'd told her the whole sorry tale as we left the party and she'd gone from concern (oh dear, love, that was a bit naughty) to fury (Kayleigh?! Who's she?) to giddy delight.

Once Katya stopped apologising for her mistake, she threw in her opinion too. It must have killed her to hold back all those years on what she really thought about Ryan and my relationship with him. She made up for it. After fifteen minutes or so, Mum and I were starting to stiffen up with the cold and she showed no sign of letting up. (And then there was the time that douche-bag did...)

I got to my feet and gave Mum a hand up. "But I do have a lot to deal with. Seeing as my whole life has just fallen apart." Remarkable that even though this was true, all I felt was lightness. Perhaps the helium still floated around my system, making me feel as if I might lift off at any second.

Katya flapped a hand and said she'd think of something and my mum promised I could come back and live with her "if the worst comes to the very, absolute worst". Alright Mum, subtle hint received and understood, but as she was still trying to get rid of my older brother who'd decided home-cooked meals, laundered clothes and year-round central heating were worth the lack of privacy, I didn't blame her.