just fun, in, of, and for itself—not showing off, not spending a lot of money (it was five pounds for entrance and a pound a glass), not wearing clothes they couldn’t afford that would get returned in the morning, not queuing for hip restaurants in the rain only to be jostled into a tiny space in return for handing over vast amounts of money for bao. Yes, people were taking photos—but only snaps in which they were laughing, not making puffy-lipped pouts for Instagram, nor were they insisting on taking the same pic one hundred times. They didn’t have time for that; they were too busy having fun in the hazy, dripping golden light, with a drum, two fiddles, and a big double bass.
And then Jake approached, his shadow passing over the grass. He was wearing an open-necked white shirt made of heavy cotton and a pale green-and-gray kilt. Lissa wished more than anything else Kim-Ange were there; she would have fainted, she would have fainted clean away. Obviously it was just totally normal around here, but it was pretty hot stuff regardless.
“Stop there,” said Lissa, smiling and taking out her phone camera. “I want a pic. You look like you’re in Outlander.”
Jake smiled bashfully but, in fact, was pleased and secretly felt like cheering. He spotted the empty glass of elderflower wine by her side. He should probably warn her a bit about that.
“Okay,” said Lissa. “I’ll send it.”
“Don’t you want to be in it?” said Jake. “Hey, hi, Ginty, can you take a picture of us?”
Ginty scowled but stepped forward nonetheless. She wanted to take an unflattering picture of Lissa, but Lissa was so happy and, for once, carefree and utterly amazed at just how great she felt, she couldn’t stop grinning, and the sun shone through her light floral dress, and Jake leaned in and just ever so gently put his arm around her to touch her opposite elbow, ever so lightly, and he was grinning too, and Ginty could have hurled the camera back at the pair of them.
“Ooh!” said Lissa, and she sent it immediately to Kim-Ange.
“AW, LOOK AT this,” said Kim-Ange, who was hot and sweaty from all the dancing, and she passed her phone over to Cormac. She had absolutely no idea he’d never seen a picture of Lissa before. Taking pictures of everyone and everything was one of the cornerstones of Kim-Ange’s life.
He saw the shot and winced. He’d been right about the curly hair.
Well. Good for Jake. They looked incredibly happy.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen her,” he said.
Kim-Ange looked at him crossly. “You don’t follow her Insta? Although her Insta is very boring,” said Kim-Ange, whose Insta was not in the slightest bit boring.
“Ach, I don’t really go in for that stuff,” said Cormac shyly.
“You’re sleeping in her bed!”
“I know,” said Cormac, still staring. Her smile beamed. The screen faded to black on Kim-Ange’s phone and he handed it back, somewhat reluctantly.
He had kind of known what she looked like, from what Jake said. But from her missives, her slightly short, occasionally sarcastic emails, he’d been expecting someone a little . . . more uptight. The girl in the picture, she was radiant.
“She looks happy,” said Kim-Ange. “Good. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” said Cormac. “Good.”
And they tried to take one together to send back, but Kim-Ange wasn’t happy with the angle and insisted on nine more, and then Cormac got called away to pay the bar staff, and it never happened after all.
Chapter 46
Lissa fell, got up, danced, and still constantly felt she was absolutely fine because it was still light outside, even as everybody else started to drift off. She wanted to dance on and on. The relief of it all was quite something.
Finally, there was a massive circular “Auld Lang Syne,” and when the music stopped, you could feel, at last, the chill of the spring night come on them, and she found herself shivering. Jake immediately took one of the blankets off the hay bales and put it around her shoulders. She smiled at him gratefully.
“Thanks,” she said. She looked around. The previously shy teenagers were now snogging their heads off by the side of the barn. Cars had vanished from the fields, and the lowing of cows, disturbed by the recent noise, reached them across the distant fields.
“Walk you home?” said Jake, handing her a large glass of water that she downed in one.
“Oh, thanks,” she said. “I needed that.”
“Fierce stuff, the elderflower,” said Jake.
“Uh-huh,”