She had gotten almost as far as the surgery, then turned round and gone home again. Maybe tomorrow.

IONA FOR ONCE didn’t start gabbling, but came over and put her arms round her friend. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I honestly didn’t realize. I didn’t know you liked him so much.”

She poured two large measures of the medicinal whisky she’d found downstairs.

“I miss you,” she said simply.

“I miss you too,” said Isla. “If you’d been about, I probably wouldn’t have made such a fool of myself.”

“You haven’t made a fool of yourself! He’s a dickhead!”

In response, Isla pulled down the top of the pink dress, exposing a bright red bra strap, something she’d ordered specially from the mainland.

There was a moment’s silence, then both girls burst out laughing, Isla’s bordering slightly on hysteria.

“Oh lord,” said Iona. “Well, he’s missing out.”

“You’d have steered me clear, told me to leave him alone,” said Isla.

“No, I wouldn’t have,” said Iona. “I think he’s a ride. I’d have been even worse. You’d have been with him a million times by now.”

Isla let out a big sigh. “I really liked him,” she said. “What an idiot.”

“Why?” said Iona. “He looked really cut up about it.”

Isla sniffed. “Yeah, he’ll just have to get off with a million supermodels. Or that stupid journalist.”

“She is stupid,” said Iona, and refilled their glasses.

Isla glanced around Iona’s little bedroom, filled with Highland dancing trophies and old pony books. Not unlike hers in fact.

“He had no interest in involving me in his life at all. I was just a bit of fun.”

“Well,” said Iona defiantly. “We are going to have fun.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a flat coming up on the high street. I miss you, you miss me. We could rent it together.”

“Oh,” said Isla. “But I’d have to leave Mum.”

“You’re going to have to leave her sometime!” said Iona. “She was always trying to push you to university or something anyway. ‘Don’t you think you could do better, Isla?’” Iona made a passable stab at Vera’s voice. Isla sighed again.

“She means well.”

“But it makes you miserable.”

Isla shrugged. “It’s just not my day.”

“Don’t be daft. You’re famous and in the paper!”

“For being an idiot!”

“We’ll have fun, I promise. Come on. It’s Christmas, Loony Dook, Hogmanae, Burns Night, Valentine’s, and then it’ll be spring and all the tourists will be here, and you can enchant one of them to fall in love with you and he’ll stay forever and all will be well, because! We’ll have our own place and you won’t have to skulk about to get a lumber.”

Isla couldn’t help smiling at that. “You’re such an optimist.”

“That’s because we live on top of the world. Stay over?”

Iona was already pulling out the little trundle they’d used when they had sleepovers at eight and nine, talking excitedly about How to Train Your Dragon, and at thirteen, talking the same but about Justin Bieber and the fourth-year boys, and now, it was strangely incredibly comforting that here they were again, looking for the spare toothbrush, trying not to wake Iona’s mum, hushing each other, giggling, and to her great surprise, Isla slept.