Now, she was right in front of him. So much hard work had brought him to this moment, he almost couldn’t bear for it to end. Until he looked in the mirror. Hung on the end wall of the bedroom, opposite the window, it reflected Angela’s pretty head on her pillow, and the man looming over her. While her hair was gleaming and vibrant, his harshly shaven mat was greying prematurely, thinning more than anyone in their late thirties should have to tolerate. His eyes were pale in the scant light that entered from a streetlamp beyond the curtains, but he could still make out their watery blue, surrounded by creases of red on white. But it was his skin that told the real story. A greener shade of white. Waxy, sallow, wanting.

Fergus Ariss was dying.

However long he had left, there was insufficient time to achieve everything. He’d dreamed of travelling. In his twenties, he’d had a world map on his wall. The idea was to scratch off a section of chalky paint every time he took a trip. A school visit to France had offered one country beyond the United Kingdom’s borders, then came a friend’s stag weekend in Amsterdam. He’d always wanted to go to the USA. To explore Peru. The Great Wall of China was his ultimate goal. Now, he had to fulfil all of his dying wishes in Scotland. Even the borders were too far to cross at this stage.

His body had betrayed him. There was nothing the doctors could do, in spite of their protestations that he should let them assist. He could smell the rot of his own body. No herb or spice could mask the taste of death in his mouth. There was pain and grief, then there were moments of clarity when he understood that death would be a release. Months of hospital treatment weren’t the answer. Prolonging life regardless of the quality of that time was nothing more than fading away. He didn’t want to fade any more than he already had. He wanted to blaze a trail into the next life. But there was so little time, and so much left to do. Starting with Angela.

After creeping around the end of the bed and slipping off his shoes, he slid his body weight gently onto the mattress. A smile flitted across Angela’s face as his body joined hers. He fitted behind her like a puzzle piece, and she murmured as he slid his arm over her waist, pushing his face gently into her neck and breathing the scent of her shampoo. She was so warm in his arms. So soft. Destined for him.