The Three Gifts

The question flashed into Sue’s mind and surprised her: did she love Rory? His months-long silence could have canned the friendship even though he had chased down to Spain after her. And minded the cat. Yes, she owed him for that.

He sat down. “God, it’s a bleedin’ nightmare out there.”

“And you were expecting what? Saturday before Christmas: the top of Ben Nevis?”

“That is busy actually.”

“Och, you know what I mean.” Sue grabbed the menu. “What do you recommend here?”

“I need a drink. Do you want to split a bottle of wine?”

“Hm, last time you drank nearly the whole lot. If you recall.” Sue then herself recalled that he’d also paid for the whole lot, so she leant forward and half-whispered, “But I’ll help you out, celebrate Our Lord’s birthday.”

“And yours recently?” Rory cupped his none-too-well-shaven chin in cross-examination.

“You remembered that?”

“I knew...” Rory indicated glittering decorations. “It was about now. I bought you a present. I hope you don’t mind.” His frown lines deepened as he waited.

She had to grin. “Hell, no. Gimme.”

From his oh-so-familiar dark jacket Rory fumbled an envelope, slid it to Sue and gazed, on tenterhooks.

She ripped the envelope open, extracted a ticket, scanned it, double-took. “This is for the whole year? For me?”

“For you. And a guest. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.”

“No, but I mean to any of the exhibitions?”

“I believe so.”

“That’s cool.” Sue nodded. “That's better than wine.”

“Oh, come now –”

“No, really. It is.” She pocketed the gift and looked back at Rory. “You’re looking pretty grungy.”

“That’s good?”

“Aye, that's good.”

Rory picked up his chopsticks and drummed them on the table. “So, what else did you get?”

Sue felt that a spell had been broken. “For my birthday?” She paused. “Ali sent me an e-present.”

“A what?”

“An e-present. It’s a certificate for Amazon. She was like: you can get an art book or something.”

“Jeez, I didn't think she was so Web-savvy –” Rory broke off and looked past Sue. “Ah!”

A smiling Thai waiter appeared.

“Could we have the house white, please?”

“And the menu,” Sue added.

“Yes, and the menu.”

Sue tripped out into the night and pulled her coat closer. “Oops! I shouldn’t have had that final Singha.”

Rory smiled. “You’ve hardly had enough to sink a pedalo.” He propelled her round in the direction of Lothian Road. “Walk you to your bus, miss?”

“Aye, and thanks for the present.” She inclined against a light drizzle sparkling in the street lamps. “Hey, when’s your birthday? Isn’t it soon?”

“I don’t make a big deal of it. At my age, you know,” he quavered.

“It is, isn’t it? And I didn’t get you a thing.” Sue linked her arm through his.

“I’ll just have to see what I can think up.”