2016

I took a swig from my bottle of beer and stood back, admiring my creation. Considering the closest I'd ever got to constructing a pillow fort in the past was throwing a bedsheet over a swing frame as a kid, I was really quite impressed with myself. I also now mostly understood how Pinterest worked.

It was mid-afternoon the following day, and I could already hear the wind whipping itself up into a rage outside. In February in Scotland the sun would still set pretty early, but the sky was already far gloomier than usual, and it looked like the rain was starting to pelt down too.

Isn't it funny, I mused to myself as I glanced through the window, that the weather forecast is almost always accurate when it comes to predicting the awful weather, but terrible at guaranteeing a sunny day in the summer?

Did I say funny? Sorry - I meant really fucking annoying.

I heard a door slamming, footsteps walking along the corridor. It had to be Iona; I knew she'd been meeting Alice for lunch. I hoped she wasn't freaking out too much about the storm. If it sounded bad later, I'd decided, I would check on her. My eyes drifted back to the pillow fort I'd spent half the day making, wondering if I'd even have the guts to make her aware of its existence, when push came to shove.

I was so nervous.

I decided to distract myself with some work in the meantime, pulling my laptop out and settling down on my bed. But the noise outside was proving a constant distraction, and the thoughts whirling through my brain at way over the legal speed limit weren't helping either.

Then I spotted a flash of lightning, followed by the rumble of thunder several seconds later. And, less than a minute after the thunder ended, everything went black.

Fuck.

Even though I'd anticipated a power cut, it still wasn't the ideal situation. Hopefully everything would be up and running again by the next day to allow the hotel renovations to continue on schedule. In the meantime, there wasn't much I could do about it.

Apart from go through with my plan to make sure Iona was okay, of course.

I took a deep breath, and got to my feet, switching on one of the torches I'd left next to my bed just in case. I tugged a hoodie on over the white t-shirt and PJ bottoms I was already wearing, and glanced at my dimly lit reflection in the mirror, wincing at what looked back at me.

My hair was a bit of a mess, and not in a messy-on-purpose sort of way. I'd also not bothered with my contacts today as my eyes had felt dry, and I hadn't been planning on going outside anyway; I vainly wondered if I should put them in now, but then I thought "fuck it". What was that saying again? If she couldn't handle me at my worst, then she didn't deserve me at my best? I couldn't help but laugh at myself.

Right. Let's do this.

Despite the fact I was a product of an extremely lapsed Catholic family, who had only ever made the occasional token visit to mass, I still sent a quick prayer heaven-wards, just for extra insurance purposes. Please don't let me make a complete fool of myself, God. I needed all the help I could get.

Taking another deep breath, my heart pounding, I let myself quietly out into the dark corridor. The rain was lashing down now, the wind blowing a hoolie, and I was very aware of the fact that Iona and I were the only people here. Hoping she was okay, I raised my hand and knocked sharply on her door.

I couldn't hear any noise from inside. After about fifteen seconds I was about to knock again, when the door unexpectedly flew open and Iona leapt out into the corridor, brandishing an almost full wine bottle as a weapon. I jumped back in shock, nearly dropping my torch.

"Fuck! You nearly gave me a heart attack, Iona." I placed my hand over my already frantic heart, feeling it beat even faster.

She lowered the bottle, an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry. I couldn't take the chance in case it was a serial killer."

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I know you were never the biggest fan of storms; thought I'd better check on you."

Surprise passed over her features. She seemed shocked that I remembered this. "I've just been hiding under my covers and trying not to cry, but no big deal," she shrugged. I saw right through her bravado.

"I'm not trying to be sleazy here," I began, immediately wanting to beat myself up. Why would you say that? Now she's going to think you are trying to be sleazy, you fucking moron! I forced myself to continue. "But if you want some company, you can hang out in my room if you want?"

"You mean that?" She asked, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. She jumped as another flash of lightning lit up the corridor, and I knew then I was doing the right thing.

I nodded. "I've got something in there that I think might help." I winced. Why the hell did that sound like an euphemism? When she giggled, I realised I'd voiced that thought out loud. Fuck. I scrubbed a hand across my face, shaking my head again. "Will you join me?" I indicated her wine bottle. "You can bring your 'weapon', if that makes you feel safer."

It was her turn to take a deep breath. "Okay," she agreed, following me to my room. But she stopped short as soon as she entered, staring at the pillow fort, her mouth falling open.

"W-what is this?" She asked hesitantly. She glanced over at me and I found I couldn't look at her. Was I being the world's biggest idiot here?

"I just . . . I knew you were here alone and that the storm was coming so I thought I'd have one ready just in case," I mumbled in explanation, feeling my cheeks start to heat up.

"I can't believe you remembered," she whispered, her gaze fastening onto mine. The way she was looking at me in that moment suddenly made all the effort absolutely worth it.

"I remember everything," I couldn't help but admit.

Alcohol. That might help. I'd grabbed a bottle of whisky from my collection earlier. I encouraged her to get comfortable in the fort, gave her a fleecy blanket to wrap around herself, and poured us both a dram of Tamnavulin.

I'd made sure to give her space when I sat down myself; I didn't want to crowd her. Yet I'd never wanted to just throw myself on her more. All wrapped up cosily in her fluffy dressing gown and wearing another crazy pair of pyjamas, she was barely showing any skin whatsoever, but she was driving me absolutely crazy all the same. When she tilted her head back to swallow her drink, I longed to brush my mouth across her neck, to feel her pulse quickening against my lips.

Conversation was stilted though. We had been getting on so much better recently, of course, but being alone in the dark like this, both aware of the growing feelings between us. . . I think it made us both feel a bit awkward.

"Remember how we used to be able to talk about anything?" I asked eventually, unable to stifle a wistful sigh.

She nods. "It was so easy."

"When did it get so difficult?" I raised my eyes to meet hers.

She shrugged. "We grew up? We grew apart? These things happen."

The words stabbed repeatedly at my heart. I clutched my glass tightly. "I didn't think it would happen to us." I could barely hear my own voice.

After another silence stretched out, I knew I needed to take further action.

"Okay, how about this?" I raked a hand through my hair. "I'll tell you something real, if you do the same."

"What do you mean?" She looked confused.

"Just tell me . . . Something. Anything. From any point in your life. As long as it's honest. Just . . . Listen, I'll start."

I closed my eyes briefly. Took a deep breath.

And then I finally began to tell the truth.

Fun fact: while I was writing the original "No Reservations", I was trying desperately to work out how I wanted the big romantic truth-telling scene to go, and I couldn't think of the perfect setting for it. Then just the weekend before, we'd booked a last-minute overnight stay in a hotel room on a barge, moored in the harbour of a village in Argyll & Bute.

In the early hours of the next morning, we were jolted awake by a massive thunderstorm, and realised the power had gone out. Obviously, it didn't really matter - it was the middle of the night, after all, so we just went back to sleep. But that started to plant the seed of this idea in my head and, despite the fact I don't like thunderstorms either, I'm quite glad it happened to provide me with the relevant inspiration!

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