Betty returned a few moments later and set about pouring them all cups of tea. Greg refrained from screwing up his nose and heaped several spoonfuls of sugar into his to make it slightly worthwhile.

“So,” Betty smiled as she got herself comfortable again. “Ye twa are married?” she asked, looking and Gina and Paul.

“Yes, somehow,” Gina replied.

“How long?”

Gina and Paul looked at each other. “On and off four years-ish,” Paul mused.

“Was it a nice wedding?”

“Apart from Paul’s mother having a coronary because I wasn’t Catholic and my mother yelling at the caterers, it was,” Gina perked.

“And the sprinklers going off in the park,” Paul added with a wry smile.

Betty gave them a broad smile and looked at Greg. “And yer married?”

“That’s right,” Greg nodded.

“Ye no miss yer wife?” Betty asked.

“All the time Betty, but such is the life of a comedian,” Greg sighed.

“Well, absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Betty chided and turned to Brad and Fenny. “So, have you twa got any plans tae get married?”

“Not really,” Fenny shrugged. “We were engaged once.”

“I’ll never understand young people,” Betty sighed. “All this flittering aboot. When you’re clearly in love, ye might as well jist get married. That’s why marriage does nae work anymore. Too much flittering about.”

“Are you married?” Gina piped up.

“Aye, I was. Ma husband, Bruce, passed away last year,” Betty nodded.

“Sorry,” they all said at once.

“Now ye see, Bruce, he worked on his folks’ farm. I met him by chance in town, he walked straight up to me and said, ‘I’m going te marry ye.’ That was April. We were married in June and were together for 43 years.”

“You ever have one of those ‘there’s a message in there somewhere’ moments?” Brad mused. There was an eruption of small sniggers from the others.

“No wonder ye lot are in so much trouble,” Betty sighed, finished her tea and got to her feet. “I’m sorry I don’t have a television, but ye can go sit in the other room where it’s warmer.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Greg breathed as he got to his feet.

“We’ll do the dishes if you like,” Gina piped up as she wandered over to Fenny.

“Oh no, yer the guests,” Betty gasped.

“Really, it’s no problem,” Fenny agreed.

“See, this is how it’s supposed to be, the men retire to the living room, while the women do the dishes,” Paul declared.

“You bloody chauvinist,” Fenny scorned.

“In my day, the men would be outside shoveling coal,” Betty chimed in as she led the way out of the room.

“Thank god we can just buy it in bags now,” Greg perked.

“You and your morals,” Fenny huffed as she hunted out a pair of pink rubber gloves.

“What? She’s a dear old thing and the least we can do is the dishes,” Gina scorned as she grabbed the tea towel from its hook.

“I agree, but she appears to have used every pot, pan, plate and cup in the house,” Fenny sighed as she squeezed the lemon scented washing up liquid into the sink.

“Ah, quit your whining,” Gina mused as she located a small radio. “Look, we can have some music.” She switched it on and fiddled with the knobs. It crackled to life and Gina set it down on the counter. Fenny grabbed a blue plastic scrubbing brush and began to scrub the plates. She started to tap her feet and nod her head and couldn’t help but sing along.

“Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’

Birds singing in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me”

Gina giggled and sang the next verse

“Say ‘nighty-night’ and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me

While I’m alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me”

Fenny stopped scrubbing and began using the scrubbing brush as a microphone.

“Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

I’m longing to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this”

Gina grabbed Fenny by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.

“Sweet dreams till sun beams find you

Sweet dreams that leave your worries behind you

But in your dreams, whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me”

Fenny and Gina began to dance, backs together, Fenny still with the scrubbing brush and Gina twisting her tea towel. They sang the next bit together.

“Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

I’m longing to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this”

They turned to face each other again, still singing together and doing their best pop stars impression.

“Sweet dreams till sun beams find you

Sweet dreams that leave your worries far behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me”

They burst into giggles and were greeted by a round of applause. They jumped a mile and noticed Betty, Paul, Brad and Greg standing at the door grinning inanely.

“How long have you been standing there?” Fenny gasped.

“Longer than you know,” Greg said wryly.

“Nice scrubbing brush work,” Paul smirked.

“You’ve both definitely improved,” Brad chided.

“That saddest thing about this is, it’s not the first time I’ve been sprung singing loudly and publicly in Scotland,” Gina mumbled, twisting her tea towel even more.

“This is clearly the most embarrassing moment in my life,” Fenny breathed.

“Ye sounded lovely,” Betty perked.

“God no, they’re the singers,” Gina declared and motioned to Paul and Brad.

“Are they really?” Betty chirped. “Let’s hear yeas then.”

Brad and Paul looked at each other. “Let’s wait until the girls have finished the dishes,” Brad announced.

“Hurry up you two, I have to see this,” Greg smiled as he followed the others back into the sitting room.

Fifteen minutes later, Fenny and Gina reappeared and were more than happy to soak up the warmth of the sitting room. A small lamp and roaring fire gave it a homely glow and the aroma of whiskey was pungent.

“You can’t go one night without booze, can you?” Gina sighed as she sunk onto the couch next to Paul. Brad hopped up and let Fenny take his seat next to Paul and sat himself on a piano stool. Greg was in an armchair looking very much at home and Betty was enjoying her glass of whiskey in another armchair.

“Is it tuned?” Brad asked.

“Och no, hasn’t been tuned in years,” Betty mused.

“So, who’s singing first?” Gina asked, looking at Paul.

“Brad’s in the performance area,” Paul replied quickly.

“Thanks,” Brad sneered and looked at the piano and then the ceiling and then a wry smile spread across his face.

“It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday

We’re all worn out for the night

There’s an old lady sitting across from me

Being far too damn polite”

Brad smiled at Betty and she gave an embarrassed giggle.

“She’s says ‘Hon can you sing something?’

I’m not quite sure what to do

But it’s improvised, funny and original

And it’ll probably amuse all of you”

Lalaladededa laladededada

Paul was fighting giggles as Brad went into the chorus.

“Sing us a song you’re the funny man

Sing us a song tonight

Well we’re stuck in bonny Scotland

Besides when did anything ever go right?”

Brad looked over at Greg, who raised his eyebrows and looked coy.

“Now Greg over there is a friend of mine

He gets me my drinks for free

And he’s quick with a joke, or to light up your smoke

But there’s someplace he’d rather be”

“That’s true,” Greg agreed.

“He says ‘Brad what the hell are you doing?’

As he looked at me like I was mad

‘Well I’m sure I could be a movie star

But this is the best gig I’ve had”

Oh lalaladededa lalededadada

Brad turned his attention to the couch, where Paul was still trying not to laugh.

“Now Paul is a cabaret singer

Who somehow ended up with a wife

And her name is Genie she’s a bit of a meanie

And sure as hell will be for life”

Paul cracked up, as did Gina, Fenny was trying hard not to cringe as he looked at her.

“And Fenny is a struggling artist

She’s the woman I truly adore

Yes, we’re sharing the same emotional scars

But is better than renting a whore”

Everybody lost it and Brad had to sing the chorus half-laughing.

“Sing us a song you’re the funnyman

Sing us a song tonight

Well we’re stuck in bonny Scotland

Besides when did anything ever go right?”

The laughter died down as Brad started on the last verse.

“We’re a pretty mad bunch for a Sunday

And the old lady gives me a smile

‘Cause she knows it’s us, who missed the bus

And ended up here for a while

And my voice sounds out of practice

And Paul smells like a beer

And we sit in this house, not meaning to grouse

But say ‘Man, what the hell we doin’ here?”

Everyone joined in the next bit and then stole the last chorus as Brad cracked up laughing at them all booming out his words.

“Oh lalaladededa laladedadada

Sing us a song you’re the funnyman

Sing us a song tonight

Well we’re stuck in bonny Scotland

Besides when did anything ever go right?”

“That was hysterical,” Gina giggled, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Oh man, take bow,” Paul beamed and Brad jumped to his feet and took a graceful bow.

“I’d like to see Brady do that,” Greg chided.

“You make Billy Joel look pissweak,” Paul nodded.

“Ye’ve got a lovely voice,” Betty cooed, helping herself to another whiskey.

Brad hopped up from the piano stool and wandered back over to the couch, Fenny stood up and let him sit down before she sat in his lap.

“That was brilliant,” she mused as she cuddled up as close to him as she could.

“Come on McDermott, your go,” Brad declared.

“I only know dirty songs,” Paul mumbled.

“No you don’t,” Gina chided as Paul got to his feet and sauntered into the middle of the room. Everyone hushed as Paul clasped his hands together and focused his attention on a picture on the wall.

“I will come for you at night time

I will raise you from your sleep

I will kiss you in four places

I’ll go running along your street

I will squeeze the life out of you

You will make me laugh and make me cry

We will never forget it

You will make me call your name and I’ll shout it to the blue summer sky

We may never meet again

So shed your skin and let’s get started

And you will throw your arms around me”

“Is this the only song he knows?” Greg mumbled refilling his glass.

“I dreamed of you at night time

And I watched you in your sleep

I met you in high places

I touched your head and touched your feet

So if you disappear out of view

You know, I will never say goodbye

Though I try to forget it

You will make me call your name and I’ll shout it to the blue summer sky

Fenny caught sight of Betty who appeared to be looking on like an excited grandmother should, her eyes brimming with tears.

“We may never meet again

So shed your skin and lets get started

And you will throw your arms around me

Yeah you will throw you arms around me

Yeah you will throw you arms around me

Yeah you will throw you arms around me”

Paul finished the last note softly and was greeted by a round of applause.

“Beautiful,” Betty sniffed. “Just beautiful.”

“At least mine was creative,” Brad huffed.

“I’ve got creative songs, I just don’t think Betty would want to hear them,” Paul chided.

“Aye, well on that note I think I’ll turn in. Ye are welcome to stay up as long as ye like,” Betty smiled as she got to her feet.

“That’s ok Betty, I think we all need an early night,” Gina cooed.

“I think Betty was a bit tipsy,” mused Fenny as she slid into bed next to Brad.

“Tipsy, she’d had three whiskeys before you guys finished the dishes,” Brad laughed.

“Jesus,” Fenny giggled, snuggling as close to Brad as she could, her hand resting on his chest. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm.

“You know, I think Paul and Gina’s wedding would have been a laugh,” he said bemused.

“It sounds like it. According to Gina, the sprinklers made her dress see-through.”

“Even better.”

“Brad!”

“I’m kidding,” Brad chuckled and planted a soft kiss on Fenny’s forehead. “Do you ever think about, well, if we’d…”

“Married?”

“Yeah.”

“Only once,” Fenny breathed. “It wasn’t long after I moved back in with mom and dad. I was passing a church and a happy couple were floating out, her in her long white dress and him in a tux. They looked so besotted and happy and I realised I was jealous. Then I just wanted to shove her bouquet up her ass.”

Brad laughed and then fell quiet. “Fen, would you, I mean…Would you still like to get married?”

“To you?”

“Well, I was hoping so, but hey, if there’s someone else.”

“Are you proposing?” Fenny breathed and sat up.

“Well I guess I…”

Brad was interrupted by the clatter of the window opening. Fenny just about jumped into his arms and he nearly fell out of the bed.

“That window just opened by itself, right?” Fenny peeped.

“Gust of wind,” Brad swallowed as he slid out of bed and padded across the room and closed it again. He slid back into bed and Fenny snuggled closer again, more scared than loving.

“You do realise there’s not a breath of wind outside,” Fenny mumbled.

“Freak gust,” Brad replied and started stroking Fenny’s thigh. She tilted her head up to bring her lips to his. Their hands started to roam each other’s bodies, their legs entwined and their previous conversation abandoned. There was a loud bang and Fenny dug her nails into Brad who yelped.

“That fucking window,” Fenny panted.

“I have a feeling maybe we should just sleep tonight,” Brad gasped.

“I like Betty,” Paul mused as he slung his jeans over a chair.

“That’s because you have a fetish for little old ladies,” Gina teased as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Margaret promised she’d never tell,” Paul wailed, doe eyed.

“She didn’t, I found the video,” Gina chided.

Paul laughed, “Thankyou for totally killing my libido.”

“So there is a way,” Gina cooed as she caught him in a kiss and dragged him to the bed. They got beneath the sheets and snuggled together.

“So, you think our horny ghost is going to be about?” Gina asked.

“I’m sure we’re bound to find out,” Paul replied and nuzzled into her neck.

Gina began to drift off easily. Paul, however, couldn’t relax. Maybe it was the whiskey? Maybe it was just paranoia? He opened his eyes and scanned the room, concluded it was paranoia and closed his eyes again. Then he heard it, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he heard it.

“Genie,” he whispered.

“Mmm.”

“Genie.”

“What?”

“Can you hear that?”

“What? You?”

“No, the…The noise.”

“I can hear you.”

“No, look…No listen.” Paul stayed quiet for a few moments.

“I can’t hear anything,” Gina breathed.

“You must hear it.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t hear anything. Now, shut up and sleep.”

Paul knew he was permanently agitated in general, but he could definitely hear something. He sat up trying to listen better; it sounded like, like sniffing.

“Genie,” he peeped.

“What?” Gina groaned rolling onto her back.

“I can hear sniffling, crying,” Paul said in a hushed voice.

“That’s nice, really.” Gina breathed.

“But…”

Gina started to giggle and Paul switched on the light.

“What?” he huffed.

“I can’t believe you’re scared,” Gina mused.

“I’m not scared.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m paranoid – there’s a difference.”

“Turn the light off, lie back down and ignore it,” Gina breathed.

Paul scanned the room again, switched off the light and lay down. He wrapped his entire body around hers.

Gina cracked up laughing. “You big wuss.”

“I’m sorry, I have a fear of possible axe wielding, pissed off ectoplasm,” Paul grumbled.

“Didn’t you hear the old woman. The spirit is of a young man who killed himself because of a broken heart. He’s jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, because his proposal was rejected, yours wasn’t.”

“So you’re telling me he’s cracking a hissy fit?”

“Uh huh.”

Paul relaxed, much to Gina’s relief

“I love you.”

“You too,” Gina cooed.

“What?” Paul breathed.

“You said you loved me?”

“No I didn’t.”

Gina turned over. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not, I was drifting off to sleep, babe.”

“But I heard you say it.”

“I didn’t say it,” Paul exclaimed, “I mean, granted I do love you, but I never said it then.”

“Oh,” Gina breathed, holding onto Paul just a bit tighter. “You sure?”

“I think I’d remember something like that.”

“Right.”

They fell silent for a few moments.

“Genie.”

“Yeah.”

“It was me,” Paul sniggered.

“You bastard,” Gina scorned and elbowed him.

Paul still giggled. “Had you going though, didn’t I?’

“I hope that ghost is axe wielding,” Gina muttered.

Greg placed his glasses on the bedside table, switched off the light and sunk into the bed. Well, if the old lady was right about that ghost, he shouldn’t have a problem. He wasn’t about to be cavorting in front of it. Greg rolled onto his back and stared up at the shadows on the ceiling. It hadn’t been a bad evening. Sure he was irked about missing his gig, but shit happens. Brad’s song had been one of the funniest things he’d heard in a while, but what stuck in his mind the most was something he wished wouldn’t: Gina. He’d been convinced he was over her, but for some reason she was back in his head. Of course, she was very much a different woman and there was no way she’d do a thing to hurt Paul again. He himself was more than ecstatic to be back with his wife. Even if it meant deep therapy. So why, why was every lust-filled moment with Gina playing and replaying in his head like a bad film? Greg felt compelled to ring his therapist: “Judy hi, it’s Greg…Just a small point you’ve forgotten to cover. What do you do when the woman who you believe is your soul mate just happens to be caught in some manic adventure through the Scottish Highlands with you and all you can think of when you look at her is that time when you covered her naked body in kisses and she cried that she loved you?” Greg let out a frustrated grunt and turned on his side, trying to coax himself to sleep. He felt his body grow heavy, and his mind go blank, when there was a sudden loud bang. He squinted through the dark and realised he could see the faint light of the hallway.

“Fuck you,” he huffed. He wasn’t getting out of bed to play guinea pig to some fucked up entity.