Hours after it had left London, the train slowly pulled into Waverley Station. Fenny was almost disappointed to see the gloriously green countryside give way to the eerie darkness of the station. The ferocious games of poker, stupidly inane arguments and that one time Paul broke out into song hadn’t stopped the trip from London falling into a tired, bored lull. Gina had spent half the trip with her nose in a detective novel. Greg had taken Paul’s cards and played various games with them himself. Paul had produced a pen and paper from him bag and was drawing various people as dogs, gargoyles and other weird, deformed creatures. Fenny, however, had lost herself in the view. It was nothing short of spectacular and better than any dusty and smog-engulfed place in LA.

“I think the blood from my legs has settled in my arse,” Paul declared as he gingerly got to his feet.

“Want me to give it a massage?” Gina teased and surprised him by grabbing his butt.

“Hey!” Paul yelped. “There’s a time and a place, woman.”

“Yeah and that’s preferably not in front of us,” Fenny grumbled as she slid her backpack over her shoulder.

“I agree with the considerably bitter, angst-ridden, clandestinely sex-deprived madwoman,” Greg chided.

“Don’t be horrible,” Gina cussed and belted Greg’s arm.

“Stop fucking hitting me,” Greg scorned as they made their way onto the platform.

“Where are we staying?” Fenny asked, deciding to avoid any further conversation about her.

“The Roxburghe,” Paul replied.

“What? That’s miles away,” Greg gasped.

“It’s just down the street and around the corner,” Paul countered. “Besides, the festival is five minutes from there.”

“It’s not five minutes from here though,” Greg retorted.

“It’s close to the gallery as well,” Paul added with a smile.

“Fucking artists,” Greg mumbled as he led the way toward the exit.

“Fucking yanks,” Paul added and shook his head.

“You coming, Fenella?” Gina asked, amused by Fenny’s transfixed expression.

“Huh? Oh yeah…This place is architecturally amazing,” she gasped.

“It’s old, dank, and it leaks,” Gina sighed. “Come on.” She grabbed Fenny’s arm and dragged her toward the stairs. Halfway up they were greeted by a fierce, cold wind. Gina snuggled closer to Paul and Fenny snuggled closer to Gina.

“Welcome to Edinburgh,” Paul mused, giving Fenny a smile as they battled their way up to Princes Street.

“If this is summer I’d hate to feel winter,” Fenny declared.

“Actually, it’s quite a nice day,” Greg said nonchalantly as they stopped at the top of the stairs.

“Nice?” Fenny gasped.

“It’s sunny,” Gina shrugged.

“You’re serious about walking to the hotel?” Greg asked, looking at Paul dejectedly.

“Yeah, show Fen a bit of the town on the way,” Paul smiled. “We go this way now,” he declared, taking Gina’s hand and leading the way down Princes Street.

“So, what part of Edinburgh are we in?” Fenny asked, trying to hunt out her Lonely Planet Guide.

“This is Princes Street, the main street,” Paul replied.

“Wow,” Fenny said blankly, the old buildings making a pleasant change from modern skyscrapers.

“Hey look,” Gina perked, nudging Paul and pointing to a gothic looking building.

“Scot’s Monument,” Paul smiled. “Let’s not go there,” he added.

“It looks a bit freaky,” Fenny piped up. “Why can’t we go there?”

“Oh no, we can go there. I was talking about Paul’s sordid past,” Gina grinned.

“I’m sure Fenny isn’t interested,” Paul huffed.

“Are we talking McDermott in a kilt?” Greg chuckled.

Fenny cracked up laughing and Gina looked at Paul innocently. “You looked lovely,” she chided.

“Why do I feel I’m going to regret this entire holiday,” Paul sighed, shaking his head.

They were halfway down Princes Street when Fenny stopped and her mouth fell open. Paul, Greg and Gina looked in the direction she was.

“Oh, yeah that’s Edinburgh Castle,” Gina breathed, looking blankly at the foreboding-looking castle, perched high on a hill above the city.

“That is so cool,” Fenny smiled.

“Seen it,” Greg announced.

“Way too many times,” Paul added.

“You could be at least a little enthusiastic for me,” Fenny huffed.

“Oh my god, it’s Edinburgh Castle, Greg,” Paul perked excitedly.

“It’s like the highlight of my life, we must pay ludicrous amounts and go see it, Paul,” Greg replied, equally ecstatic.

“We’ll take photos right, so we can remember the moment for, like, ever,” Gina babbled.

Fenny turned and glared at her friends. “I hate all of you,” she huffed and walked on.

Brad rushed through Heathrow, nearly bowling over a little old lady who was pondering some perfume, and came to a stop only when he got into the short queue at the British Airways desk. He waited impatiently behind an obnoxious American tourist who wanted to know why there wasn’t an international airport in every major city. Brad had to quell the urge to denounce his own nationality until the man left and he hurried to the desk.

“Good afternoon sir, how can I help you?” smiled the woman at the desk.

“I want to get to Edinburgh,” Brad replied.

“Right,” she perked and looked at her computer monitor. “You’re in luck, a seat has just become available on the next flight.”

“Yes, someone does love me,” Brad grinned and pulled out his credit card.

“It leaves in 20 minutes from terminal 30,” smiled the woman as she dealt with his payment.

“That’s fine, great, wonderful, thank you, have a fabulous life,” Brad chirped as he departed the British Airways desk. It took him about three seconds to notice the terminal closest to him was terminal 3. He checked his watch, he had 18 minutes, and it was time to run. He took off in the direction of the moving floor and sprinted his way down that, yelling, “Out of the way,” “Sorry,” and “Coming through.” He stumbled off the end and noticed a map on the wall. Normal passengers would catch a bus to the terminal, but he didn’t have time. He took several deep breaths and continued sprinting through the endless corridors, across three roads, past a series of confused airport workers and one highly pissed off Jamaican man. He saw terminal 29 swim into view as his lungs felt like they’d give out. His temporary lapse in concentration caused him to trip over a discarded trolley and fly two metres into a chair. He gasped for breath and hauled himself into terminal 30, where he couldn’t speak as a concerned stewardess checked his boarding pass. He jogged into the plane and still was unable to speak as he looked for his seat, which he literally fell into and received curious looks from the surrounding passengers.

“Are you ok?” asked a middle-aged woman next to him.

“Yeah,” Brad panted. “Things we do for love, huh?” he added with an exhausted smile.

“This is it,” Paul perked as they stopped outside a grand Georgian building.

“It’s got a doorman,” Fenny gasped and received amused looks from the others.

“A kilted doorman,” Gina added.

“You two act like you’ve never been in a four star hotel before,” Greg chided.

“Hey, I hadn’t been on a train until this morning,” Fenny countered.

“Good afternoon,” the doorman said with a smile as they ascended the stairs.

“Afternoon mate,” Paul replied.

“All I can think of is Colin,” Fenny sniggered. “Him and his ach-aye-ing.”

Gina got the mental image and both women started giggling.

“I’m not asking,” Greg sighed as they entered the lobby.

“Behave,” Paul ordered with a bemused look in his face as he approached the reception desk.

“Good afternoon,” smiled a young man who turned to help him.

“Hello, I’m…”

“Paul McDermott,” the man announced, cutting him off.

“Not stalking me are you?” Paul asked.

“Ach no, just fan,” the man perked.

“Good man,” Paul said, slightly embarrassed. “There should be three rooms booked, one each under McDermott, Proops and Grey.”

“I’ll just check,” the man smiled and turned to his computer monitor. “Yes, rooms 75, 76 and 77.”

“Great,” Paul said, just hoping he’d hurry up with the keys. When the man turned back he passed the three room keys to Paul.

“Have a nice stay,” he chirped.

“Here’s hoping,” Paul replied with fake enthusiasm and returned to the others.

“We have rooms?” Greg asked.

“Of course, 75 for Fenella,” he passed Fenny her key, “76 for the Proop Dog and 77 for me and the wife.”

“Please tell me we are taking the elevator,” Greg half pleaded.

“Aw, the old man got worn out walking from that station,” Gina chided.

“I get worn out doing a crossword,” Greg declared.

“You don’t get worn out in bed,” Gina countered.

“Genie,” Paul groaned.

“It’s true though, not once did I hear him wheeze.”

“Can’t say I remember him needing oxygen either,” Fenny agreed.

“You two are sick,” Paul huffed as he sauntered into the elevator.

“Get a grip man, I can’t help it if all the women can’t resist me,” Greg jeered.

“Wait Gina, we better wait and leave room for Greg’s ego,” Fenny announced holding Gina back from entering the elevator.

Gina giggled and continued into the elevator as Greg narrowed his eyes at Fenny.

“What? We never said you were good, we said you didn’t wheeze,” she shrugged.

“She’s got you there mate,” Paul chided.

“Hey, you both came begging for more. So I must have done something right,” Greg sneered as the elevator doors opened on their floor.

“Yes, you put us on the path to better men,” Fenny jeered.

“Better men? The one with the illegitimate child and the original man child are better?” Greg laughed.

“I like my man child,” Gina huffed.

“Fuck you,” Fenny hissed and marched down the corridor to her room, opening the door hurriedly and slamming it shut.

“Good one Proops,” Paul muttered and led Gina down the corridor to their room.

“I hate this already,” Greg grumbled, heading to his own room.

Fenny dropped her bag on the floor and felt compelled to scream at the top of her lungs what a complete and utter bastard Greg Proops was, but considering her illustrious surroundings, she decided it wouldn’t be appropriate. Instead she decided to take a look around the room. It all looked very posh, and she felt almost scared to touch anything. She walked over to the window and looked out over Charlotte Square. She noted she’d have to go and take a closer look later – she might even take her sketchbook. What was she thinking, of course she’d take her sketchbook. Fenny walked back over to the queen sized bed and fell onto it. The whole thing was just perfect to get the romantic juices flowing. Unfortunately, she was missing the vital part: a man to share it with. Well not just a man, Brad to be exact. She closed her eyes and imagined him taking her in his arms. Fenny was reluctant to let the feeling go but it faded quickly as she once again was left feeling very alone.

“This is gorgeous,” Gina cooed as she took in the view.

“Yeah it is, I’ve stayed in a few hotels around here but this is certainly my favorite,” Paul agreed, joining Gina at the window.

“So, what have we got planned for tonight?” Gina smiled as she turned and wrapped her arms around Paul’s neck.

“Well, I um, I kinda have plans,” Paul replied sheepishly.

Gina’s smile fell and her hands slid down to fiddle with the front of his shirt. “You have plans.”

“Well, yeah. I mean I made them before I left Australia.”

“Oh.”

“You weren’t exactly in the picture then,” Paul mumbled. “That sounds worse than it should.”

“So, I’m what now? Interrupting your plans to party?” Gina huffed.

“It’s one night babe, then I’m yours,” he breathed.

“But it’s our first night here.”

“I know, don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”

“No dammit, I’m going to lay on a massive guilt trip,” she teased.

“It’ll only be a few hours,” he whined.

“No it won’t, you’ll get home at 6am, half deaf and too off your face to even make conversation,” Gina grumbled.

“So, you’re like that at 6am sober,” Paul chided and got a smile from Gina. “Besides, you and Fen haven’t had much time to hang out, I think she could do with a bit of whatever it is women do together.”

“Yeah, she’s going to be a barrel of laughs,” Gina sighed.

“If all else fails, spike her drink,” Paul mused.

Gina raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe you’re giving up sex for a boozy night with your mates.”

“Hey, there’s time before I go out,” Paul perked.

“Oh the romance,” Gina sighed and gently moved him aside to go and lie on the bed.

Greg pulled the comb through his hair, decided it was neat enough and pulled on his jacket. A drunken night out in Edinburgh was more than tempting and there was nothing more fun than a bunch of reminiscing drunken comedians. He stepped out of his room and locked the door before making his way to Paul’s room and giving a gentle rap on the door. It opened almost immediately and Gina gave him a disgruntled look.

“You’re going as well then?” she asked.

“Of course, someone has to keep Paul under control,” Greg replied.

“Keep me under control, you should see this man after a bottle and a half of bourbon,” Paul chided as he appeared at the door.

“I really don’t want to know,” Gina sighed.

“I promise not to get too drunk or stoned, but I can’t promise not to do anything stupid,” Paul said, giving Gina doe eyes.

She couldn’t help but break into a smile. “Don’t be out all night.”

“I’ll try,” Paul cooed and brushed his lips against hers. Greg took the liberty to look away, until both he and Paul were heading toward the elevator.

“She pissed at you?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Paul nodded.

After finally giving in to the fact that she wasn’t getting a nice night in with Paul, Gina tidied herself up, grabbed her bag and headed to Fenny’s room. Fenny opened the door, her eyes red and puffy.

“I’m hoping that’s hayfever,” Gina sighed.

“Not even close,” Fenny sniffed. “Did you want something?”

“Yes, you grumpy bitch, we’re going out,” Gina declared.

“Why?”

“Well Paul and Greg have gone for a drunken night out with friends.”

“I can see you’re thrilled about that.”

“Ecstatic. So I figure we might as well go and do something.”

Fenny let out a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right, why sit and mope huh?”

“Exactly, so turn that frown upside down and we’ll go,” Gina perked.

“I’d like to say it’s been so nice to see you again, I really would,” Fenny mused as she wandered into the bathroom.

It hadn’t taken more than an hour to get to Edinburgh by plane; the problem was Brad had no idea where to start looking. It would take him forever to go to every hotel and after looking over a pile of tourist maps, he decided that with all the attractions they could be anywhere. He decided to get something to eat and then maybe start calling a few hotels, perhaps he might run into one of them along the way. Then Brad wondered, what if he didn’t just run into one of them, what if he never found them. No, that prospect was too depressing to even consider. He was going to find Fenella Grey if it killed him, and he felt he wasn’t far from that after his mad dash at Heathrow.

Paul and Greg both stopped outside the small pub, amused looks on their faces.

“Flashbacks?” Greg asked.

“Yeah, fond memories of the back ally and the gutter,” Paul replied.

“It’s hard to believe not so long ago we used to do this every year.”

“I know. We were confused young men who spent more time drunk and high than sober. We did outrageous things that would make the comedians of today blush.”

“And now look at us, successful TV careers, movies and musicals.”

“Who would have thought, hey,” Paul breathed and looked at Greg.

“I think it’s time to go in,” Greg nodded.

They entered the pub and were instantly greeted by Phil Kay screaming, “About time you slack bastards,” before he leapt up, hugged them both and demanded drinks for them.

“Good evening Mr Proops, Mr McDermott,” Rich Hall smiled before taking a mouthful of whatever dark liquid it was he was drinking.

“Good evening Mr Hall,” Greg perked as he pulled up a seat.

“So what’s the plan for this evening, gentlemen?” Paul asked, taking a seat next to Adam Hills.

“Lots and lots of drinking. Drinking until every one of our livers stops working,” Adam replied.

“I give Fleety’s three rum and cokes,” Boothby Graffoe chuckled as Greg Fleet leaned back in his chair looking slightly offended.

“Where’s my drink,” Paul growled looking over at the barman.

“I ordered, you saw me,” Phil piped up.

“Go rip him to shreds with your wit, Paul. Go on, make the man cry,” Adam teased.

Paul giggled and then furrowed his brow and bared his teeth as the drinks were brought over. “Are you old enough to work in here?” he asked the young man who brought them over.

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“You don’t even look old enough to have pubic hair,” Paul continued.

The young man blushed slightly.

“You’ve heard the word ‘fuck’ before, haven’t you?” Greg asked, “You understand all its implications?”

“With that face?” Boothby chuckled, “He wouldn’t have a bloody clue.”

The young man looked like he just wanted to run and hide.

“Now son, if there’s anything we say during the course of the evening that you don’t understand, you just ask and we’ll explain them to you,” Paul said seriously.

“We’ll start with the word ‘fuck,’ shall we?” Fleety piped up.

“Young man, ‘fuck’ is when a man and a woman are loving each other very much…” Phil began.

“Be straight with the boy,” Rich interrupted. “Fucking is when you stick your co…”

“Pete, get back over here and ignore them,” the barman cussed.

“Ruin our fun,” Adam huffed as the young man scurried back behind the bar.

“And to think, he might have learned something,” Greg sighed.

“Well that movie was truly terrible,” Gina sighed as she and Fenny slid into a booth at a café they’d liked the look of on the way back to the hotel.

“You’re not wrong,” Fenny agreed. “I’m still trying to work out why she had to kill her sister.”

“Because she screwed her ex-husband,” Gina countered.

“She did?” Fenny said blankly.

“Yeah, no, hold on…. Maybe she didn’t,” Gina shrugged.

“Who cares, I want hot chocolate,” Fenny perked as a waitress appeared. They ordered, and several minutes later were presented with the two steaming mugs.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’ve been such a cranky cow?” Gina asked.

“Why do you think? I’m torn over Brad and there’s you and Paul all over each other like a rash.”

“Sorry, it’s not like us at all. We’re usually reserved in front of company. Well, Paul’s reserved in front of company,” Gina chided. “You’re not torn over Brad, you just want him.”

“But I shouldn’t want him.”

“Why?”

“Our relationship doesn’t work.”

“It does work, Fen, you just gotta work at it.”

“I’m so sick of hearing that, maybe I don’t have the energy to work at it anymore.”

“Don’t you think it’s worth it?”

“God knows. All I know is that my head if full of a man who’s miles away in Montana.” Fenny sighed, noticing Gina wasn’t paying attention. “Are you even listening to me?”

“I don’t think Brad’s so far away,” Gina smiled.

“Huh?”

Gina pointed to a far table and Fenny’s mouth fell open as she felt her heart start beating faster. He was there, right across the café, in walking, touching, holding, and kissing distance.

“What are you waiting for?” Gina asked.

“I can’t,” Fenny breathed.

“Fen, he’s followed you here, that’s like, extremely romantic,” Gina pressed.

Fenny toyed with her hot chocolate as she sunk back into her seat. Everything she’d been thinking about swam around in her head, Paul’s voice being the most prominent, when he’d told her to follow her heart and asked her what she would do if Brad should turn up.

“Fen, he’s leaving,” Gina scorned, bringing Fenny back to reality as they watched Brad walk out the door. “Well, go after him,” she ordered.

“Ok,” Fenny breathed, nervously slid out of the booth and hurried to the door. She flew out into the street and saw Brad a few metres in front of her. “SHERWOOD,” she yelled, and he stopped and turned around. Their eyes met almost instantly and she didn’t think twice about making her way over to him.

“Fenny,” he breathed, shocked that she’d found him before he’d found her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I’ve been hoping you might,” she said with a small smile. Brad gave her his classic wonky smile and she felt herself tingle.

“Can we go somewhere and talk. Like properly talk?” he asked.

“Fuck talking,” Fenny breathed as she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. He instantly kissed her back, his arms pulling her close to him, holding her as tightly as he could and lifting her off the ground.