Love to Hate You by Anna Premoli

walk back into the living room. “We'll deal with business once we’re back in London”.
    What? So what the hell did we have to come all the way to this cold, godforsaken part of Scotland for? I shoot Ian a worried look, and see that he's obviously feeling the same way.
    â€œAnyway, I shall leave you young people to your own devices,” Beverly concludes, and before disappearing he gives me a look that very eloquently tells me he wants to leave the two lovebirds alone.
    Ian too has understood Beverly’s intentions, because he grabs my hand and leans towards me on the sofa. “You leave me here and you'll pay for it,” he whispers threateningly, with panic in his eyes. I’m almost tempted to stay and help him for a moment, but not quite enough to actually do it, unfortunately for him. I pull my hand away from his, stand up determinedly and lean over, pretending to kiss his cheek and whispering, “Next time, I'd suggest not threatening me. Try begging – that might work.”
    And I head off to my gloomy bedroom with a snigger.
    *
    I’m sitting on my own at the huge dining table, looking forward to my breakfast. The only things I can eat, though, are toast and butter. There’s also an omelette, which contains bacon, and some sausages and bacon. There are muffins too – savoury ones, with ham instead of the usual blueberries. What a shame, I could have murdered a boiled egg.
    I’m so immersed in my thoughts that I don't hear Ian sneaking into the room. He touches my shoulder in greeting, and I jump in surprise.
    â€œHey, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, sitting next to me.
    â€œI was miles away,” I say, noticing his tired face. “Didn’t you sleep well?” I ask him.
    â€œYou might say that—” he confirms while stretching.
    â€œStrange, I thought you'd have had company,” I tease him.
    â€œOh, please. And for the record, that business last night is going to cost you,” he says, helping himself to some omelette.
    I give him an innocent look. “What do you mean? I don’t understand—”
    â€œCome off it, I only just managed to get rid of her. And I was terrified she was going to turn up in my bed. There's no lock on my door, obviously, so I had to spend all night with one eye open. It wasn’t very restful,” he complains, shivering at the idea of unwanted guests under the covers.
    â€œOh, come on – what’s a sleepless night for someone like you—”
    He gives me an exasperated look, then glances over at my half-empty plate.
    â€œWill you tell me why you haven't eaten anything since we arrived?” he asks seriously.
    â€œBecause I’m vegetarian, and all anyone talks about here is hunting, and all they eat is meat,” I answer in annoyance.
    â€œOh—” he says in surprise, “I didn’t know.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault – perspicacity's not exactly a strongpoint with you males
.
”
    We have our breakfast quietly and are chatting about how pleasant the Scottish countryside is when my phone suddenly rings.
    I pull it out of my pocket and see that it’s Vera calling.
    â€œHello dear,” I greet her, “how’s it going in town?”
    â€œWhere did you say you were?” she asks, nervously.
    â€œSomewhere in Scotland. Why?”
    â€œI don't suppose you've seen today's
Sun
, then?” she asks.
    â€œErrm, no, I haven’t. You know I never read the tabloids,” I remind her. I thought everyone knew I only read the FT.
    â€œThen you’re lucky that we do,” says Vera.
    Starting to get annoyed, I put down the piece of toast I’m eating. “Vera, I'd love to spend all day swapping chit-chat with you, but would you mind getting to the point—”.
    â€œIt's the gossip page! There are pictures! Of
you
!” she exclaims.
    Yeah, right.
    â€œAre you still tipsy from last