44 Scotland Street: Chapter 35 of Alexander Mccall Smith’s epic series

when he got off the plane his clothes stank of cigarette smoke, even when he was sitting in the non-smoking section.”

“Shared air,” said Stuart. “When you’re on a plane you share the air.”

“We all share the air,” said Katie. “That’s why pollution is something for all of us to worry about. China pollutes the air with its endless factories and we all feel it.”

“We’re not entirely innocent ourselves,” Stuart pointed out.

“No, maybe not. But not everybody is equally guilty.”

Stuart asked about her father. “Does he do face-lifts – that sort of thing?”

She frowned. “He’s retired now. But no, he was really opposed to cosmetic surgery. You know, the vanity variety. He looked after people who had burns or things like that. People who had been smashed up in accidents.”

“I’m glad he didn’t do cosmetic surgery,”

“No,” said Stuart. “It’s spinach you need for strength. Look at Popeye.”

“Was Popeye happy, do you think?” It was such an odd question. Was he? He sang a bit, and he seemed to have a smile on his face in most of the drawings. And he had a reasonably good relationship with Olive Oyl, it seemed. Yes, Popeye was happy enough and probably didn’t want to be something other than what he was.

“I think Popeye was happy enough with his life,” Stuart said. “I always rather liked him. And I liked Olive too. I liked her long legs and the way she tied her hair in a bun.”

Katie agreed. “She was lovely. But a bit sad, I think. She seemed vulnerable, somehow.”

There was silence. Stuart looked at his hands. I am not all that strong, he said to himself. I’m weak, in fact. You don’t have if you know that poem, but it always gets to me. That bit about how Scotland’s rose smells sharp and sweet and … well, then he says it breaks the heart.”

Stuart said nothing. He listened. He could listen to her for hours, he thought. He loved what she said. It was so different from what Irene would say to him. He blushed. He was not disloyal by nature, and he did not want to compare, but this was so different. And imagine, he thought – just imagine living with this? With talk about roses and the breaking of the heart, and Popeye and Popeye’s sweetheart, Olive Oyl. Imagine.

Katie glanced at her watch. “You know, I’m really glad you came, Stuart. I’m really pleased.”

Stuart felt a wave of relief. He had not done the wrong thing. He had been worried about that, but he should not have been. This was the right thing to do – exactly the right thing.

“I’m really pleased,” Katie continued. “But I have to go out quite soon, I’m afraid. I agreed to babysit for my professor and his wife. His mother lives in Dundee and has had an operation. They’re going up there to get her out of Ninewells Hospital. One of their kids has got a cold and they don’t want her to give it to his grandmother just when she comes out of hospital.”

“Of course not.”

“But I wondered if you’d like to come to dinner next week?”

Stuart beamed. “I’d love that.” “Tuesday evening?”

“Yes. Yes. That’s fine.”

Katie rose to her feet and took Stuart’s mug. “I’d like you to meet George,” she said. “I know that he’s free on Tuesdays.” “George?” asked Stuart.

Two words to end a world. “My boyfriend.”