The Girl From Granton - An Edinburgh Love Story

He simply could not take his eyes off her. She was a picture of beauty, her golden hair resting neatly on her slim shoulders. He gently stroked her cheek and delicately touched her right ear. He desperately wanted to recreate the two magical days he had spent with her in Dundee a few weeks earlier. She fixed her brown eyes on his.

'Take yer hands oot ma f**kin' ears!' she said, forcefully.

He took his hand away but then tried to embrace her. He asked what was on her mind.

'Ah'll tell you, whit's oan ma mind. It's you.' He was touched, but his feelings of gladness didn't last.

'Yer a w*nker. An arse. And yer daein ma heid in'

He recoiled at the venom dripping from her lips. He only wanted to caress her, take her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her.

'Aye,' she bellowed. 'Ah ken whit yer after. Yer a pervy bas***d. Just 'cos ye made me a cup o' tea ye think ye can dae whit ye want. Well, ye can just p*ss off. Now!'

He picked up his jacket that had set him back £10 from Primark. He gave her a pitiful look and uttered quiet words - that he would just go if she wanted him to.

'Well, f**k off then' she spat.

He headed for the door and heard her final words as he closed the door behind him.

'Ye prick...'

To be continued...