‘Want a drink?’ Bethan asks hopefully.
I hate saying no to her, especially as my repeated prioritising of Ash over our friendship was partly what drove a wedge between us, but I’ve come here to find answers that I won’t get if I’m deep into a bottle of Prosecco.
‘Another time? I really need to go and see Celyn.’
I drive up to the cabin, hoping that the summer tyres on my little electric car will be able to handle the perpetually muddy farm track. I feel as though half a dozen birds have taken up residence in my stomach. If Celyn’s not here, my next point of contact is Philippa Berkeley. Will she tell me anything? Will she even answer the door?
The sight of smoke trailing from the chimney is a welcome one.
Catrin and I have to manage a hug around a rather large bump – she’s eight months pregnant.
‘Can you believe the size of this monster?’ she asks as she ushers me inside. ‘That’ll teach me for marrying a giant.’
I’m taken aback at the sight of the Lisbon sofa in canary yellow and the peach-iced-tea brown armchair. I hadn’t realised that Ash had placed the order before I left. I bet he regretted it.
‘Oh,helô!’ Celyn says with surprise, coming out of the kitchen, where he seems to be cooking up a storm. He still has a big black beard and he has to duck under the door frame so he doesn’t bang his head.
‘Hi. I’m sorry to drop in unannounced, but—’
‘You’re looking for Ash.’
His eyes are kind, knowing. I nod.
‘I wish I could tell you how to get in touch with him.’
All of the birds in my stomach drop to the ground.
‘We only see Ash when Ash wants to be seen. And I’m afraid that isn’t often,’ he says.
‘He doesn’t have a phone?’
‘Not as far as I know. Not that it would do us much good anyway. We still need to put in a landline.’
‘Like, yesterday,’ Catrin says, rolling her eyes at me. ‘Come and sit down.’ She pats the yellow sofa.
‘Do you have any idea where he is?’ I ask as I perch.
‘He bought a piece of land in Powys, near the border, but I don’t have an address. He hasn’t invited any of us down there.’
‘What happened? Who owns this cabin now?’ I look around the interior. Ash’s books about space have beenremoved from the bookshelves, but the old brass telescope still sits by the window.
‘Ash does. He sold the house and gardens to the National Trust, but retained the workshops, cottages and land. Wanted to make sure none of it could ever be sold off to developers.’
I am feelingsomany things.
‘Why have you come back now?’ Catrin asks.
‘I just found out about the acquisition. I thought he’d married Beca,’ I admit.
Celyn frowns and shakes his head. Then he seems to realise something. ‘Oh. Did you see the newspaper article?’
‘I saw something about their engagement online.’
‘The story was planted by his father, according to Ash, though he never admitted to it. I think he thought that if he wanted it to happen enough, it would. But his plan backfired.’
‘How?’
‘Ash left. Just got on his bike and went to Europe. We didn’t see him for months.’
