Page 61 of Winter Magic at Hollybrae Castle

‘Oh, Dand knows all right.’ Ollie glances at me with a raised eyebrow, already knowing who I’m talking about without me mentioning Orla’s name. ‘He just doesn’t want to upset her by letting her know he knows. It’s not like they’re going to divorce so he turns a blind eye. He says she deserves the attention and he hasn’t got time to give it to her.’

‘That’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard. When they first fell in love, they could never have expected their marriages to turn out like this…’

It’s bothering me so much because I like these people. The wives, the husbands, the children. They all deserve better than what they currently have, and it’s all because of a job that Ollie’s going to get too. ‘I think they were like you once – young, idealistic, chasing a promotion they thought would change their lives.’

‘Didn’t it?’

‘For the better?’

‘Improved their bank balances, their lives followed.’ It’s a muttered sigh that he clearly doesn’t believe.

‘No, they didn’t. Not one of those people has a richer life than you. Not one of them has more people around them who love them and want the best for them than you do. And if they were like you once… what if you end up like them one day too?’

He leans forwards and scrubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. ‘What am I supposed to do instead, Lu?’

‘A Christmas retreat,’ I blurt out. ‘This. Everything we’ve done in the past month, but thrown open to paying guests. The decorating, the tree cutting, baking festive dishes in your amazing kitchen, reading in the library, curling up in front of a crackling fire after a bracing walk along the coast, singing Paul McCartney songs around a bonfire…’

‘Right, great, October to December. Limited spaces, a lot of effort and expense involved. What about the other nine months of the year?’

‘A bed and breakfast. A year-round hideaway from the world. Wildlife spotting. Hiking and rambling. Corporate events. Weddings. Celebrations. Writing retreats. Reading retreats. You own something that’s so special, Ol, and people would pay to share a small part of it for a little while.’

‘Not as much as I’d earn with this promotion. Probably not even as much as I earn now, and that’s not enough.’

The silence hangs between us, and I know what I want to say, but I’m not sure I’m brave enough to actually voice it. I’m not even sure if it is what I want, but every time I think about leaving in a few days, I know I’ll regret not saying this more than I’ll regret saying it. Even if he doesn’t feel the same and I do nothing but make a fool of myself. He deserves to know there could be another realistic option.

I reach over and take his hand, trying to draw strength from how special this connection with him feels. This might’ve started off as pretend, but there’s nothing pretend about it now, and I have to trust that he feels it too. I push out a breath and then inhale deeply, like filling my lungs might buoy my confidence and give me a few extra seconds of grace before I finally say something that could change everything about both our lives. ‘What about me? What about what I earn or what I could earn? If there were two of us… Two of us earning, two of us contributing to the bills, and two of us making the most of everything this place could be…’

‘You’re going to pay half my bills… from London?’

I shake my head because I’m going to burst into tears if I utter another word. I didn’t expect it to make me so emotional, but I’ve never been in a position where something mattered this much, and I’m willing him to understand what I’m trying to say.

He does, instantly. His eyes start welling up too. ‘I thought living in London and working somewhere as influential as Oxford Street had always been your dream life.’

‘Dreams can change, and from the moment I met you, I think mine did.’ I swallow hard and take another deep breath. ‘I want to go back to freelancing for smaller shops. This could be the perfect place to do that. There’s Campbeltown and the gorgeous little shops there, and there are links into Glasgow and other cities. If I’m not looking for another fixed job, I can commute from anywhere. I could even work remotely if I focus more on digital strategy and design aspects or advise on shop layouts…’

‘You would stay? Here? With me?’ He sounds so disbelieving and his fingers have inadvertently curled around mine so tightly that he’s clutching my hand like it’s a lifeline, but that’s exactly what he’s given me – a lifeline. The time to step away from my life and realise what was wrong in it rather than just blundering onwards and hoping it would magically fix itself.

‘I don’t know. If you wanted me to. If you wanted to make a go of the castle, of your dad’s idea, his retirement plan. Those photos in the library. He left you with another option and you’ve been too busy to see it. You’re nothing like your bosses, Ollie, and you’d never be happy with a life like theirs. You’re pretending to be something you’re not to make them want you, when the truth is they’d be so bloody lucky to have you exactly as you are.’

‘I’m too mixed-up to dismantle that at the moment, but when I do, I think I’ll owe you a thank you.’ His grip on my hand tightens as he leans over to plant a kiss on my cheek, and when he sits back upright, I can see a hint of excitement shining in his eyes.

‘I’ve been researching. There’s tourism funding and heritage grants. This castle is historic, it’s a part of Scottish history, you could get funding on that basis. There is so much we could do here, and if you gave it everything rather than working every hour under the sun and coming home too exhausted to think straight, you’d have a chance to see that.’

‘I do see that. I didn’t, but since you got here…’ He twirls the ring on my wedding finger around as he thinks about it. ‘These past few days are exactly what my father wanted. The castle full of life. Somewhere for people to go. A sanctuary away from busy city life – that’s what it was to him. He never intended it to be kept to ourselves. He wanted to share it. I’d buried that. After they died, I wanted solitude, I couldn’t imagine the thought of letting people in, and then I got my job and didn’t have time to even think about it, but then you came… I didn’t expect you. I didn’t expect to be in this position.’

‘What position would that be?’

He meets my eyes, knowing full well I’m challenging him to admit it out loud to me and to himself. ‘The one where I hope I don’t get the job. I hope they give it to Clint instead.’

I breathe a sigh of relief at hearing him finally say it, and because of all the reactions I imagined when I said those words, he reacted exactly how I dreamed he would. I don’t want to push him any more tonight, so we sit in silence and watch the rainbow-coloured lights twinkling through the tree branches with no pressure to do anything other than be here, together.

‘You really think we could do it?’ he asks in a whisper, answering where his mind has been for the past few minutes.

‘From our first conversation, I’ve felt like, between us, we could do anything. You made fake marriage and borrowing children sound like a completely reasonable way to spend Christmas. There’s nothing we can’t do together.’

An emotional laugh bursts out of him and he kisses my forehead and rests his head against mine, our bodies leaning against each other’s, our fingers tangled together, and the twinkling tree lights give me hope.

We’re both daydreaming about the same thing – the possibility that the magic of this Christmas never has to end.