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“You’ll just have to get a handyman in to do the work,” Ally suggests.

I sigh. “Maybe when my bank account is looking a little healthier.” The deposit just about cleaned me out.

This is the first place I’ve ever owned, and it’s dawning on me what that really means. When I was renting, if a tap leaked or a light fixture went wonky, I’d just call the landlord and—poof!—problem solved. Now? Every creaky floorboard and peeling bit of wallpaper is officially my responsibility.

“Anyway,” I say brightly, trying to brush off my disappointment, “loads of people learn how to do this stuff themselves. YouTube tutorials exist for a reason.”

Jamie bursts into laughter. “Ha! Good one, sis. You and DIY.”

I grit my teeth. I wasn’t joking. What choice do I have?

“The new school term is starting soon,” I say. “If any teenagers give me grief, I can come home and hit some nails with a hammer. It’ll be therapeutic.”

“Just don’t hit your thumb,” Lewis warns. “Or turn this place into more of a disaster zone than it already is.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Ally places a hand on my shoulder. “We’re not trying to rain on your parade, Cat. This place has potential but it needs a lot of work, and none of us has time right now.”

“I get it,” I say. And I do. They’ve all moved into new stages of their lives while I’m still trying to figure mine out.

I like to think of myself as independent, but the truth is, with three older brothers, I’ve never really had to be. They’ve always looked out for me, even Jamie. But now? Now they’ve all got partners and businesses, and suddenly rescuing me from my self-made disasters isn’t top of their priority lists the way it once was.

“Anyway, I best head off,” Jamie says. “Good luck, Bob the Builder.” Smirking, he ruffles my hair, apparently oblivious to the existential crisis bubbling away behind my forced smile. “If you somehow manage to make this place liveable, I’ll bring booze for your flat-warming party.” He fires me a wink then heads for the door.

Ally and Lewis make their excuses too. All three promise to check in soon, then the door clicks shut behind them.

“Well,” I say to my empty flat, “looks like it’s just you and me now.”

Time to figure out how the hell I’m going to do up this place on my own.

CHAPTER FOUR

CAT

Sunlight filters through the forest canopy, dappling Bracken’s smooth chestnut coat as she moves steadily beneath me. After last night’s DIY disaster, a leisurely ride is the perfect therapy.

“This is more like it, eh, girl?” I give the mare a light nudge with my heels to keep her moving along the winding woodland path. “You and me, out here in the fresh air like old times. This is a whole lot better than wrestling with that bloody kitchen drawer.”

Bracken snorts softly, which I choose to take as agreement.

The drawer in question is currently lying in disgrace on my tatty linoleum floor after a late-night attempt to fix its wobbly runners went spectacularly awry. No amount of fiddling, Googling, or swearing could coax it back into place. Turns out those smug YouTubers who make DIY look easy are liars.

Still, despite my ongoing efforts to reassure myself that buying my flat was not, in fact, a colossal error of judgement, it is nice to be back in Bannock. Those six years away were great, but there’s something comforting about coming home, like pulling on an old jumper that still smells faintly of childhood memories.

And the best part? Once again living on the same street as Iona and Maisie, my best friends since, well, forever. It’s brilliant—or at least, it should be. In practice? Not so much, given they barely have time to hang out these days on account of being surgically attached to their boyfriends, who just so happen to be my brothers.

It was weird enough when Iona started dating Lewis—even though, to be fair, he’s basically been in love with her since dinosaurs roamed the earth. But then Maisie had to go and fall for Jamie!

Then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any weirder, Lewis and Iona announced a few days ago that they’re no longer boyfriend and girlfriend. No, they’re now fiancé and fiancée.

Which is lovely news, of course. Really. Heart-warming and very romantic. But I expect it means even fewer opportunities for girls’ nights.

Hmm. Seeing as everyone else has a man, I should probably pop into Inverness soon and find myself one. Not for romance, mind. Nah, just for a good shag.

Sorry, but it was a long year in Wick, okay?

A bead of sweat trickles down my neck, the August heat finding me even in the cool shade of the woods. I adjust my helmet then lean forwards to pat Bracken’s neck, only for my hand to come away damp.