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“Maybe so,” Elspeth says, “but we’re grateful for it all the same. I lost my best friend that night—Mairi was like a sister to me—and we lost her wonderful husband, Angus, too. But thanks to you, Jamie is still with us.”

“And look at me now,” Jamie says with a grin, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “healthy enough I won a hill race recently.”

“Aye, but daft enough you ditched your kilt before the finish line and flashed half the town,” Lewis adds drily.

“Only thanks to your poor sportsmanship, Lewis! Seriously, grabbing a hold of my kilt because you couldn’t face not being first?”

Cat shudders dramatically. “Enough! I’m still traumatised by that particular memory. Please let’s not talk about it anymore.”

Despite it being a sensitive topic for Cat—I can’t imagine she much appreciated her brother bearing all—smiles break out along both sides of the table. Jamie grins too, apparently perfectly happy being the butt of the joke, so to speak.

But then Ally says, “Speaking of traumatic experiences . . . being arrested must have been quite the ordeal, Robbie. Especially for something you claim you didn’t do.”

And just like that, the tension is back.

“Ally!” Cat warns.

“What?” He raises his hands in exaggerated innocence. “I’m just making conversation.”

I take a sip of wine and weigh my response. “Let’s just say the hospitality at the police station leaves a lot to be desired. But I didn’t steal those items, and I’ll be pleading not guilty.”

Ally just gives a noncommittal “hmm”, but Cat’s had enough. She turns so sharply towards him her chair lets out a squeak.

“Seriously? You’re going to sit there and interrogate Robbie at a family dinner? I know you think you’re protecting me, but maybe try trusting me for once. Robbie is innocent. He’s been framed, and instead of judging him, you could try supporting him—or at the very least, supporting me.”

It’s as if someone’s hit pause. Forks hover halfway to mouths, everyone waiting to see where this will go next.

Cat takes a deep breath, her eyes softening as she looks around at her family. “I know I haven’t always been the easiest wee sister. I went a bit wild in my student days, and I might’ve begged you, Ally, for cash more times than I care to admit. It was Robbie who pointed out to me how lucky I am to have three big brothers who’ve always watched out for me. So . . . for what it’s worth, thank you.”

Ally, Lewis, and Jamie exchange surprised glances, clearly not used to such gratitude from their sister.

Cat takes a shaky breath. “I think part of the reason I enjoyed partying so much was because it was an escape from grief. But now I’m interested in moving forward to a new stage in my life.” Her hand finds mine under the table. “Robbie’s been doing great work in my flat. When it’s all finished, I’ll have you all round to see it. It might be a tight fit, but we can have fizz and cakes and a bit of fun. And maybe”—she shoots Ally a side eye—“a night without any arguments?”

I look around at the faces watching Cat, some surprised, some touched, all attentive. She commands people’s attention in a way I’ve never been able to, with an openness I’ve never mastered.

Something loosens inside me—a knot I didn’t realise was there—and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m speaking.

“Look, Ally . . .” My voice is gruffer than I mean it to be. “I owe you an apology for . . . well, for being a bit of a dick when I was younger.” I glance at Aidan. “I owe you one too.”

Ally blinks as if he’s not sure he heard me right.

“I was angry, a stupid kid with too much attitude and not enough sense.” My mouth twists ruefully. “That doesn’t excuse anything I said or did, of course. But . . . aye. Sorry.”

Cat squeezes my hand so tightly it almost hurts.

“And just to be clear, aye, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes over the years, but the thefts at the Glen Garve Resort? Not me.”

Ally doesn’t jump straight in with another barb or accusation. He just stares at me like I’ve sprouted antlers. Then he gives his head a bewildered shake and manages, “Right. Well.” He clears his throat awkwardly and glances down at his plate as if hoping for some guidance from the mashed potatoes. “That . . . er . . . that’s appreciated.”

But then, recovering his composure, he jabs his fork in my direction so hard a few peas fly off his plate. “But if you break my sister’s heart—if you so much as make her cry—you’ll answer to me, MacDonald.”

“Ally!” Cat and Emily exclaim in unison.

“What? I’m just making sure we understand each other.”

I almost smile. This, at least, is familiar territory. “Understood.”

The meal continues, Aidan launching into an animated tale about a rafting trip he and Ally organised for a stag party today. It feels like he’s working up to a punchline, but before he can reach it, the restaurant door swings open.