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The chocolate fondant was as delicious as ever, and the ice cream had a chilli kick that cleansed the pallet beautifully. Anya had personally served Freya her dessert, which was larger than everyone else’s.

“Favouritism!” complained Alistair. They all laughed and Lottie could feel herself beginning to relax again. She wasn’t a little person in this group. She was part of a family. It wasn’t quite the family she had planned, but it was the one she had. Freya seemed to have chilled out a bit more now and was entering into conversation with Anne-Marie and Alistair, who were devoted to both her and Zack.

After dinner, Freya headed into town to meet some friends for a drink and Lottie found herself a quiet corner in the bar. She ordered herself a whisky and gazed into the fireplace.

Chapter Eleven

HANNAH

Hannah was blown away by the food. She’d opted for the chocolate fondant and had not been disappointed. She was pretty certain she’d never tasted a better dessert, which was quite something given the amount of Michelin-starred restaurants she and Carl had frequented over the years. It had started as a treat for their first wedding anniversary, but after a short time it just became the thing they did to celebrate a special occasion. Hannah had even found herself feeling it had become a chore.

She drained her coffee and made her way to the grand room with the Christmas tree. Small groups of guests were having drinks and chatting. Hannah smiled. Yes, she could enjoy a drink before bed. Almost as if she’d willed it, a younger woman in black trousers and a white shirt approached her with a wide grin and a menu. “Maybe a night cap?” she asked.

“You read my mind,” said Hannah. She was on holiday, after all. “What would you recommend?”

“Definitely the Ben Nevis single malt. It’s distilled nearby from water in our loch.” The woman held her notepad hopefully.

“I don’t normally like whisky.” Hannah clasped her hands together. “But perhaps I can make an exception, especially if it’s a local speciality.”

“Perfect,” said the waitress. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Hannah relaxed into an armchair and admired the Christmas tree’s boughs, weighed down with glittering decorations. She still felt the cold fingers of shame that she had assumed Lottie was working when she approached her table earlier that evening. But at least now she was being served by a bona fide member of staff who was actually on duty and seemed happy in her work. Hannah could see why. The surroundings were idyllic. That said, she couldn’t imagine herself living so far from the lights and the buzz of the city.

The whisky was delivered in a small glass. Hannah took a small sniff and immediately knew she’d made a mistake. It might have been a local tipple, but it was still whisky and the smell turned her stomach. She laughed at herself. She’d been seduced into trying something she hated. That really wasn’t her usual style.

She kept hold of the glass and walked into the small bar area. She’d not had a look at it before but was struck by how cosy it was. In contrast to the hall, this was a far more informal and comfortable space. She looked to her right and immediately clapped eyes on Lottie, who was nursing a similar glass to her own. Before she could pretend she hadn’t seen her, Lottie’s eyes met hers and widened.

“Hi,” said Lottie. “Did Emily press the local malt upon you?”

“Um, yes,” said Hannah. She stood unmoving, not sure where to put herself. “But now I’ve remembered I don’t actually like whisky.”

Lottie chuckled. “The old ‘but you must try this one’ trick?”

Hannah’s shoulders relaxed a little, and she nodded.

“Whisky isn’t for everyone, but I love it.” Lottie pointed to her own half-drunk glass.

“You don’t happen to like the local brew, do you?” enquired Hannah. “I haven’t even had a sip.”

“It’s the only one I drink,” said Lottie, her eyes sparkling.

Hannah took a step closer to Lottie’s table and gently placed her glass there. “Well, I won’t interrupt your evening.” Hannah looked over at the bar. “I’ll just order a glass of wine and get out of your hair.”

“You don’t have to,” said Lottie.

Hannah felt her skin prickle. “Well, I…”

“Take a seat.” Lottie took control with disarming friendliness.

“Sure,” said Hannah.

Soon the pair were almost knee to knee at the small table. There was an awkward silence.

“Sorry about before.” Hannah drew her finger down the condensation on the outside of her wine glass.

Lottie waved her hand. “No, it’s fine. An easy mistake.” Although Hannah detected a sense of relief in Lottie that she had apologised. Did she think Hannah was some kind of monster?

“But nonetheless, unintentional.” Hannah tried to think about safer territory. “You have an incredible chef here.” It was a bit wooden, but it was a start, she supposed.