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Lottie beamed. “Anya is a real gem. I’m pretty sure there are guests who come and stay here solely due to the reputation of the restaurant. She’s been here almost as long as I have.”

“And how long is that?” Hannah couldn’t resist asking the question.

“Twenty years, pretty much.” Lottie took a thoughtful sip from her whisky glass.

“I thought you went to that big legal firm?” Hannah was failing to temper her curiosity.

“I did.” Lottie smiled brightly. Perhaps too brightly. There was something else happening behind her eyes, but Hannah couldn’t identify it. “But life had other plans for me.”

“Is that a John Lennon line? Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans?” Hannah nodded. “Yes, that’s it.”

“It’s a good one,” agreed Lottie. “I unexpectedly became a parent not long after I’d started working in London. My life changed very quickly. Sometimes you have to prioritise family.” She said the words in a matter-of-fact way, as if she’d spoken them many times before.

Hannah gave a tight smile. “Children are known for making things complicated, I guess.” So Lottie had fallen pregnant, as she’d suspected. “How many children do you have?”

“Two,” said Lottie, “a boy and a girl.” This time she gave a genuine smile. Hannah could see her pride shining through.

“And is their father around?” Hannah asked.

“No.” Lottie’s answer was short, and a cloud crossed her face. This was clearly a sore point. Perhaps she was divorced as well, like Hannah.

“Doing it alone must be tough.” Hannah gave what she hoped was a sympathetic smile.

“I’ve never been alone.” Lottie seemed to relax again. “This place is a family. That’s why I’ve stayed for so long. I live in a cottage in the grounds. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, and any people I’d prefer to live with.” She smiled warmly in a way that made Hannah feel lonely. She certainly couldn’t relate to this in any way.

“Can I get you anything else, ladies?” The young waitress was back.

“No thanks, Emily. How are you doing?” Lottie patted the younger woman’s arm.

“Oh fine, thanks. Actually, my aunt Cally is in town. Maybe you should take her up on going out for a drink this time?” Emily gave a subtle wink.

Lottie chuckle and shook her head. “Emily, stop trying to match-make me. I’m far too busy to go out with anyone. Besides, just because we’re both gay doesn’t mean we’ll automatically be attracted to each other.” She raised her eyebrows.

“No, I know that,” scoffed Emily. “It’s just that you’re two of my favourite people. I just figured…”

“Well thank you, but no thanks. She’s lovely, but I am absolutely fine as I am.” Lottie smiled, but it was clear the subject was now closed.

Chapter Twelve

LOTTIE

Emily retreated and Lottie could see something like surprise in Hannah’s face.

“You’re gay?” said Hannah.

“Sure am,” smiled Lottie, “always was, came out when I was seventeen. I thought you’d have known.”

“No,” said Hannah. Lottie noticed her cheeks growing pink, which surprised her, given she was a hardened journalist who had to have met many diverse people. A middle-aged lesbian in the Highlands was surely not a particular scandal. Hannah frowned slightly before continuing. “Well, OK then.” She took a long sip from her wine glass, as though taking time to think.

“Emily’s always trying to set me up with someone or another.” Lottie tried to keep the conversation moving. She looked at Hannah’s long fingers, adorned with silver rings, clasped together tightly in her lap. Clasped together tightly seemed an apt description for the woman herself. “But I’m really not here for it at the moment.” Lottie knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but this was a nervous, tentative sort of conversation, and she wasn’t in the mood for sharing too much with Hannah anyway.

Hannah gave a rueful smile. “No, me, neither.” She touched the finger where a wedding ring would have been. “Been there, done that.” She sighed. “My husband – my ex-husband – and I divorced recently.”

“I’m sorry,” said Lottie. She had seen friends go through the process and knew how hard it could be.

Hannah waved her away. “I was probably a terrible wife.”

“Or maybe he was a terrible husband?” Lottie suggested.