Page 4

“Wow. I’ve seen you on TV, but I never thought I’d see you here,” said the receptionist, who seemed to be struggling to do her job. Hannah was used to being recognised, but she wasn’t used to people being quite so starstruck. This was going to be awkward.

“Look,” said Hannah. “I was sort of hoping to stay a bit incognito. I don’t really want a fuss.” She sucked her cheeks in and hoped the woman would get the message.

The woman’s face flushed. She took off her glasses and looked hard at Hannah.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Recipe: Train Tattie Scone

Boil 500g of chopped, unpeeled floury potatoes (e.g. Maris Piper) for about 20 minutes.

Protect your hands so you can peel off the skins while the potatoes are still hot.

Put 150g of flour and a teaspoon of baking powder into a bowl with some salt and pepper.

Mash the peeled potatoes with a regular potato masher and add to the bowl.

Add 50g of butter and a beaten egg to the mixture.

Mix until you have a nice soft dough.

Give the mixture a knead until it’s nice and smooth, then turn out onto a well-floured surface.

Cut the dough into six equally sized balls, then roll them out until they are 5mm thick.

Fry the cakes in a frying pan over a medium heat – not too hot – flipping over when the underside is brown.

Cut into four and serve with butter, adding jam or honey if you have a sweet tooth.

Chapter Four

LOTTIE

Twenty years was a long time, sure. But Lottie couldn’t believe that Hannah had wiped Lottie from her memory banks completely. It wasn’t as if they’d been friends, exactly, but they’d moved in the same circles at university. They’d been on the same course. They’d even done one of those awful group presentation assignments together.

Hannah had been far more bookish than Lottie, and far less glamorous than the woman before her now, too. Back then she was always rushing off to another lecture or to her part-time job or something. She was perpetually in jeans and a t-shirt with her hair tied back. But since then, Lottie had seen her on TV a hundred times. It seemed like Hannah had turned into a different person since their student days. And perhaps she had.

“It’s Lottie, Lottie Duvall,” said Lottie.

The woman before her looked at her, seemingly properly for the first time. “Oh, I, er, didn’t recognise you.” Hannah sucked in her cheeks and looked annoyed. Lottie couldn’t for the life of her work out why.

“No problem. OK, look, here’s your room key. Your room is up on the first floor. You’ve got a gorgeous view across the loch.” Lottie was speaking far too quickly, trying to cover her own embarrassment. “Can I book you a table for dinner later?”

“Yes, please,” said Hannah. She’s stopped sucking her cheeks in, but now she just looked blank.

“Great. There’s tea and coffee in your room. If you need anything, just give us a shout down here,” said Lottie, attempting to play along with this oddly functional encounter.

“Sure,” said Hannah, and headed immediately down the corridor towards the stairs, as if she couldn’t bear to be around Lottie for a moment longer.

Once she was safely out of sight, Lottie picked up her toilet accoutrements and returned them to the cupboard. After that, she went back to the office, sat at her desk and closed her eyes. She felt like she would need a good few days to get over the awkwardness of that encounter.

In her mind, she travelled back to those days, to a time when it had seemed like she was on top of the world. She’d loved studying, and more than that, she’d loved the social side of university. She’d had so many friends, and was excited to get out there into the world and become a successful solicitor. Those early months after studying were busy, round after round of interviews and psychometric tests as she tried to find a training contract with a legal firm. It was incredibly competitive, but her grades and her academic prizes spoke for themselves. It wasn’t long before she was through the required year of law school to go into the profession and safely ensconced in a big London firm, living in a tiny flat in Clapham.

This was it, her life was beginning.

For the first time, Lottie found herself wondering what had happened to Hannah during that time. Her classmate had always been so serious and quiet, a barely noticeable figure on the outside of everything. Lottie, meanwhile, revelled in an active social life and all the balls and gatherings that came with being a student. When Hannah had appeared on her TV screen on the BBC news a decade ago, Lottie couldn’t have been more surprised. The timid woman seemed to have turned into a force to reckon with. In fact, she seemed rather intimidating, if the stammering MPs she questioned were anything to go by.

“Head in hands already, love?” came a Scottish voice from the doorway.