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“Maybe.” Freya opened the fridge and pulled out the second bottle of the morning.

Lottie looked up at the clock. “Well, it is past twelve, I guess.”

“Yep. It’s five o clock somewhere,” said Freya, “and as everyone knows, at Christmas all bets are off.”

“Indeed they are,” said Lottie.

“Any chance we might see Hannah today?” Freya was busily taking the foil of the top of the bottle.

“I hope so.” Lottie fervently hoped so.

“Me, too,” said Freya, before popping the cork and disappearing back to the boys.

Lottie surveyed the kitchen. Everything was nearly ready. She poured herself another coffee, put her coat on and took it out into her small front garden. The high stone front step was clear of snow, so she closed the door behind her and took a seat.

From this angle, the castle looked magical. The cold grey stone was decorated with sweeps of sparkling snow. Lights glowed from inside, and Lottie could see indistinct movement through the windows. No doubt families enjoying Christmas morning. Or perhaps not enjoying it. There was always a pressure to be happy that she knew didn’t suit everyone, especially when things were difficult.

Steam rose from the coffee, mingling with the cold air. This wasn’t so bad, Lottie reasoned. She could live like this.

“Do you have another of those?”

Lottie’s head shot up. She knew that voice.

Standing in front of her was Hannah. She was wrapped in her coat and hat, but her face was red, as if she’d been walking. Her boots were covered in snow and her eyes were bright.

“Hi.” Lottie was momentarily lost for what to do next. She stood up. “Yes, coffee. Come in.”

“Do you mind if we talk out here?” asked Hannah. “I’m not sure I’m ready for, er, people.” She looked at her feet and kicked the snow off one of her boots.

Lottie’s mind swirled. “Of course. Wait here. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll go and get you a cup of coffee.”

Moving as quickly as she could, and terrified that if she took too long, Hannah wouldn’t be there when she returned, Lottie was back less than a minute later with the coffee and some whisky. “I know you don’t want any,” said Lottie, “but it is Christmas, after all.” She poured a generous slug into her own mug, for medicinal purposes.

“I’ll never get used to how obsessed everyone up here is with whisky,” said Hannah, taking a seat beside Lottie on the step.

For a moment they sat side by side in silence, watching the steam from their drinks mingle with their breath in the cold.

“Thank you for your note,” said Hannah. “I wasn’t sure I’d come.” She sipped her drink. “But I walked around the loch this morning and decided if you had more to tell me, I owed it to you to hear it. So, here I am.”

With that, she took out a battered hip flask from inside her coat and poured a generous measure of what smelled like rum into her coffee.

Lottie took a deep breath.

Chapter Forty-Five

HANNAH

Lottie looked more nervous than Hannah had seen her before. She was normally the confident one, the one with a plan in any given room. But here on this step, she seemed somehow smaller.

“I never expected to feel anything for you,” started Lottie, “and when I did, it shook me a bit.”

“Because of who I am?” Hannah asked.

“No, not that.” Lottie clasped both her hands around her mug. “I’ve met people here and there over the years, like I told you. But I’ve never really felt anything real with anyone. Maybe it’s because I was busy raising those two.” She nodded her head towards the living room window.

Hannah waited.

“I guess I wasn’t expecting to feel as strongly about you as I did. And yes, I had my doubts. You do live hundreds of miles away. Our lives are as different as they can be.” Lottie wriggled a little on the step, accidentally nudging Hannah’s arm. “And to start with, it did seem like you were a bit emotionally closed off.”