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Walking out into the grounds, she was taken, once more, by the scale of the loch and the hills beyond. The greens and greys were hypnotic, drawing her eyes left and right. She walked towards the water’s edge. The sound of it lapping at the shore was calming, and she drank in the sensory treat. She could see all the way to the stone and mud at the bottom of the loch, thanks to the clarity of the water. She started to walk along the fringes of the loch, sure that it would take her too long to walk all the way around. But perhaps she could walk around some of it today.

Chapter Eight

LOTTIE

So Hannah did remember her. Lottie smiled to herself as she worked through her afternoon chores. She couldn’t work out if she was annoyed with herself at being so pleased that her old university compatriot remembered her. She wasn’t sure why it mattered.

That routine in the bedroom, where she’d sat so stiffly on the bed and protected herself with her arms, reminded Lottie of the Hannah she’d known as a student. She had always seemed so ill at ease with the world. Or, at least, with Lottie. She remembered always trying to smile warmly at the woman in a bid to demonstrate that she came in peace. She always had the sense that Hannah was a bit like a wild animal, someone who could be scared off easily.

Lottie could have cursed herself for asking if Hannah wanted to have a drink and catch up. It had just come out of her mouth. Hannah couldn’t have looked less impressed, and her response was nothing short of lukewarm. Perhaps that was what she was like. Or maybe she just hated Lottie.

Lottie screwed up her face. She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much what someone who she had known a little over twenty years ago thought of her. But she’d noticed that Hannah had remembered her training contract. So she hadn’t forgotten her entirely.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and soon it was time to get changed for dinner. She was looking forward to the treats that Anya was going to bring forth. She dreaded the prospect of Anya being poached by a bigger and better hotel. She was certainly good enough. She had single-handedly taken the McLennon Castle restaurant from decidedly average to one of the best in Fort William.

Lottie pulled on her big coat, the only one worth having at this time of year in the Highlands. It was a long, quilted pink coat that made her stand out a mile, and was completed with a floppy purple woolly hat she’d owned for years. She left the castle and took the short walk to her cottage.

As she started along the path, she could see a figure approaching the castle from the side of the loch. With a yellow hat and a stylish long woollen coat, she knew she recognised the slim figure coming towards her.

Hannah.

Lottie looked at her bright get-up and, for the first time in a while, she felt self-conscious. Hannah somehow looked effortlessly chic, which was an achievement in this part of the world, when the priority was trying to stay warm.

Lottie pulled her coat tighter round herself and looked away. Hannah hadn’t noticed her, and she found she didn’t want to draw attention to her old-hat-and-coat combo. She hurried away down the cobbled path towards her home.

She could see a light in the window to the kitchen. Set in the grounds of the castle, the cottage had come with the job all those years ago. Lottie reflected on the decision that had taken her further from London than she could ever have imagined.

Initially, she had thought it might be possible, working for a legal firm in the capital while parenting two small children. But within weeks it was clear it wasn’t a realistic option. Single parenting was hard, and even more so in the shadow of traumatic grief. Her one-bedroom studio apartment was too small and utterly impractical, and while there was money she was due to inherit, it wasn’t enough to buy a family home in the city.

Lottie’s parents had been utterly destroyed by Meghan’s death. They’d been able to help with money, a little, but they weren’t in any position to be of any practical use. They’d had children later in life, and age was now working against them.

Lottie needed a new plan.

One evening when the children were safely tucked up in her bed, she sat on the sofa, which had become the place she slept, looking through a newspaper at job opportunities. In desperation, over a few too many glasses of wine, she filled out a form for the role of live-in house keeper for McLennon Castle. The following week when she received a phone call inviting her to visit, she’d struggled to remember that she’d even applied. There was nothing for it but to pack the children up and get a train north. It had been a long journey, but it sparked something in the children she hadn’t seen for weeks – excitement, interest.

As soon as she saw the three-bedroom cottage, she knew she could live there. It was summer, and Zack ran around excitedly at the prospect of visiting a castle. They didn’t know that within days they’d be living there. But she could see the delight on their faces, even little Freya’s. This was a place without the memory of their parents and no gap where they had once been. Of course there would always be a gap in their lives as far as their parents were concerned, but here they could start a new life, a life for the three of them.

Lottie walked into the cottage, pulled her hat off and unlaced her boots. “Hey Freya. I’m back,” she called.

“Hi.” Freya was nothing if not economical with her words.

Lottie poked her head into the kitchen where Freya sat in front of her laptop. “I’m just going to get ready for dinner. You all set?”

“Yep.” Freya looked briefly up, then returned to the screen.

Lottie sighed as she went up the stairs. Freya had struggled the most with the absence of her parents. Somehow, the fact that she didn’t have the clear memories of them her older brother did had made her grief harder to bear.

Opening her wardrobe, Lottie saw the three dresses she owned. The sleeveless dress that came out when it was warm for a day or two over the summer months. The dress she would wear this evening – a forest-green, long-sleeved number that hugged her curves. And the third one. She’d not looked at it in years. She took it out on the hanger. This had been the last ball gown she’d worn at university. It was light blue with diamante detailing. It was probably woefully out of fashion now, but she hadn’t been able to part with it. It was the last vestige of her old life.

Chapter Nine

HANNAH

The cold and the damp of her walk seemed to seep into Hannah’s bones. It was invigorating, in the way that a walk around the Serpentine would never have been. She arrived in her hotel room, her cheeks pink and a smile on her face. She’d never been an outward bounds sort of person, but she’d loved taking in the scenery, the grandeur of the landscape, and she’d even spotted some birds of prey sweeping over the water.

Back in her room, she shed her layers and turned on the shower. She needed to warm up and make herself presentable for dinner.

The small bathroom filled with steam, and when she stepped into the torrent she was grateful for good plumbing. The water enveloped her, flowing down her body and washing away the cold and damp. She stood, enjoying the sensation, allowing the water to flow down her face and over her shoulders.