Page 116 of The Cottage in the Highlands

Not so.

Not long after Flynn senior’s interview appeared in Goddess, a series of stunning, moody, and mysterious photographs began appearing on the sides of wooden fences and old buildings.

Nobody knew who the talented photographer was other than that each of the photographs was autographed by someone calling themselves Strike.

It was only when I mentioned the sudden appearance of the compelling black and white photographs on the streets that Flynn delivered a cheeky wink and said, “Fancy that!”

I guess delivering art to the masses must run in the family.

Doug was enjoying his retirement from The Silver Ness News. Whenever I saw him, he would reminisce about the old days and the joviality we shared in the newsroom, but as he and Cheryl now had a campervan, which they called Sophia, they were often touring the country lanes.

Frances meanwhile was still working on a part-time basis as a reporter for the new title. She told me that she would always miss the camaraderie she had with Doug and me, but the new team was a good bunch of people and she was making the most of it.

The new paper had been met with some resistance from the Silver Ness locals, but they were slowly coming around to the changes.

Following feedback from readers, the new editor and his team decided to reflect the wants and desires of their long-established readership, rather than reinvent the wheel.

Gone were the outlandish social media interactions and instead they copied the philosophy of its predecessor. Out went TikTok and back came the local correspondent’s news and views, the return of campaigns that were at the heart of Silver Ness and stories about the town’s residents’ struggles, motivations, and successes.

Nothing ever stays the same, does it?

And as for Flynn and me? Well, his regular appearances at Sea Shell Cottage soon became a winner with Harley.

She adores him. So much so that his occasional overnight stays have turned into a permanent arrangement.

I’m trying to persuade Flynn to give me an exclusive interview as Strike, the elusive street photographer who’s taken over where Chandler left off. He keeps insisting he has no idea what I’m talking about and silences me with one of his delicious kisses.

I suppose I’ll just have to keep working on him!

Flynn senior and Lily are making up for all the years they lost, creating new memories and treasuring the ones they made in the past, living together in Merry Wood. They really are an example to us all.

Live for today and let tomorrow take care of itself is their motto.

That’s what Flynn and I intend to do too.

Now, I’ll just ask him again if Strike might consider giving me an interview. He may well silence me again with one of those kisses of his…

If I’m lucky…

The snow was spiralling down, as Flynn and I drove towards Merry Wood.

The air was ripe with Christmas magic and the hills were slick with white.

We parked up in the picnic area as usual and clambered out of Flynn’s car. Harley, secured on the back seat, let out an excited ruff and then bounded ahead through the thick layer of snow carpeting the woods and fields as soon as we let her out of the car.

I held on to the wrapped Christmas gifts we had brought them – a new painting palette and brushes for Flynn senior, and a wreath bread-making set for Lily.

As we approached the entrance to Merry Wood, the door opened and Flynn senior and Lily greeted us, sporting wide smiles and beckoning us in.

Harley shot past our legs and into the hallway. There was the delicious, rich scent of warm mulled wine and the cosy aroma of baking wafting out of the kitchen.

I kissed Lily and cocked my head. “What delights are you making now?”

“Cranberry muffins. They shouldn’t be much longer.”

As Flynn senior guided us into the sitting room, the crackle and spit from the log fire lit up the entire place, like a giant amber smile. Merry Wood was now a welcoming beating heart of a house again. Flynn senior had employed a crack team of cleaners who, prior to him and Lily moving in, had steam-cleaned, polished, and dusted so that their own furniture, as well as some new furnishings and the carpets they had chosen could be installed in time for Christmas.

Gone were the heavy, old, creaky pieces of wooden furniture and in their place was an eclectic mix of Flynn senior’s possessions and Lily’s too.