Page 27 of The Cottage in the Highlands

“Clarity Newspapers are going to sell it off,” said Doug. “It will probably end up as an ice cream parlour or a charity shop, although I hear they’re being greedy, due to its location, and are going to ask a ridiculous amount for it. “

There was a charged silence for a few moments until Doug thumped the edge of his desk. “Right team, enough of this melancholy. We have Leonie’s leaving-do to plan.”

I managed to smile, despite the reticence churning around in my stomach. “In other words, where are we going to go for an extended lunch and who is going to get the first round in?”

I spent the next two weeks reading up on everything from retinol and hot stone massage, to crystal exfoliation and seaweed wraps. I also threw myself into writing a special piece for the paper about my two years reporting there. That was a task in itself, as every time I reflected on my happy memories there, I would choke up.

My head was such a jumbled mess of beauty products and saying my private farewells to The Silver Ness News and its supportive community that I decided to temporarily park any thoughts about further investigations of Merry Wood and Lily Cruickshank.

There would be plenty of time to return to that particular puzzle once I started at Goddess.

My leaving lunch on that Friday in October, my last day with the paper, was a tearful event.

Doug, Frances, and I enjoyed delicious seafood overlooking Silver Ness beach, with its chilly water rushing onto the sand and the odd creak of salt-washed boats.

The restaurant, Something Fishy, was all cherry-wood dining tables, with fishing nets artfully draped across the walls and twinkling fairy lights decorating its alcoves.

Doug and Frances presented me with a mocked-up and framed front page of some of my more memorable news stories. There was the time I got up at silly o’clock to go out on a shift with Silver Ness’ most successful fishing trawler and another article I wrote about trying to become a dog behaviourist with Silver Ness’ award-winning dog trainer. You only had to look at Harley to see how that turned out!

They also gave me a gorgeous gold and blonde-wood pen, engraved with my initials.

I swallowed hard, tears cluttering up my eyes. The anaemic autumnal sun was flitting across the top of the sea in an almost biblical fashion.

Frances leant forward and bundled me into her arms, before Doug scraped his chair out opposite and gave me a peck on the cheek. He coughed. “Here’s to the future of The Silver Ness News. Ok, it won’t be how we remember it.” He sank back down in his chair and picked up his wine glass, forced joviality in abundance. “But here’s to new beginnings for all of us.”

I felt as if I had been thrown into someone else’s life and told to get on with it or drown.

Instead of sitting with Frances and Doug in our cosy little newsroom with its delicious smell of newspaper print and coffee, I was now seated at a baby-pink and white frosted glass desk that would have looked at home inside a doll’s house.

Everyone on the Goddess team seemed pleasant enough, if a little serious and self-satisfied and once Orion, Athena’s PA, had taken me around and made the introductions, she had escorted me to my new desk.

I was surrounded by lethal-looking flowers and glass pillars. My stunned freckled expression stared back.

I mentally ran through the names and faces of my new work colleagues. That was odd. Surely there was a beauty editor on the team who I would be working for? I searched my brain for the colleague introductions I had just received. I didn’t remember Orion saying anything about one of them being the beauty editor.

Oh, not to worry. They were probably due in a bit later and I would meet them then.

Athena was expected in at any moment, so there was a charged hush in the air.

I switched on my PC, having been informed by Orion that it was all set up for my use. As it whirred into life, I peered into my in-tray. That seemed to consist of a pile of fancy-looking press releases, promoting everything from smudge-proof mascara to snail slime hand cream.

My chest deflated.

Orion offered me a supportive smile from her corner of the open-plan office and I struggled to return it.

From across the floor, I noticed whispers being exchanged out of the sides of mouths and glances at me over the tops of PC screens.

But the indiscreet asides were interrupted. There was a sudden frisson as the main office doors glided open and Athena swept in, a couple of dayglo folders under one arm. “Team meeting,” she barked, looking at none of us. “My office.”

I watched my new colleagues delivering discreet eye rolls. I gathered up my notebook and pen and followed them.

Athena’s office was like the helm of some futuristic space craft. It was a white-carpeted affair, but with a triangular meeting table and flowing dark blinds at both windows. Even the two potted plants were trapped in angular pots by the door.

I took up the seat next to Orion and shot her an apprehensive glance. I couldn’t help but wonder if the other new start – the person who had been appointed to the investigative journalist position – was arriving today too. And the fate of the previous beauty writer nudged the corners of my mind…

Athena was now stationed at the helm. She craned forward in her highbacked chair and opened one of the files. “I take it, Leonie, that you’ve met everyone already?”

“Yes, thank you, Athena. Although come to think of it, I haven’t met—”