Page 37 of The Cottage in the Highlands

I glanced back over my shoulder to make sure Lily Cruickshank wasn’t around. There was no sign of her.

I waggled the section of wood out again for a better view. I couldn’t resist. The glossy, festive sight of holly and ivy studded with red berries appeared in front of me. There was a whole bank of it on the other side of the garden.

I stood up, Harley peering at me in confusion. I could see further down the lawns now too.

A sweet garden bench greeted me, surrounded by laces of winter honeysuckle, their creamy-white petals bountiful and fragrant. There was also cyclamen, with its silver-lined green leaves, blooming in bursts of hot pink, red, and vanilla, not to mention more lavender heathers in periwinkle blue and soft pink. A couple more trees, bare but twisting their branches elegantly towards the evening sky, cast looming shadows over the wooden bench. It was like something out of a Renoir painting.

I paused. I was sure I could hear tinkling water.

My curiosity fired up even more, I moved a bit further down the length of the fence, encouraging Harley to go with me. Yes, that was the sound of water. It sounded like a fountain.

I had hoped there might be another section of the fence further along that had seen better days and which I could dislodge, but no such luck. The rest of the fence looked secure.

I returned to where Harley and I had managed to create a gap. I made a snap decision. We could ease through the space. It would be very uncomfortable squeezing through, but that space would be just wide enough for a twenty-seven-year-old journalist and her Cockapoo puppy to get through.

I gave an uncertain-looking Harley an encouraging smile. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go and take a look.”

Harley wasn’t sure. She took a couple of steps backwards.

I clipped her lead on again and stroked her velvet head. “I bet there are lots of lovely birdies in there you can chase.”

She considered this for a couple of moments and watched me edge my way through. When I remembered I had a couple of her bone-shaped treats in my jeans pocket and waggled the packet in front of her, she had a change of heart, sped up and slid through the gap behind me.

Oh wow! I didn’t know where to look first. I thought the back gardens might be spectacular and they didn’t disappoint.

From the splashes of cerise and violet to the imposing trees, the thick hedgerows and the romantic garden bench, it was breath-taking. I turned my attention to the water feature I had heard only moments before, further down the lawn.

It depicted a blossoming lotus flower with a hummingbird drinking from it as it hovered with its wings open. The water was frothing upwards from its centre in a joyous silver stream and even though there were generous chunks of damp moss on its stone base, it didn’t detract from the fountain’s beauty.

From the water feature to the graceful statues, the whole effect was a magical one. Ok, so the grass could do with a good mow and there were weeds trying to masquerade as flowers, but it was stunning all the same.

I imagined myself lounging on a blanket on a summer’s day, lost in a good book as the sun danced across my face…

“What are you doing? You have no right to be in here!”

My skin prickled.

Harley and I whirled round to see an incandescent Lily Cruickshank emerge out of the back door of the house.

“Mrs Cruickshank,” I panicked. “I’m so sorry, but Harley had a go at the fence, broke one of the damaged panels and—”

“You seem to be making a habit of hanging about round here.”

I thought about the crap day I’d had at work, and self-satisfied Miles and his fiancée. My cheeks flashed. “I just wanted to go somewhere pretty with Harley. Forget about things for a little while.” I realised I was at risk of talking too much and stopped.

She gave me an odd look from the doorway. “You do realise I could have you charged with trespassing?”

“I’m sorry. I got a glimpse of this beautiful garden and I couldn’t resist coming in to take a look.”

Lily Cruickshank’s expression, which had verged on the cusp of fury a moment ago, twisted into one of indignation. “You journalists,” she ground out, down her regal nose. “You think you have the divine right to interfere in other people’s lives.”

“Mrs Cruickshank, please.”

She cut me off, her long flowing olive skirt flapping around her ankles. “Haven’t you got anything better to do than hang around here, sticking your nose into matters that don’t concern you?” Her chilled stare ran up and down me. “No husband to go back to? No boyfriend?”

Her words stung. They dredged up more pictures of Miles and his new fiancée.

She folded her arms across her bony chest. “I bet you’re one of those hard-nosed young madams who puts her career first, before anything or anyone else.”