Page 88 of The Cottage in the Highlands

We crossed through the glade and were met by the sleepy stippled roof of Merry Wood.

I heard Flynn senior take an audible deep breath. “Good God. It’s still the same. It hasn’t changed.” He flicked a look back at us over his shoulder. “It’s crazy to think that I haven’t been back here since Astrid and I divorced.”

“Not even once?” asked Flynn.

“No. I couldn’t face the thought of it. Not without Lily.”

He turned to face us both. “I had all these great plans and intentions.”

“Yes, well, life has a nasty habit of throwing you a curve ball,” I smiled back.

“Isn’t that the truth.”

The three of us drank in the tumble of wild heather in the garden and the misty windows in need of some elbow grease and a dash of vinegar to help them regain their sparkle. It only seemed like minutes ago since the magazine shoot amongst the ghostly statues in the back garden. So much had taken place since then.

I imagined Merry Wood blanketed with snow, like an image on an old Victorian Christmas card.

Flynn senior steeled himself and turned on the spot to face the other way.

Lily’s cottage faced him now. There were fluttering clusters of mistletoe bushes and a couple of tea towels billowing on the washing line in the back garden.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Grandfather?” asked Flynn.

Flynn senior didn’t speak, but the brief nod of his head told us he was intent on seeing her.

I had intended on knocking on Lily’s door first in an attempt to pave the way for what was about to happen and hopefully setting out the stall for an amicable reunion.

But Flynn senior had other ideas.

He picked up his pace and strode up the couple of freshly washed steps to Lily’s front door. He raised one hand. It hovered for a brief moment before delivering a hesitant knock.

My stomach reeled on his behalf.

There was a click of the chain and then Lily’s quizzical face appeared.

She focused first on Flynn senior standing there, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Lily. It’s me.”

She eyed him with suspicion for a few seconds and then recognition struck her like a lightning bolt. One of her hands fluttered to her chest and rested there. “Flynn,” she stammered. Her skin lost all its colour. “No! Flynn? Is that you?”

“It’s so good to see you again.”

A myriad of emotions travelled over her confused face. “I don’t believe this. This isn’t happening.”

“I should never have gone to Africa with her,” said Flynn, taking in her slim frame and curtain of vanilla-grey hair. “That Christmas was magical. I made the biggest mistake of my life…” He continued to stare up at her, as though terrified she might vanish again. “The years have fallen away, Lily…”

Lily dragged her stunned attention away from Flynn senior as she noticed us hovering a few feet away. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. The washed-out winter sun swept across her garden. “You?” she faltered at me. “You arranged this?”

“It’s a long story,” I admitted. “Flynn would like the opportunity to explain.”

But Lily suddenly shook her head, sending her hair flying over her face like a protective veil. The blossoming hope in Flynn senior’s face withered and died.

“No. I don’t want this. It’s all so long ago now.”

She fixed Flynn senior with a wounded gaze that seemed to burn down into her soul. “You never came back. I waited for you.” Her fingers gripped the edge of the door for support. “I heard you had gone for a year.” She swallowed threatening tears. “I spent years hoping I’d see you again. I thought that since you didn’t sell Merry Wood, you intended to come back.”

“But I did come back,” insisted Flynn senior. “I wanted to be with you and Carl and live in Merry Wood, just the three of us… Bernard…” Flynn senior threw me a wild look and carried on. “The letter I wrote to you explaining…”