Page 110 of A Scottish Country Escape

In my imagination, Nadia appeared by his side and stretched up for his hand. He ruffled her hair and scooped her up into his arms. Together, they stayed by the window with the mini Juliet-style balcony, observing the ravens diving from branch to branch.

I buried a lump of emotion.

What Elsa and I had agreed to do was a long shot in the extreme, but if we didn’t try, we would never know.

With one last picture of Dexter and Nadia huddled together in my head, pointing at the birds, I waved at Elsa and watched her drive away.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Elsa rang me later that evening and said we could set off the next morning at 9 a.m. ‘Is that convenient for you, Elle?’

‘Not a problem. I’ll ask Cate and Gran if either of them can cover the shop for me.’

Elsa’s voice was low. She explained she was ringing me from the kitchen at Hawk West Hall. I could detect a weary smile creeping into her voice. ‘Nadia should carry a government health warning. She never stops.’

I thought back to Dexter and Nadia at the Nature Reserve Knees-Up, their dark heads huddled together.

I noted Elsa’s tone change. ‘As for Dexter, he’s just cancelled a series of TV and magazine interviews. He’s even pulled out of a mentoring project for up-and-coming new crime writers.’

I struggled to dismiss negative thoughts. My parents always taught me that it was worse not to attempt something. If it didn’t work out, then at least you had no regrets.

I caught sight of my anxious expression in the hall mirror. I would speak to Gran now and then ring Cate. ‘I’ll come and pick you up at 9 a.m.,’ I said to Elsa, relieved that things were moving. ‘But I’ll park a little up the lane from Hawk West Hall so no one sees me. Just keep a look out for my car, OK?’

Cate assured me she could make it into Paper Roses for a couple of hours first thing when I called her to explain, so that just left Gran to speak to. ‘Do you think it will work?’ my grandmother asked with a modicum of doubt.

I shrugged. ‘I guess we’ll know soon enough.’

I started to rise from the sofa. ‘Oh, I’ve had some more thoughts about how we can protest the sale of the nature reserve. I was thinking of holding a competition and launching it on the Paper Roses website.’ My enthusiasm started to climb. ‘There could be a five-pound entry fee and all proceeds can go to our nature reserve fund.’

My hands began flapping with excitement. ‘I thought we could ask people to write a love letter to the reserve. It holds so many special memories for local people – wedding proposals, children taking their first steps up there, that kind of thing.’

I hovered over Gran, trying to assess her thoughts on it. ‘I’m sure we would receive a lot of entries.’

I stopped talking. Gran’s expression had fallen. ‘What is it?’

She steeled herself. ‘It might be a bit too late for that, Elle.’

I sank back down in my chair. Apprehension gripped me.

‘I received a phone call from Marjorie while you were on the phone to Elsa.’

Part of me was willing her to continue, while the other half didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Trepidation sizzled through me.

‘The sale of the nature reserve is going ahead next week.’

* * *

I experienced one of the worst night’s sleeps I’d had since losing Mum and Dad.

My thoughts were on a merry-go-round that refused to stop. First, they would latch on to Dexter and the prospect of him leaving, and then they would veer to the nature reserve. I couldn’t accept that nothing more could be done to save it.

The local council were selling it to the highest bidder and that was Atticus Development. They weren’t prepared to wait for a group of enthusiastic but poor locals to scrape together a meagre sum and counter offer. The prospect of ostentatious getaway second homes for the affluent sent a chill through me.

I got up at 6am the next morning, showering robotically, and had an early breakfast, even though I didn’t feel at all hungry.

Gran hadn’t appeared yet, so I threw on my walking boots, fleece, and jeans. Once I’d secured my hair in a top knot, I collected my phone and walked the fifteen minutes to the nature reserve. Even though it wasn’t lovely weather, the plumes of trees discarding their leaves and damp swishing grass still looked magical in the smoky light. It would soon be October and more and more bare branches twisted their branches like elegant flamenco dancers.

A wood pigeon burred above my head. I found a large rock and settled myself down on it. A blur of grey squirrel shot up a tree trunk a few feet away.