Page 114 of A Scottish Country Escape

‘Please, Mrs Carlucci,’ I begged. ‘Dexter has grown to mean so much to both Elsa and me.’

A bloom of optimism promised to bud. Linda hesitated as she held her front door open, conflict battling its way through her eyes. But then my hope was crushed. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.’

‘But, Mrs Carlucci, if you would just agree to speak to Cameron Lomax—’

‘I lost the love of my life,’ she faltered. ‘Nothing will ever change that.’

Elsa and I were left standing on her step with the bang of her front door ringing in our ears.

Chapter Seventy-One

My insides contracted on seeing Elsa’s desperate expression.

‘That’s it. We’re all out of ideas,’ she said. She buried herself deeper into her quilted jacket. ‘That woman,’ and she indicated to the closed door behind us, ‘is still trapped in 1964 with her grief.’

Elsa marched back towards my car. ‘She won’t listen to reason, Elle.’

I could see her chest rising and falling in frustration. ‘I know Dexter can be an arrogant bugger at times, but he has changed for the better.’ She paused and flicked me a look. ‘And that is thanks to you.’

I forced a smile, even though despondency was pressing down on me.

Elsa watched me pluck my car keys from out of my bag. We both got into my car and sat for a few moments, with a faint wash of morning sun lighting up the sky that surrounded Linda’s cottage.

I was going to lose Dexter, even though he wasn’t really mine to lose. My fingers furled and unfurled themselves around the steering wheel.

‘Even if Cameron Lomax told her face to face what really happened that night, I don’t think she would listen,’ said Elsa.

I thought about that. Would it even work, if I could make it happen? We were running out of time. But it had to be worth a try…

Elsa’s brows fenced as she watched me fetch my mobile from my bag on the back seat. ‘What are you doing now?’

I found the number I was looking for in my purse and began dialling it. ‘I’m doing what you just suggested. We have to.’

‘What suggestion?’

I locked eyes with her as the ring tone at the other end drummed in my ear. Concern pulled at my insides. What if they weren’t there? A voice inside my head begged them to answer.

After several seconds, however, I heard Ingrid Lomax’s voice. ‘Hello?’

Still baffled by what I was doing, Elsa leant forward in the passenger seat and mouthed, ‘What?!’

I hesitated. Oh god. What am I doing? My stomach pirouetted. I couldn’t say who I was again. She wouldn’t speak to me. But I had to do this, for Dexter’s sake.

Elsa stared at me, puzzled, as I proceeded to disguise my voice by putting on an English accent and pretended to be from the local doctor’s surgery, insisting that Cameron Lomax was due a blood pressure check.

Ingrid Lomax hesitated. ‘But I thought he had that done a couple of months ago.’

Shit! I swallowed a ball of panic and fought to stay in character. ‘No, that was his cholesterol.’ I could feel beads of perspiration collecting on my forehead.

Please be there, I repeated silently to myself. Please be in.

Ingrid paused. ‘Oh, right. Yes, hang on a second and I’ll fetch him.’

When she put down the phone, I let out a long breath that sounded more like a balloon deflating. Then Cameron came to the phone.

In a deeply apologetic gush, I explained it was me. ‘I’m sorry but I needed to speak to you.’ Not giving him an opportunity to interrupt, I told him where Elsa and I were and what had just happened. ‘Please can you help?’ I begged. ‘Linda is refusing to listen to us, but if you spoke to her, I think it would make all the difference.’

I could make out Ingrid’s irritated tone in the background and her persistent, ‘Cameron! Who is it? Who are you talking to?’