Page 24 of A Scottish Country Escape

I stared, wide-eyed, at them both. Had I heard them correctly? ‘No… that can’t be right.’ The nature reserve was the beating heart of Fir Haven.

May blinked at me. ‘I have it on good authority that it is.’ She shook her head. ‘All those suits – all they care about is money.’

Douglas nodded in agreement. ‘You can forget about flora and fauna where profits are concerned.’

My stomach lurched. I felt like the floor underneath me was shifting. All that tumbling, gorgeous woodland and the wildlife it protected shimmered through my mind. The ferns, waggling their inquisitive fingers; the carpets of soft bluebells; the proud soldier oaks, willows and ash trees; the glassy streams trailing over slick rocks.

Images of me with Mum and Dad, rambling through the grass, made my heart thud faster. The skittish grey squirrels racing up the tree trunks and the exuberant throb of birdsong.

If you were fortunate enough, you might even glimpse a flank of red deer melting into the undergrowth or catch sight of a lithe fox.

Anger and trepidation surged through me. I struggled to keep my composure. I’d already lost both my parents; I wasn’t prepared to lose a place where the three of us used to spend so much precious time together. ‘We can’t allow this to happen,’ I croaked, staring wildly at both of them. ‘We’ve got to do something.’

They didn’t look convinced that I would be able to do much, but nodded anyway. ‘There’s talk of the locals coming together to form Save the Reserve Action Group.’

They drained their glasses and sauntered off, leaving me standing there, shock, fury, and determination waging war inside my chest.

Dexter had been examining my stock of wild bird notebooks close to the till, but abandoned it when I approached. ‘Well? What did they say? Did you manage to find out anything?’

I could feel myself quivering with rising frustration and rage, unable to answer. ‘About what?’

His bold blue eyes bore into mine. ‘About the ramifications of Brexit. What do you think? This ruddy curse or whatever it is that I’m under.’

My brow furrowed up at him. ‘What? Oh. Yes. That.’

Dexter’s stubbled jaw throbbed. ‘That is what you were talking to that couple about, isn’t it?’

I fired my ponytail back over my shoulder. ‘Yes. No. Well, I did ask them about Mrs Carlucci to begin with…’

Dexter made a grunting noise as a couple more customers squeezed past him to read the verses in a stack of handmade wedding cards. ‘But what happened then? Did you veer off on a tangent?’ His tone was one of building frustration. ‘Did you find out that the local milkman had given someone the wrong change? Or perhaps the fishmonger closed half an hour earlier than usual?’

I folded my arms. ‘For your information, I’ve just found out that the local nature reserve is under threat.’

I waited for the enormity of this to sink in with him.

Dexter pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Look, I do sympathise. Really. I know the town prides itself on its wildlife.’ He flashed me a look. ‘Can’t something be done to stop the plans?’

I rubbed at my temple and fought to keep my stunned bubbling temper under control. All I could think of right now was that beautiful reserve being wiped out for some naff development – and going with it would be the soul of Fir Haven.

Frustration pumped through me. ‘You probably haven’t been up to the reserve yet.’

The lilting music in the background was now Mozart, soaring and bobbing around the clusters of curious visitors to Paper Roses. I bit my lip. ‘It’s beautiful; like something out of a water colour painting.’ I tried to read the flashes in his eyes. ‘As a writer, I’m sure you would be able to appreciate it.’

‘But that’s the bloody point, Ms Cassidy. I’m not a writer. At least, not right now, thanks to that ruddy woman, Carlucci.’

More pictures of the nature reserve, all burgeoning with pastel colours and dew, prodded me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Gran observing our exchange with concern.

‘I’m telling you,’ he ground out a little louder this time, ‘that woman has done something to me and I need to find out what.’

I blinked and stared incredulously up at him. ‘Is that all you care about? Yourself?’

Dexter moved to protest but the combination of pink champagne and the awful news about the reserve was firing up my fury. ‘That reserve means so much to so many families here.’

‘I’m sure it does,’ he replied. ‘And I’m sure it’s beautiful. But right now, I need your help.’

I took a faltering step backwards, one hand fluttering to the bow of my blouse. Oh my God. I felt like everything that was dear to me was slipping away. And this man, handsome though he might be, was more concerned about his own predicament.