Page 76 of A Scottish Country Escape

‘Do you mean you moved up here to escape from your responsibilities?’

Dexter was insistent. ‘No! It’s not like that.’

I could feel my heart splintering and shattering. I had thought I was beginning to know him. What an idiot I had been! Had he got someone pregnant and then abandoned her and the baby to come and live up in Scotland? Or had he got someone pregnant and only just discovered he was a father? No. Surely not.

I shifted away from him in my car seat. ‘Have you had a crisis of conscience now, Dexter, is that it? Has Mrs Carlucci struck a nerve?’

‘Yes. No! Elle, you’ve got it all wrong.’

I dismissed his half-hearted attempts at an explanation. I had been doing everything I could to help him with this curse and yet, here he was, forced into a confession that he was a father to a little girl, albeit a distant one.

We remained seated in the stationary car, with the light slowly vanishing behind the hillside.

‘How old is she?’ I asked after what seemed like an eternity, in a strangled voice I didn’t recognise.

‘Five.’

I scrambled to make sense of what he was telling me. ‘And what’s her name?’

‘Nadia. She lives with her mum.’

I flicked my gaze back to Linda’s cottage. ‘That’s a lovely name.’

Dexter turned on the ignition and we were soon gliding away and back towards town. I felt like my emotions were being spun in a tumble drier.

Dexter’s voice was hesitant. ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.’

We drove back in comparative silence before he pulled to a stop at the brow of the lane that led to Pebble Brook. The outside carriage lights were on, sending a honeyed glow into the darkness.

‘I thought I was getting to know you, Dexter.’ My voice tailed off. ‘And don’t concern yourself with the nature reserve.’

‘But I promised I would. I’m more than happy to lend my support.’

‘There’s no point.’ I reached for the passenger side door handle. ‘You won’t be able to do much after you leave.’

I climbed out, feeling idiotic. I held onto the open door. ‘I don’t understand why you came to Scotland, if you’ve got a daughter in London.’

Dexter blew out his cheeks. ‘It’s complicated.’

I shut the car door and heard the thrum of his car engine behind me as he drove away.

Disappointment lumped in my throat, while I delved into my bag for my front door key. ‘Complicated?’ I murmured to myself. ‘That doesn’t even begin to describe it.’

* * *

The next couple of weeks heralded mid-August and the local school children returning after the summer break.

I had already started browsing through catalogues, identifying suitable stock for Christmas.

That was a terrifying prospect in itself.

Fir Haven saw a tinge of frost on the colder mornings. And I still felt all knotted up inside about Dexter.

I couldn’t blame him at all for wanting to go back to London, especially as he had a child there. But why make such a big thing of wanting to remain in Scotland?

He was still leaving, according to the local gossip hotline. There was talk of one of Glasgow’s most prestigious estate agents having been spotted up at Hawk West Hall. I swallowed hard at the prospect and then felt ashamed and selfish. He belonged with his little girl.

Perhaps Linda Carlucci’s harsh words had made him realise he needed to be a proper father and to stop being so focused on himself? If so, I couldn’t fault him for that. I had no right to.