Page 77 of A Scottish Country Escape

Dexter had rung me briefly a couple of times and sent the odd text, the last one of which had said he was taking part in a crime writing festival in the Lake District for a couple of days.

To be honest, I was unsure why he had felt the need to ring me at all.

Cate and Grandma were sympathetic, but both expressed understanding for his plight as well as mine. ‘I bet he doesn’t really want to return, but what with his daughter being there and all this Linda Carlucci carry-on, he probably thinks it’s the best solution all round,’ suggested my gran.

And so, with a heavy heart, I threw myself into Paper Roses even more than usual.

I also treated myself to a new cream and gold bedside lamp and fluted buttercup-yellow curtains for my bedroom, and popped my treasured photos of Mum, Dad, and Gran in new dark-wooden frames.

* * *

I had just arrived at the shop, huddled under an umbrella against an early morning shower, when my mobile rang in my bag. This was perfect timing!

I found the key and stumbled through the door. I fired on the shop spotlights to see Gran’s expectant smile leaping out at me from the phone screen. ‘We need to do something,’ she gabbled, not bothering with her usual chit-chat and pleasantries.

‘Gran, please slow down. What is it?’

‘It’s the nature reserve. I’ve just had a call from Morag at the council.’

A thud of dread punched me in the stomach. ‘And?’

‘It’s not yet official. Morag is risking a lot by letting this out.’

I gripped my mobile. ‘Go on.’

‘It’s not looking good,’ said Gran. She sighed. ‘There have been a few delays due to red tape, but Atticus Development are planning an official announcement within the next couple of weeks.’

‘And the start of the work?’

Gran paused. ‘Apparently six to eight weeks’ time. They want things underway by Halloween at the latest.’

My heart sagged further as Gran’s words rolled over me. ‘I hate to say this, but I think we may be fighting a losing battle.’

Chapter Forty-Seven

How the hell could they justify this?

What on earth was possessing them to ruin the nature reserve, in order to throw up an array of holiday homes?

I already knew the answer of course: money.

Despite the protests and the vocal opposition, the council were intent on their mission. Pictures of Dexter leaving crowded in my mind too. Even his public support, which had garnered the attention of the national and international press, hadn’t seemed to result in success. Atticus Development were bulldozing over the wishes of the local community in more ways than one.

More images flitted around my mind, of Mum, Dad, and me larking about up there. We would watch the robins flit from branch to branch in winter and admire the butterflies in spring, which were like mini rainbows hovering above the flowers. Then there were the swans gliding along on the surface of the water. Dad would scoop me onto his shoulders and march along laughing, while I squealed in delight and grinned down at Mum.

I blinked a few times and held my mobile tighter to my ear.

I forced a smile at a customer, who clattered through the shop door and began browsing our ruby anniversary cards.

I whirled on my heel, a grim determination overtaking me as I visualised my parents again and what they would have made of this terrible news. What would they have done? Would they have just rolled over and accepted defeat?

The future of the reserve did look grim, but the fight wasn’t over yet.

I could feel my chin hardening as I spoke to Gran. ‘If Atticus Development think this is over, they are much mistaken.’ I steeled myself for the battle ahead. ‘There’s no way we’re giving up now.’

‘But, darling, the council have said it’s a done deal.’

‘I don’t care, Gran.’