Page 88 of A Scottish Country Escape

All we had to hope for now was the local people supporting us!

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I jumped in and out of Cate and Lucy’s shower cubicle before blasting my hair dry and throwing on my clean outfit, which consisted of an ankle-length sky-blue dress sprinkled with cream stars and with ruched sleeves and matching kitten heels. I had also brought my vanilla denim jacket to throw on over it, if the weather got a bit cool, and my navy trainers if my feet started to protest.

I rough dried my hair and toned down my pink complexion with my arsenal of foundation and loose powder. I finished off with a sweep of my autumnal-coloured eye shadow, a flick of black mascara, and my favourite pink lipstick.

Then I hooked my hair behind each ear and gathered up my dirty clothes from that morning.

Cate and Lucy’s en suite bathroom in their flat led out into their gorgeous bedroom. It was an eclectic mix of their two characters, with Cate’s love of bling evident on the scatter cushions, picture frames, and mirror surround. Lucy’s rustic influence could be seen in the burnished shades of the curtains, landscape paintings, and distressed furniture.

I locked up their apartment and adopted a brisk pace as I headed back to the main street.

As I rounded the corner, I drew up. A fizz of delighted adrenalin pumped through me when I saw that the road and pavements outside Paper Roses and the other shops was a sea of mingling people.

Toddlers were hoisted on top of their dads’ shoulders; there were teenagers milling around in front of Dean Ellwood’s makeshift stage, anticipating his appearance; children were clustering around the baking stall, admiring the array of cupcakes, muffins, and scones for sale.

Some of the local ladies were flitting between the knotted chiffon scarves, knitted handbags, and Cate’s jewellery, while animated representatives from the animal and bird conservation societies were answering questions and referring to leaflets set out on their respective stalls.

I turned to my left, feeling my smile widen. One of the children’s entertainers was parting the crowd as he balanced on stilts, his glittery top hat winking under the September sun.

To his right, the magician was bending down and chatting to an entranced little girl, who gasped when the performer threw her hands behind her back and produced a posy of plastic flowers. A waft of bagpipes travelled over the heads of the crowd.

I picked up my pace, happiness and relief coursing through me. Surely the council and developers couldn’t ignore such a groundswell of support for the reserve? Maybe there was still a chance that it could be saved? I just hoped this amount of people converted into a considerable sum of money.

The air was filled with chatter and the scent of toffee apples, hot chocolate, and roasted nuts as I got closer to Dean Ellwood’s stage. There was a twang of guitars and a series of high-pitched squeals from a throng of teenage girls.

As the triangular blue and green bunting fluttered, Dean gave me a big grin before launching into his first song. I smiled back, finding myself tapping my booted feet and nodding my head in time to the music.

Some of the fair attendees were carrying placards with the words ‘Hands off our Reserve!’ and ‘No to Ruining our Nature!’

All the work and the worry, all the concern that this event would be a flop and would achieve nothing, ebbed away at the sight of the crowd.

Even if, heaven forbid, the nature reserve didn’t survive – and a large part of me refused to even entertain the notion – at least the community would go down fighting.

I ignored my fleeting pessimism and concentrated again on Dean Ellwood. He was whipping up the growing crowd in front of him.

‘Hello.’

I stared down to see Nadia standing by my leg, looking up at me out of eyes like blue buttons. Her dark hair was swinging past her shoulders in a cute French plait.

Images of Dexter swam before my eyes as I looked down at the little girl. I dropped down to my knees in front of her. ‘Hello, you. I hope you haven’t run off again.’

She offered a cheeky smile. ‘I’m going to buy a toffee apple with sprinkles.’

‘Well, that’s good to hear.’ I cocked a cynical eyebrow at her.

‘I like dolphins. They’re my favourite.’

I admired the way her lashes tilted upwards. ‘More than unicorns?’

‘Not as much, but dolphins are cleverer.’

‘I like them too. They always seem to be smiling, don’t they?’

I wondered if she had come along to the fair with Dexter and stood up, scanning the heads of the crowd. It would be far better if he wasn’t here. Perhaps Elsa had brought her. Or her mother.

I lowered myself back down to her height. ‘Sweetheart, you didn’t run away from Mrs Bennett again, did you?’