Page 26 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

Mitch took a moment to digest what I’d just called him. His handsome face was impassive. Then he started to laugh. His eyes crinkled. I noticed he had white teeth and prominent canines. ‘Captain Birdseye?!’

It wasn’t like me to be so rude, but I didn’t feel in control of anything anymore.

‘You’ve put me in the mood for a fishfinger sandwich now.’

‘Oh, I’m delighted you’re finding this situation so amusing.’ I threw him a look. ‘There’s really no need to help. I’ll find her myself, thank you.’

The sand was melting with the splashes of the water, and the rocks glistened. The wind was unforgiving. What if Bronte had ventured into the water and got into difficulties? I remembered my grandparents speaking about the depth of the water being deceptive. They always used to warn me not to venture too far out and would never let me come down to the bay to swim on my own.

Fearful tears were on the brink of slipping down my cheeks. All I wanted was my Bronte back, safe and sound.

I should never have burst out of the front door like that. To lose Bronte, my little constant companion, was a horrific thought at any time, but right now it was especially inconceivable.

Bronte had always lain beside my chair whilst I was toiling over a book, acting as my sounding board when I was debating character names or convinced that my latest plot wasn’t working. She’d lie there, her fluffy paws like furry trousers, lifting her head to look up at me with those curious eyes of hers while I ranted and raved about my latest draft being crap and that the plot had more holes than a tea bag.

Oh well. At least she wouldn’t need to do that anymore.

I yelled Bronte’s name into the sea air, as did Mitch. I snapped round to look at him.

‘I’m not leaving you here in this state, trying to find your dog on your own.’

I opened my mouth to protest, but Mitch was unrepentant. ‘Stop being so bloody-minded and accept help when it’s offered.’

My cheeks flamed with colour.

‘Look, I know you were close to Mr Hogan and that I have big boots to fill, but I’m only trying to do my job.’

I flashed him a chilly glance from under my curls.

God, he was annoying. But he was helping me.

Mitch shouted for Bronte again, but there was nothing. No answering barks. No sign of her flapping ears as she charged towards me. No waggling tail thrashing from side to side in greeting.

I craned my ears, hoping against hope that I’d detect her cheerful yaps or she’d come scampering out from somewhere, but all I could hear was the water and the odd screech from the gulls. ‘This is down to me,’ I gulped, picking up speed along the sand. ‘It’s my fault she’s lost.’

‘No, it isn’t.’

I rubbed at my face. ‘Yes. It is. Please stop trying to make me feel better. She was trying to protect me.’

‘Ms Winters. Stop beating yourself up over it. We’ll find her. Hey! Look at Kane.’

I turned around, shoving my hair out of my frantic eyes. Kane had gone from snuffling his big, black, sooty nose along the shoreline, to suddenly picking up his pace. His tail wagged.

With a glance back at Mitch, he took off across the top of the sand like a speeding gold and black bullet. His muscly back shifted as he moved, almost galloping on his sinewy legs like a racehorse.

He was flying, jumping over the odd rock in the sand and stippled clumps of grasses as though they weren’t there.

He stopped, raised his proud head and savoured the sea air. Then he bounded away again.

There was a bigger, broader set of rocks sandwiched together at the further end of the bay.

Kane paused and looked straight at them. Mitch shoved his black hair back from his face. ‘He’s found something.’

We started running towards the rocks, in hot pursuit of Kane.

My heart dared to lift, as Kane concentrated on the cluster of grey rocks at the far end of the beach.

The sea air lashed through our hair and against our faces as we raced across the wet sand. Kane scrambled over the top of the rocks, vanishing with one brush of his tail over the other side.