Page 66 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

Bronte gave me her usual, enthusiastic welcome. Outside, the flakes were becoming fatter, as they spun down from the sky.

I’d finished giving Bronte her breakfast, eaten my cereal, and was just about to head for a shower when my mobile rang from my bedroom. I dashed down the hallway to answer it.

Mitch’s name popped up on the screen.

I found myself wrapping my fluffy dressing gown tighter and fiddling unnecessarily with my bun.

‘Hi. Sleep well?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I did, thanks, despite finding myself caught up in an art conspiracy.’

There was an impatient sigh. ‘Och Rosie,’ he growled. ‘We’re hardly stealing the Mona Lisa.’

He didn’t give me a chance to come back with a reply. ‘Are you busy this afternoon?’

My cheeks zinged. I wasn’t busy. I was never busy now. I hadn’t been busy since I got here. I was intending on doing a little more sorting of Grandma’s studio after lunch, but I could do some of that this morning. ‘Er … no… Not too much on today.’

‘Well, in that case, you could come over about two if you like. I’ve had an email from our friendly neighbourhood gallery owner.’

‘Was it written in blood?’

Mitch laughed. ‘Not quite.’

‘What did the email say?’

‘She wants to start getting preparations underway for opening night. I think we should discuss it.’

‘Okay. I can take Bronte out for a quick walk before coming over.’

‘Great,’ he replied. ‘And feel free to bring her with you. She can keep Kane company.’ He paused. ‘Oh, and take care when you make your way over. The forecast said it’s due to get worse later.’

I showered, threw on a cosy jumper, jeans and thick socks and after letting Bronte out for a charge around the snowy garden, checked out my emails on my phone.

Mia had sent me a message, to say that Snow, I’ll Always Love You had shot up to number five in the Amazon charts. A glimmer of happiness lit up briefly in my chest, before fizzling out again like a firework. I’d been so preoccupied with everything, I hadn’t even thought about checking out my book sales and rankings.

Before all this, I would’ve been glued to Amazon, checking my reviews and refreshing the rankings every half an hour.

I spent the remainder of the morning tidying up more of Grandma’s studio for something to do and filling a couple more black bin liners with tatty stationery and threadbare paint brushes.

Then I began the difficult process of choosing which of her paintings should be exhibited. She had such a varied mix of artwork it was hard to decide which should make the cut. I did remember, though, the ones Ruth Mangan had already seen when Mitch had taken them into the gallery, and so I ensured they were put to one side. We didn’t want to show our hand too early.

* * *

I ended up losing myself in more of Grandma’s journals and time ran away from me.

I had intended to rustle up some cheese and tomato on toast for my lunch, but just grabbed an apple and a protein bar instead before taking Bronte down to the snow-encrusted bay for her afternoon walk. The water was swishing in a restless, icy blue motion, and the sky overhead was pearly white. Feathery flakes were still tumbling down and vanishing into the water. It was a magical, wintery scene, but there was a foreboding hush.

I clamped my crocheted green hat tighter down over my curls and buried my gloved hands into my coat pockets.

We started to head back up the path and in the direction of the lighthouse, Bronte skittering through the snow, her tail swinging from side to side like a brown feather duster.

She did a couple of zoomies and the chilly stillness stung my cheeks as we both carefully negotiated the winding path.

Looking down at Rowan Bay again, the cliffs sat there, hunched under shrouds of white. The snow was definitely coming down thicker and faster than it had been this morning.

I knocked on the lighthouse door, but Mitch was standing waiting for me at the entrance to his bothy. He shouted over from his accommodation. ‘Hey! Over here!’ A tail-wagging Kane was stationed beside him. ‘Come in. Quick!’

He beckoned me inside and helped me remove my coat. I was aware of him standing right behind me. His cool breath danced against the nape of my neck. I thrust my hat and scarf at him, wanting to put space between us.