Page 73 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

‘I tried to tell Noah what he was doing was stupid,’ carried on Mitch, seemingly oblivious to my increasingly delicate state. ‘I shouted at him and so did Tim, the other instructor. From the moment Noah arrived at the centre, he was larking around. He was always acting the clown, being sarcastic and taking the mickey out of our authority.’ Mitch’s voice carried an element of anger. ‘I got the impression that he was used to being surrounded by money and didn’t hear the word “no” very often.’

‘But you can’t keep punishing yourself over what happened. You lost your business.’ I pressed my lips together in thought. ‘Why don’t you just admit it? That’s the reason why you’re doing what you’re doing with Tilda’s work.’

Mitch looked awkward. He shook his head. ‘No.’ His voice was steely. After a few moments, he rubbed at his stubbly chin. ‘Okay, maybe a bit.’

He sank back against a cushion. ‘I bet this all sounds really pathetic to you.’

I took in the way his curls were falling messily forward onto his brow. A deep ripple of something shot through me. ‘No. Not at all. I get it.’

Mitch gave a wry smile. ‘It wasn’t just my business I lost. That was just the start of it. After what happened with Noah, my marriage collapsed.’

I let out a shocked gasp. ‘Your wife didn’t stand by you after what happened?’

‘Not long after I lost the business, Romilly left me. She said she couldn’t cope with the fallout from everything. She blamed me for the financial predicament we found ourselves in at the time. We had to sell our house and cars to stay above water and pay the compensation to Noah’s father.’

I rubbed my neck. Poor Mitch. ‘I’m sorry.’ I paused before asking him another question. ‘Do you have children?’

‘No, Romilly never wanted them. She was always a career girl.’ Mitch shrugged. ‘If she’d really loved me, she’d have stuck by me. That’s what I soon came to realise. We’ve been separated two years now. She moved away to London.’

I took a side glance out of the sitting room window. The snow was still falling, swamping everything in thick, white layers of icing that looked impenetrable.

‘How about you?’ he asked. ‘Do you have kids?’

I blinked back my intended plan of starting a family with Joe, once I’d got my next book written and out of the way. ‘No. No children either.’

We both sat there, studying one another. The atmosphere had changed. Now I understood what that journalist had wanted to speak to Mitch about. No wonder he wanted to seclude himself in this remote location. There was an understanding, charged with something else that I couldn’t quite decipher. It was as if an electric current was sparking between the two of us, illuminating the room. I couldn’t believe I’d just told Mitch about what Joe had done and the guilt that I’d been carrying around, like some lead weight, before Greta’s letter and photographs arrived. I hadn’t intended on telling Mitch as much as I had – if anything – but he’d teased it out of me.

Time seemed to drift like the snow outside.

‘And that’s when you decided to become a lighthouse keeper?’ I asked him. ‘After what happened?’

Mitch stretched his legs out further across the rug. ‘After Romilly and I split up, I wondered what the hell I was going to do next. My life felt like it had shattered in front of my eyes.’ He shrugged. ‘I’d always wanted to study outdoor education and did a degree at Stirling University when I was seventeen. I graduated when I was twenty-two, worked for six years in the States at a couple of centres, then came back to the UK and finally opened up Rock ’n’ Ramble six years ago.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Everything was going great. I met Romilly when her agency started work on a PR campaign for us and we got married soon after.’

‘And the decision to become a lighthouse keeper?’

‘Solitude, the sea, the challenge, the change in lifestyle, helping people.’ He gave a slight nod of confirmation as he spoke. ‘I happened to spot an advert for Barclay’s vacancy online, and I thought, why not? They wanted someone quickly and I was desperate to just leave everything behind.’ He shrugged. ‘The advert listed the sort of attributes they were looking for – good communication skills, fitness, organisational abilities – and as I wanted away from everyone and everything after what happened with Noah Colton, I thought living in the Scottish Highlands, looking after a lighthouse, was the perfect solution.’ Mitch almost smiled. ‘I’d been working as a forestry guide in the Lake District after Noah’s accident, but I knew it wasn’t for me. I was craving somewhere where I could try and come to terms with everything and the people I’d let down. I didn’t want to be around anyone.’ Kane raised his big, beige and black head at his master. Mitch gave Kane an affectionate rub. ‘Aye, apart from you, you big lump.’

Mitch stood up and clicked on a couple of lamps. ‘Being a lighthouse keeper isn’t just a job, though. I’ve learnt that very quickly. It’s a way of life.’

‘Barclay used to say that. His father, grandfather and great-grandfather were all keepers of the same lighthouse here.’

‘Aye. So I read. Albert, John and Nathaniel Hogan respectively. The Hogan lighthouse legacy around these parts is one hell of a responsibility to live up to. I intend to do them justice.’

I glanced towards the sitting room window, the curtain of white disappearing into the dark. In the distance, the silhouettes of snow suspended from the cliff face and the rooftops look like ghostly apparitions.

Mitch had resumed his seat in his armchair. ‘Do you know that one of the definitions of a lighthouse is “a beacon of light providing a sense of direction, safety and hope”?’

Even though my eyes were growing heavy, his words clutched at my heart. We all needed that.

I blinked across at him. Barclay would’ve approved of Mitch’s appointment. He was hard-working and dedicated. Good grief. How could Romilly have abandoned him like that? Just when he needed her more than ever? She must’ve been crazy. His serious face was beginning to waver in front of my eyes. I was struggling to focus.

A cosy, muzzy feeling wrapped itself around me and wouldn’t let go. It was like we were snug in this glowing, private little haven, with the snow whirling outside. The fire popped and cracked.

Mitch was sitting there, looking delectably dishevelled, and our two dogs were snuggled side by side.

It was the safest, most contented and relaxed I could remember feeling for a long while.

I offered Mitch a lazy, tipsy flicker of a smile and I saw him roll his eyes. Then he grinned back. He had that sort of smile that made you want to smile back at him.