Page 84 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

The lady squinted at me out of friendly, sky-blue, lined eyes. ‘Ah. You’re Tilda’s granddaughter.’

‘I am, yes.’

The lady bent down, clipped on Teddy’s lead and shook my hand. ‘I’m Gwen Montrose. I used to manage the local post office.’

‘Rosie Winters.’

She sighed. ‘I’m so sorry about your grandma. She was such a sweet woman.’

‘Thank you.’

We ambled away together back up towards the path with our dogs snuffling on leads either side.

‘And you’re staying in their cottage?’ She pulled a comical face. ‘Sorry, but you can’t keep many things secret around here.’

‘Yes. For the time being.’

The waves rocked below us as we negotiated our way back up the path.

We reached the top and Gwen nodded over at the cottage. ‘They were devoted to each other, your grandparents. Not many marriages like that anymore.’

Joe pinged into my mind. ‘No, you can say that again.’

She offered a pleasant smile. ‘Well, very nice to meet you, Rosie.’

‘And you.’ I made to open the garden gate, when a thought made me pause. ‘Wait. Sorry. Gwen?’

She spun round and encouraged Teddy back on his navy-blue lead. ‘Yes?’

I raised my chin from out of my green scarf. ‘I don’t suppose you know a woman called Ruth Mangan?’

Gwen’s pink waterproof crackled in the stiff wind. I noticed a strange look pass across her face. ‘Ruth Mangan?’

‘She owns the Lumiere art gallery?’

‘Aye. I know who she is.’ She paused. ‘I was never friendly with the likes of her. Served her in the post office but that was as far as my dealings with her went.’ She looked pensive.

The clouds bumped and jostled against each other over the bay.

‘She… She blamed your grandma for how things turned out for her, which was ridiculous.’

My eyes popped. ‘Why? What happened? What was my grandmother supposed to have done?’

Gwen started to move away in her heavy, black and pink walking boots. ‘I’d speak to one of the former members of the local art society if I were you. Your grandma was a member at one time.’ She cajoled Teddy away. ‘Very unnecessary business, all of it. Your grandma didn’t deserve to be treated that way.’

I stood there, with more questions than answers whirling around my head like cartoon canaries, as Gwen and her dog hurried away.

* * *

While I pottered for the rest of the day, taking Bronte out again, putting on laundry and debating whether to respond to more messages from Mia and Lola, I kept checking my phone. I was even more desperate for Kirsty Ralston to call me back, after Gwen’s cryptic conversation down by the bay.

But despite willing my phone to ring, she didn’t return my call.

The next morning, I had my breakfast, showered, dressed, and was just slipping on Bronte’s lead to take her out on her first walk of the day when my phone jumped in my pocket.

Kirsty Ralston’s jolly voice slid into my ear as she introduced herself. ‘Tilda’s granddaughter! Oh, my word! She was so proud of you! She was always showing me photographs of you.’

I let out a playful groan. ‘I hope she didn’t bore you too much.’ I paused. ‘So, you knew my grandma?’