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Prologue
‘I think Mum would have been pleased by the turnout,’ said Amy as she and her sisters, Kirsty and Emma, filed out of the church and followed their dad into the bright sunshine.
It was a glorious spring morning and the sky was a beautiful azure blue with just a few fluffs of white cloud. Clumps of bright daffodils bloomed against the red sandstone building, bringing flashes of yellow to the very sombre day. Daffodils and bluebells were their mum’s favourite flowers and the girls had managed to fill the church with them. They had all been grateful that she’d managed to cling on to life long enough to see the start of spring and the flowers begin to bloom. She had passed away two weeks ago, after battling ovarian cancer, with her three daughters and husband at her side.
‘She would have loved having everyone gathered together like this,’ said Kirsty, nodding her head.
‘Yes,’ said Emma. ‘All her favourite people in one place, wearing something blue or yellow as she wanted, the sun shining and gazillions of daffodils and bluebells. And the water looking at its best.’ She gestured at the bay in front of them, the sea glassy and bright.
They were on the Isle of Arran off the west coast of Scotland. The stunning coastline curved its way around the island and while their village of Brodick, on the east coast, had a sandy cove, the island had its fair share of pebble beaches and outcrops too. Arran was known as Scotland in miniature and rightly so for all that it offered. The Highland boundary fault ran through it, dividing the mountainous highland landscape on one side from lush green lowland countryside on the other.
The guests had started to drift out of the car park, no doubt heading back to the wake. The girls gathered around their dad, who had paused to dab his eyes with a handkerchief embroidered with his initials.
He looked lost. ‘It just all feels so surreal,’ he said, staring at the ground.
That morning, while getting ready, he had unscrewed the lid from his wife’s jar of face cream and sniffed it. He’d told his daughters that he could picture her standing there beside him, massaging it into her cheeks as she used to do each morning.
Kirsty squeezed his hand. ‘It’s okay, Dad,’ she said, managing to keep her voice steady. But her eyes welled up.
He smiled at them all, evidently thankful to have them with him. Amy linked her arm through his and Kirsty joined her husband, Steve, and their twins, Tom and Becky, who were waiting at the gate with Emma’s partner, Max.
‘Come on, girls,’ said Max. ‘We should get back to the house. People will be waiting.’
* * *
The wake was being held at Meadowbank Cottage, the family home the girls had all been raised in. It was now run as a B&B by Kirsty and Steve who had moved there with the twins fifteen years ago from their tiny London flat when their dad and mum had decided to downsize.
Family friend Edie was already at the house and was in charge of making sure everyone pitched in to hand out platters of sandwiches and mini quiches the girls had prepared earlier. Living on an island had several frustrations: there was no Amazon Prime delivery, or Marks and Spencer treats on hand, but there were so many other advantages and Kirsty wouldn’t swap it for anywhere else.
Kirsty smiled gratefully at Edie who was refilling the kettle at the kitchen sink as they all entered. ‘Thanks so much for helping. But you go and sit down now and have a cup of tea.’
Edie reached over to hug Kirsty. ‘I’m just so sorry, my love. Your mum will be very missed.’
Amy puffed her cheeks out and exhaled. ‘I keep expecting her to come through that door.’
Edie smiled kindly at her. ‘I know, dear. It all feels very strange. When do you head back to Vancouver?’
Amy had been living in Canada for the past four years. She frowned and chewed her lip. ‘I don’t know . . .’
‘You need to get on with your own life,’ Dad said, patting her hand as he made his way to a seat at the kitchen table. ‘The last thing your mum would want is for you to mope around. It’s the same for Emma, she has her own life in Edinburgh to go back to.’
‘He’s right,’ said Kirsty. ‘Mum was just glad that you made it back in time to see her.’
Amy choked back a sob and moved into Dad’s arms for a hug. Emma followed suit, as did Kirsty and they all held each other.
Kirsty mouthed her thanks to Edie who gave a sad smile and retreated into the lounge, taking a fresh pot of tea with her.
Their mum’s death had rocked them to their very cores and all their hearts were broken. None of them knew how on earth they could move forward without her in their lives, but each of the girls knew that they owed it to her memory to do their best.
Chapter One
Two Years Later
Kirsty was reaching down to take a tray of shortbread from the oven when she heard the crunch of tyres on the gravel driveway outside. Frowning, she glanced at the clock and wondered who it might be. The next guests weren’t due to arrive until after 2 p.m. and Steve was on the other side of the island on a walking tour to the King’s Caves.
She carefully placed the hot tray on a wire rack and looked out of the window, briefly admiring the creamy pink clematis tumbling over the fence and the view ahead. Her heart soared every time she looked at the sparkling bay stretched out before her.
It was Steve’s car. That was strange, she thought, something must be wrong.
