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PROLOGUE
Gabriel handed Iris a glass of champagne, and then gave one to Esme, his fingers shaking slightly on the stem.
“I didn’t drink at all at the christening, so I’m allowed this,” Esme said. She looked over at Iris. “Thank you for inviting us back here. It’s lovely to be able to relax now that it’s finally over.”
Iris smiled. “You deserve it.”
“It was a great day, though.” Hugh raised his glass. “Here’s to Hamish. And his mum, of course.”
“And to you,” Gabriel said. “The proud father.”
The four of them drank, and Esme gave a contented sigh. “Gosh, I’ve missed this so much.”
Hugh raised his glass again. “Iris, Gabriel, it’s been one hell of a summer. Here’s to happier times.”
A silence fell on the group. Gabriel cleared his throat. “Thank you, Hugh. As you said—”
An almighty explosion, followed by the panicked rustling of birds taking flight from the trees drowned out the rest of his words. Iris’sheart thudded, echoing theboomstill reverberating in the air. And then, deathly silence.
For a few seconds, they were a tableau frozen in time. Gabriel and Hugh standing, their champagne glasses in their hands, their heads turned toward the sound of the explosion; Iris, the alarm in her eyes mirrored in Esme’s. Even baby Hamish paused in his nuzzling, and Esme, the instinct to protect her child automatically taking over, tightened her arms around him. Reassured, he went back to drinking, his tiny legs kicking under his blanket, the only movement in the stillness.
“I hope that wasn’t the house,” Esme joked, breaking the spell the explosion had cast over them. “Not after all our hard work.”
“Maybe I should—” Hugh stopped mid-sentence, his attention caught by something. Iris followed his line of vision and saw black smoke billowing into the sky.
In the distance a siren wailed, then became louder.
Gabriel turned to Hugh. “Shall we go and take a look?”
“Good idea. It looks a bit too close to home for comfort,” Hugh added, his voice low. He looked over at Esme. “We won’t be long.”
Esme waited until they’d left. “As long as Joseph hasn’t blown himself up,” Esme said, detaching Hamish from her breast and shifting him to the other side. “I’m so disappointed in him.” Hamish settled, she stretched out her free hand and laid it on Iris’s arm. “Thank you for taking him home before he became completely out of control.”
“I only suggested taking him home because I didn’t want everyone to see him in that state.” Iris paused. “Do you think he fell off the wagon before today and managed to hide it from everyone?”
“I don’t know, but I’m furious, and disappointed and everything else in between. I’m beginning to regret asking him to be Hamish’s godfather.” She looked suddenly nervous. “He didn’t say anything, did he, when you and Hugh took him home? He tends to shout his mouth off when he’s drunk.”
“No,” Iris said. “Don’t worry.”
“I should have been upfront with Hugh in the first place,” Esme fretted.
“It doesn’t matter now. Joseph is leaving tomorrow, isn’t he?”
“If he’s sober enough.” She moved Hamish to her shoulder and began to pat his back and, as Iris listened to her chattering about the christening, and how lovely it had been, an extraordinary sense of well-being flowed through her body. For the first time in months, she felt at peace.
“Oh, they’re back!” Esme exclaimed.
Iris turned her head toward the terrace, but before she could register that anything was wrong, Esme had thrust Hamish into her arms and was hurrying across the lawn toward Hugh. Alarmed, Iris caught Gabriel’s eye, and her heart dropped at the desolation on his face. Moving Hamish to her shoulder, she took comfort from the warm, sleepy weight of him and, as she began rubbing his back, her eyes fixed worriedly on Hugh and Esme, he obligingly expelled little pockets of milky air. And then a wail started, and at first she thought it was coming from Hamish.
But it wasn’t Hamish, it was Esme, weeping brokenly in Hugh’s arms.
FOUR MONTHS BEFORE
1
Iris thought they’d never get home. Oban to Markham, five hundred and twenty miles, journey time nine hours without stops. They’d left at ten this morning, and it was now ten in the evening. No wonder they were both shattered.
It wasn’t meant to be this way. They were meant to have broken their journey with an overnight stop in York, and only arrive home tomorrow. Iris had booked a beautiful hotel and if everything had gone to plan, they would have finished dinner by now and would be heading up to bed. Instead, they were heading down the hill into Markham.
