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Authors: Rachael Lucas

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On the table a baby car-seat joined a pile of box files, and the contents of several shopping bags were spilled out, as if someone had been distracted halfway through the job of unpacking.

Pulling out a tin from the larder cupboard, Jean looked pleased with herself. ‘I knew we had one of my fruitcakes left. Here, Kate, if you cut this up, we can have it with tea.’

‘Pass her back over, Roddy – she’s going to need a change in a moment.’ Emma reappeared, a muslin cloth still thrown over her shoulder from earlier. Kate jumped up,
giving her friend a hug of excitement.

‘I can’t believe you’re all
here
. All of you.’

‘You can’t? Believe me, this morning at six, when we were trying to get out of the door, I didn’t think we were going to ever make it. This one,’ said Emma, scooping her
third daughter, still milk-drunk and fast asleep, into her arms, ‘was sick three times, all over herself and me.’

Kate watched as Emma curled her sleeping daughter into her shoulder with the practised air of early motherhood.

Roderick unfolded himself from the chair, stretching unselfconsciously, his shirt riding up slightly. He caught her glancing at his stomach, with a quick grin. God, he was gorgeous!

‘Sweetheart,’ his voice was loving, ‘I’m going to grab Sam and the twins from the garden and then I’ll sort out lunch. I promised them they could help me make the
salad.’

He sneaked a kiss as he passed her in the doorway, inviting a tiny wolf whistle from Emma.

‘You two are completely gorgeous. And, you have to admit, Lady Roderick of Posh does have a certain ring to it.’

Kate rolled her eyes.

‘This place, Kate – it’s unbelievable.’ Settling herself against the Aga, Emma looked at her oldest friend with huge eyes. ‘I still can’t believe it’s
taken you nine months to move into a bloody castle. I mean, I know the cottage is sweet and all, but . . .’

‘Look, I wasn’t going to rush it. I’ve told you already.’ Kate carefully passed Emma a cup of tea, watching as she shifted the weight of the tiny, sleeping Charlotte.

‘Well, I think Kate’s done the right thing, myself.’ Jean was counting plates, and her voice came from within the larder. ‘Those two did everything upside down –
they’d been so busy playing cat-and-mouse they hadn’t done a bit of courting.’

‘That’s true, I s’pose.’ Emma drank some tea, looking at her friend appraisingly. The old Kate wouldn’t have had the self-assurance to make Roderick wait. The
island had been good for her.

‘Anyway, so now you’re giving up the cottage – have you got plans for it?’

‘I’ll explain over lunch. We’ve had an idea.’ Kate gnawed her thumbnail.

‘Oh, come on, give me a clue?’ Emma looked eager.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have one person onside with the idea, before she and Roderick dropped the bombshell over lunch. She felt another lurch of fear in her stomach.

‘Well, you remember that enormous bill for the repairs to the roof lining?’

‘The one where you had to talk Roddy out of selling the house and giving it all up, to live on a yak farm in Peru?’

‘Yep.’ God, that had been hard work. The trouble with working together was that there was no escape from each other, and the upkeep of a huge estate was an enormous stress. There
were times when she’d been very glad to march off to the cottage, which she’d insisted on keeping.

‘Well, once we’d had our first major argument, we sat down and talked about the future . . .’

Although she’d resisted moving in for what she considered a respectable amount of time – despite Roddy’s constant insistence that nobody on the island would
even
notice
what they were up to (‘Seriously, Kate, d’you think they’ve got nothing better to do than keep an eye on what our living arrangements are?’) –
Kate had already made some changes in the big house. The huge dining room that had lain untouched had been opened up, the permanently closed shutters folded back with a cloud of dust and dead
moths. Together with Susan, she’d cleared the whole room, allowing the beautiful carved furniture to speak for itself. But it was so hard to get a sense of scale in a house this size –
Kate had come home with the hugest bunch of flowers the afternoon they had finished, certain it was going to look beautiful atop the shining walnut table. They had balanced there, a tiny
exclamation mark in the centre of the room, until Roddy had come home to find Kate sitting there, covered in dust, eating a pot-noodle at one of the sixteen chairs. He’d burst out laughing,
and dinner that night had been forgotten.

Today, though, the same big table was surrounded by most of the people Kate loved best.

‘Kate, look, I’ve got all the bread – and I’ve only dropped three pieces.’ There was Jennifer, arms outstretched, a wide platter of freshly baked rolls slipping
precariously sideways.

‘Oops, Jen, let me give you some help with those.’ Scooping a balancing hand under the tray, Kate managed to flip it across to the table without any further casualties occurring.
‘What happened to the ones you dropped? Have the dogs eaten them?’

‘No!’ Jennifer looked proud. ‘I picked them up and put them back on the tray.’

‘Oh-kay.’

Nobody seemed to have noticed, because they were all engrossed in conversation.

‘Daddy says there’s a five-second rule, and we don’t have to tell Emma when I spill my breakfast on the floor when she’s feeding the baby. Shall we just make it a secret,
Kate?’

Jennifer cast her a sneaky, gap-toothed grin of complicity.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’ Kate looked at the parquet. ‘The floor’s sort of clean, isn’t it?’

Elizabeth looked at her daughter across the table, her expression suspicious. ‘What are you up to, darling?’

‘Us? Nothing at all, Mum.’ Kate winked at Jennifer, who giggled.

Looking unconvinced, Elizabeth turned back to her conversation with Morag and Ted. They’d become good friends as a result of her regular trips back to the island, ostensibly to visit Kate,
although over the summer months they had often seemed to feature ‘a little drive’ with Bruno, or an evening when they’d take a stroll along the little promenade, before watching
the sun set over a drink at the Bayview. Kate watched them with love. After so many years of loneliness and misplaced guilt, it was wonderful to see her mum enjoying herself, and Bruno was
completely entranced. He leaned closer as Kate watched, whispering something in her mother’s ear, making her laugh.

Sam’s arrival was heralded by the now-familiar squeak of Jean’s hostess trolley. Both shelves were loaded with big bowls of Roderick’s favourite Greek salad, hummus, pitta
bread and assorted olives. Discovering his love of cooking had been a genuine surprise, and a real pleasure. And not great for the figure, thought Kate, aware that her jeans were definitely getting
a bit tight.

‘Ooh, yum.’ Katharine reached forward to poke a finger in the dip, but had her finger swiped away just in time.

‘Leave that, you.’ Her dad handed her a placatory piece of bread.

The room was designed for this, thought Kate. It needs a huge gathering of people to make it make sense. This house is far too big for me and Roddy to rattle around in, occasionally taking off
the dust sheets to let visitors come round. She scooped up some dip with her bread, half-thinking, listening to Jean and Susan.

‘A “mindfulness centre”?’ Jean scoffed. ‘Too much money and not enough to do, if you ask me.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Susan, thoughtfully. ‘First of all, I quite like a wee bit of yoga myself.’

‘You need a nice walk – that’s what you need – not tying yourself up in knots. That’s not proper exercise,’ muttered Jean.

‘And anything that brings in a bit of money to the island has to be a good thing, don’t you agree, Kate? Have you heard about the plans for the old primary school?’ Susan
looked over at her friend.

Kate nodded. ‘Finn was telling us the other day – we were off to the pub for dinner, and he was all dressed up when we bumped into him.’

‘You’ll be surprised to hear this, Susan,’ said Roderick. ‘Apparently he was off out for the night, taking the new owner of this “mindfulness place” out to
dinner.’

Susan snorted. ‘Aye, that’d be right. I heard she looks like a supermodel. He’s got no shame, that one.’

‘Anyway, you two said you had something to tell us?’ Sam gave Kate a knowing look. He’d been making comments all afternoon about Roderick being broody, and Kate could tell by
his expression that he thought he had them figured out.

Kate cleared her throat and took a deep breath. She felt Roderick reach for her hand under the table.

‘Um. Well, as you’re all in one place, I think now might be the time to talk about this idea we’ve had.’ Emma looked up, giving her friend a nod of encouragement.

There was a scuffle of plates and a clatter of cutlery as everyone, realizing there was An Announcement being made, stopped eating. Kate felt a wave of panic rising, but took a breath. She and
Roderick had talked for ages about the way forward for Duntarvie House, and they were both aware that the changes they planned to make would affect everyone in the room.

‘Come on then, you two, my salad’s getting cold.’ Laughing at his own joke, Bruno turned to Elizabeth, who gave him a fond look.

‘This isn’t the kind of announcement I’m hoping for, is it?’ Susan wiggled her wedding finger at Kate and Roddy, a hopeful expression on her face. Sam patted his stomach
suggestively.

‘Not quite, no.’ Roddy turned to Kate with a smile. ‘But it does involve a wedding, so you’re not that far off.’

‘We need to find a way to make Duntarvie pay, and everyone here knows the estate isn’t exactly flourishing.’ Kate looked at Jean, who was sitting with her hands together, plate
pushed slightly to one side. Her expression was unreadable. Morag looked at Ted, who raised a questioning eyebrow. She shook her head. No, Kate could tell she was saying, I have no idea what these
two are up to.

Kate realized yet again just why Roddy had seemed so irascible when they first met. The responsibility of owning an estate was huge. He – no, they (she gave his hand a squeeze, feeling it
returned immediately) – had to consider the needs of the people who lived there, and balance them against some pretty terrifying financial questions. She’d never considered that Roddy
had to worry about money when she first met him; and it had been a long time before she’d realized that it was the rental of Oak House down in Oxfordshire that kept the estate afloat. With
Kate by his side, he’d finally felt able to sell the house in England, and the profit had covered the astronomical cost of the roof repairs, as well as paying for the development of the
visitor centre they were planning. It had also repaid an overdraft so eye-wateringly huge that Kate had counted the number of zeros on the end three times before she could believe it.

Roderick spoke, his low voice breaking through her thoughts. ‘What we realized, when we looked into it, was that this place is the perfect situation for an island wedding. We’re
lucky to be close enough to the mainland that we can catch a lot of people who might not want to travel right up to the Highlands, or to the Western Isles. We’ve come up with a plan.
We’d like to host weddings here, at Duntarvie.’

There was a long moment of silence. Elizabeth looked at her daughter, a slight frown stating very clearly that she felt she should have been first to know. Kate couldn’t help a small smile
– old habits die hard, she thought. Or perhaps that’s just being a mother. She cast a glance at Emma, who
had
been the first to know, and who, standing in the kitchen earlier,
had declared it a brilliant idea. Emma gave her a very discreet thumbs-up sign. Jennifer and Katharine both caught her in the act and echoed their stepmother, delightedly. Kate felt a wave of love
for them all.

At last Morag spoke. Glancing at Ted, she said, ‘Well, Roddy, I think your father would be very proud to hear of your plans. Estates like this have to move with the times.’

Ted nodded.

Kate felt Roddy relax slightly. One down.

‘It’s an amazing idea.’ Jean smiled at Roddy fondly. ‘You know, I’ve watched you two pull together on the cottages, and if anyone can make it work . . .’

Kate blinked away tears. They’d talked the idea round and round in circles for weeks now, first convinced that everyone would love it, and then – realizing the impact it would have
on everyone’s lives – worrying themselves sick that their plans for progress would infuriate the people they loved. Even with just one wedding a month, Ted and Morag would have hordes
of strangers passing by their quiet stable yard; and Jean – well, she’d been the mistress of Duntarvie really since Roderick’s mother had died, and now she was being presented
with a huge change.

‘Well,’ said Jean, having had a moment to reflect, ‘there’s life in this old girl yet. I’ve no plans for retiring, and I love a good wedding. Bring it on, as you
young people say.’

The whole table erupted in laughter.

‘God, what a relief.’ Roderick took a long draught of his beer. ‘We thought you’d all be horrified. It’s going to be a lot easier with you all onside.’

‘Aye, well, if you’re going to be doing weddings, Roddy, there’s maybe something you need to be thinking about yourself.’ Bruno gave him a shrewd look.

‘Lots of time for that yet, Bruno,’ said Kate, quickly. ‘We’re only just officially moving in together.’

‘Lots of time indeed.’ Elizabeth raised a glass to her daughter, an expression of pride on her face. ‘Here’s to Kate and Roddy. And to the future.’

Rachael Lucas’s
Secret Escapes

Kate disappeared off to the Island of Auchenmor to escape reality, and I thought I’d share some of my favourite escapes with you.

The Highlands of Scotland
are home for me, although I moved away when I was a young girl. When I go back there, it’s full of memories. Rainy days in
welly boots holding my Nanny’s hand as we’d take a trip to the cafe for a bun and a lemonade. Feeding the ducks by the river in Forres, and climbing Cluny Hill. Pan drop mints and white
pudding suppers. Splashing in all weathers in the Moray Firth, and taking a trip to visit the clootie well across the water on the Black Isle. Standing in the eerie silence of Culloden, where
legend has it the birds have never sung since the great battle of 1746 (and I’ve never heard one). The magic of Macbeth and standing in Cawdor dreaming of the stories coming to life. The
skies are bigger, the air is clearer. And there’s a monster to search for in Loch Ness. There’s something for everyone there, and I don’t think I’d ever get bored.

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