Dear Dan,

I’m dictating this letter to Betty in the office, because my handwriting now looks as if an inebriated spider has fallen into an inkwell and then crawled across the paper. For this reason, you will probably find not one of my usual expletives written down, because Betty is a very good editor. (Patrick wants me to write here that that is not what he said, but I am not going to type that kind of a word. By the way, I hope that you are well and keeping your spirits up.)

I was sorry not to have had the chance to say goodbye, but Kate told me about the job and I am delighted for you, although I am sure that it would have tasted a good deal sweeter if you had not been faced with such a devastating domestic crisis on your return. I do hope that you and the girls are being able to cope all right. Anyway, Kate and I keep sending huge amounts of love and strength to all three of you down the airwaves!

We had Josh for Christmas and he was obviously quite subdued after learning about it all, but the children loved having him with us. I think that he’s heading off to Edinburgh for New Year with Maria José, so that should cheer him up a bit. I decided that he needed a bit of a boost just before Christmas so I sent him down to Oban for a couple of days to get a bit of work experience with Ronnie Macaskill. Ronnie kept him for a week! He said that the boy is a natural buyer and has ‘a good eye for a prawn’! Definitely his father’s son, Ronnie said. He also asked me to send on his best wishes to you, and said that if you’re ever wanting another game of shinty, all you have to do is pick up the phone!

Your dogs seem to have taken up permanent residence at Auchnacerie. The kids think they’re wonderful, although Biggles was definitely ‘persona non grata’ over Christmas, having grabbed the stuffing off the kitchen table before Kate had the chance to ram it into the turkey!

I managed to get out of hospital a week after you left. Can’t stand those places. I’m not much good at the minute, though. That wretched chest infection rather took its toll, so the walking sticks have been retired and I’m on wheels all the time now. But I’m still live and kicking, and Pete Jackson and Bob Murray, the guy who joined us from Ocean Produce, are managing to keep the business up and running.

But, Dan, what I really wanted to say in this letter was how much I have appreciated your help and your friendship over these past few months. I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a time in my life more. I will remember with great fondness our trips together to Mallaig and all the laughs that you gave me. Talking of which, remember that dreadful man, Maxwell Borthwick? (BMW and forklift truck ring a bell!?) Well, I think that I managed to deflate his ego once and for all. I won’t bore you with the details, but it was a wonderfully enjoyable experience!

Most of all, though, I want to thank you for the support that you gave Kate when I was in hospital in Inverness. This illness is a bugger (He made me put that—Betty) and sometimes it has been extremely hard for me to give the kind of support that Kate is in most need of. (Bad English—won’t let me change it!) You are a good, compassionate man, Dan Porter, and I feel blessed in knowing that it was you who was at Kate’s side when she needed most the strength and understanding of a true friend. And that’s exactly what you are—to all the Trenchard family.

Keep well, Dan, and I hope that very soon you saddle up your horse and ride back into Cowboy Country. We’ll have the steaks sizzling and the coffee pot on the stove when you do!

With very best wishes,

Patrick