‘Cardiology has always been your dream.’ She grinned. ‘And New York. Film stars, penthouses, pastrami sandwiches, cheesecake. All you’ve ever wanted.’

‘I’ll be a broke post-grad living in a dorm and doing tutoring to keep myself in pastrami sandwiches.’

‘Congratulations,’ she said sincerely. ‘I’ll miss you,’ she added, which was true too. Alex was still the friend of intellectual adventures. And unless she won the lottery, she couldn’t speculate with him for three hours on an international phone call about the potential role of various herpes viruses. And even then, it wouldn’t be the same. Alex would have others to speculate with . . . ‘Will Kate go with you?’ she added.

‘Kate and I broke up last week.’ He made it sound as if it didn’t matter, which it probably didn’t to Alex, or he’d have mentioned it earlier. Scarlett hoped Kate felt the same. Possibly she did, for the relationship had only lasted a few weeks, which was a record for Alex. But he knew how to be steadfast as a friend. Yes, she would miss him terribly . . .

Alex swallowed his third bite of tart. ‘That isn’t what I came to tell you.’

‘What then?’

‘The Edinburgh fellowship involves working with a research team on paediatric muscular disorders. The dean hopes you’ll apply.’

And if I apply, I’ll get it, she thought. Her marks were even higher than Alex’s. Plus the dean — the entire staff — had shown a complete lack of tact in trying to steer their most brilliant student away from GP work in a country town and into something more challenging and prestigious.

Six years back, still permanently partnered with her wheelchair, her professional future seemed limited to a residency at the Gibber’s Creek Hospital. She had not even thought to dream beyond it. Now, suddenly, Scarlett Kelly-O’Hara, the girl who had not even been able to steer her own wheelchair till adolescence, had a chance to soar across the world, even if she would need to pack her wheelchair too.

To a land with no blue bees. No William. No extended family, and a community that was family too. No Sunday afternoons with Leafsong, washing up at the Blue Belle just to enjoy the companionship of the first real friend she’d had, no breakfasts with Jed and Sam and Mattie, no bicycling with Mattie down to Moura, no dusk swims with William or nights held in his arms.

Scotland. Her own life, not supported by Jed’s money, living in the flat Jed had bought for her, carefully modified for the wheelchair she so rarely needed these days, just as others had so carefully arranged a fulfilled life for her ever since she was a baby.

Scarlett Kelly-O’Hara, independent, working with the top researchers in the field . . .