“Are you sure...”

“It’s as simple as that.”

“Right.” Laurel’s mind spun. She couldn’t really hare off to Orkney Island for Christmas, could she, no matter what she’d been thinking a few moments ago, when the thought of Eilidh’s cosy welcome had loomed, bright and hopeful, a mumsy figure for both her and Zac, someone to take care of everything?

What if Abby needed to get in touch? What if she minded? What if Zac refused?

And yet...Orkney. A memory of sitting curled up in front of Eilidh’s fire while the sun set over the beach outside, sending golden rays slanting through the sashed window...feeling entirely at peace, as if all was right with the world. Knowing there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

“Let me work on a few things here,” Laurel said impulsively. “And then I’ll ring you back. Thank you so much for the offer, Aunt Eilidh. You’re brilliant.”

“It’s my pleasure, Laurel,” Eilidh answered, a trace of sorrow in her voice. “I hope you always know that.”

“I do,” Laurel answered, and she heard the same sorrow in her voice too, like a whisper from the past. She wished she’d kept in better touch with her aunt over the years. She wished her father had taken them to Orkney when they were children, and those magical summers had continued, stretching on to a golden horizon, shared memories that might have knit her and Abby, Eilidh, and her father, together all those years ago.

But he hadn’t, and they hadn’t, and here they were, all of them separate and isolated in their own ways.

“Thank you for the offer,” Laurel said, meaning every word. “Let me see if I can make it happen.”

––––––––

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About the Author

After spending three years as a diehard New Yorker, Kate Hewitt now lives in the Lake District in England with her husband, their five children, and a Golden Retriever. She enjoys such novel things as long country walks and chatting with people in the street, and her children love the freedom of village life—although she often has to ring four or five people to figure out where they’ve gone off to.