‘How the bloody hell is this trip going to be fun, Thomas?’ I refuse to look round, sense Maddie’s eyes boring into my back.

‘Oh come on, sis,’ Thomas says. ‘Don’t be like that. We’ve got so much to catch up on.’ My brother seems oblivious to the suffocating tension in the car, or the fact we are heading to where we last saw our sister; that Drummondale House was the last place Mum smiled.

Dad gets into the driver’s seat and closes the door.

I finally snatch a glance over my shoulder, and Thomas grabs the moment to smile my way. He may be twenty-eight, but I still see my little brother sitting there, and recall how we used to run and play together. But that was long before he took off to America – long before his accident.

I return his smile, and turn watery eyes back to the front window.

‘Should we be going in this?’ I ask Dad as he starts the engine. ‘The snow is pretty heavy.’

‘It doesn’t look great, does it?’ Dad agrees, flicking on the wipers. He leans forward and looks up through the window towards the sky.

‘Of course we should go,’ Thomas says. ‘It will be fine. I’m psyched up for it now.’

‘I don’t know, it looks a bit scary,’ Maddie says.

‘Well, let’s give it a go, and turn back if it gets too bad,’ Dad says, putting the car in gear, and pulling away.

It will take over four hours to get to Drummondale House, so I bring out my phone, shove in my ear buds, and begin trawling through YouTube videos, particularly enjoying a video of a cavalier puppy being taught to high-five and roll over. Eventually, despite not being tired, my eyes grow heavy – and sleep with its awful nightmares of a year ago beckons.

I’m going to where I last saw Lark.

A sense of foreboding rises. Why do I feel this is the biggest mistake of my life?

Chapter 3

Present Day

Amelia

The first two hours of the ride is silent, and by the time we get to the services in Perth, the snow has turned to rain now lashing across the windscreen.

Dad pulls onto the forecourt. ‘Need to stretch my legs,’ he says. And we take the opportunity to grab a takeaway.

Dad and I get out of the car, and race towards the McDonald’s, and despite him using his coat as a makeshift umbrella for us both, rain splatters down my collar, making me shiver.

We are silent in the queue. We are silent returning with the burgers. We are silent while we eat in the car.

‘Well at least the snow’s cleared,’ Dad says finally, finishing the last of his burger and screwing up the wrapper. ‘I was beginning to worry we would end up snowed in in the Scottish Highlands.’ He laughs. ‘Imagine that.’