‘Come on,’ she said, pulling her husband to his feet. ‘I’m determined to teach you how to do this properly.’

Clare watched the pair head off to join the dancers.

‘Fancy it?’ the DCI said.

She shook her head. ‘I’d hate to make a mistake in front of the teacher.’

He laughed. ‘Come on, then. We’ve done our bit. Let’s go and hide in the room.’

They elected to climb the thickly carpeted stairs rather than take the lift. ‘I’ll tell you this much,’ Clare said, stepping out of her heels and stopping to pick them up. ‘I am not having breakfast with Bridezilla down there.’

‘I’m with you on that,’ the DCI said. ‘Let’s have it sent to the room.’

‘DCI Gibson! We are not made of money.’

‘I’ll pay. Anything other than watching you glaring at the bride over your granola.’

‘To hell with granola. I’m having the full Scottish.’

They reached their room and the DCI retrieved the key from his sporran. The bed had been turned down and the lamps lit. An ice bucket with a bottle of champagne sat on a side table.

‘Oh, Al,’ she said. ‘How lovely of you.’ The door swung closed behind them and the DCI took Clare in his arms. ‘I’ve been wanting to do this all day.’

She allowed herself to sink in, smelling his cologne, and feeling his hand in her hair. They stood for a minute and then she raised her face to meet his and found his lips.

Day 2: Sunday

Chapter 3

She was awake long before breakfast arrived. The DCI found her in the en suite, texting Chris.

‘Seriously?’ he said, rubbing his forehead. ‘You couldn’t wait a few hours?’

Clare shrugged. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

‘Any particular reason?’

‘Just wondered what’s happening.’

He hesitated. Then he said, ‘Clare, why did we come here? To this wedding, I mean.’

She looked at him. ‘I dunno. Because they invited us, I suppose.’

‘You could have pleaded work, or said we’d booked a holiday.’

She nodded. ‘Yeah. Probably should have.’

‘So, Tom – you are over him, aren’t you?’

She stared.

‘It’s just that, well, you seemed on edge all day yesterday, even before Chris called. I couldn’t help wondering…’

She rose from her perch on the bidet. ‘Come on. Let’s get back into bed for a couple of hours. It’s going to be a long day.’

He stood back to let her out of the bathroom and watched her move towards the bed. ‘So you’re not struggling with Tom marrying Gillian?’

She glanced at him. ‘I dunno, Al. It’s not that I wish I was still with Tom. I, well, I find it hard he’s married someone so different to me. It makes me wonder if he thinks our years together were a waste.’