Given that there was an enduring hollow left at the core of her being by the departure of her beloved Dennis, she nevertheless considered herself reasonably contented, responding to the rhythms of the changing seasons with pleasure and finding genuine joy in growing things . . . but attempting, less successfully, to find comfort for an inner loneliness by eating too much. Morwenna, a large middle-aged lady, not ill-favoured but with no pretensions to glamour, had now been alone for nearly twenty years and had long ago given up hope that she might find another man to love and be loved by in the second half of her life. She had certainly not come on the writing course in search of romance so it had come as a surprise to find her company consistently being sought out by the Colonel. Louisa might consider the Colonel rather a dull old stick, but he possessed great kindness and a dry sense of humour. Morwenna knew she made him laugh – without always being quite sure why – and as she had never thought of herself as at all amusing this was a novel and delightful experience. What is more, with his old-fashioned, courtly manners, he made her feel feminine, something that hadn’t happened in a very long time. The results were amazing – Morwenna began to bloom like a parched plant that has started being given regular doses of water to which nourishing pinches of Phostrogen have been added.

Two invitations had been issued the night before. The Colonel, who had privately consulted the Grants about what sort of outing they thought Morwenna might enjoy, had suggested that he should take her out to lunch at a restaurant recommended by Giles and then go to the rhododendron and azalea nurseries at Glendoich – which Morwenna had told Isobel she wanted to visit since she had so often ordered plants from them but never been there – and Christopher had asked Marnie to spend the day with him. Both these invitations had been accepted, so after they had said goodbye to Joyce, Win and Bunty and watched the minibus go off down the drive, Giles and Isobel left the Old Steading to its own devices and walked slowly back into the house.

Giles took Edward and Rory out on the loch in the boat after breakfast to troll for trout; Amy, after the excitement and tension of her performance the night before, was still just a hump under her duvet, surrounded by a wild assortment of clothes strewn all over the floor of her bedroom; Catherine, who was leaving after lunch to spend a few nights in Edinburgh with the Mercers, was packing. Isobel, counting her as family, had invited Louisa to spend the day with her and the two of them were enjoying a leisurely gossip together in the kitchen, discussing every detail of the course and its participants, when the telephone rang. Isobel picked up the receiver.