At that moment Giles and the boys came up to the outside door and Giles tapped on the glass and indicated two wet figures, both Edward and Rory having succeeded in stepping into the loch while getting out of the boat. They were full of happy giggles as Giles attempted to pull off their sodden wellington boots. It was such a happy, casual, outdoor scene, such a normal sort of Glendrochatt occurrence, that as Isobel went out to help remove wet garments – Edward’s lack of coordination still making occasional assistance necessary with tricky clothing – she dreaded the thought of what she had to say to Rory. Her heart lurched further when she wondered how Edward, whose stability was always a precarious balancing act, would take the news that this newly acquired boon companion was about to be taken from him.

The boys padded into the kitchen in bare feet, making satisfying wet footprints on the floor.

‘No fish?’ asked Amy.

‘Edward had a pull,’ said Giles, ‘but the trout had other ideas and they were giving Rory the cold shoulder today. We’ll have better luck next time.’

‘Can we go again tomorrow?’ asked Rory.

‘Yes, can we, Dad?’ echoed Edward. ‘Tomorrow I will give those fish the shock of their lives. Tomorrow I will catch Leviathan. Tomorrow I will be Angler of the Year. I shouldn’t be surprised if I get another medal!’

‘Well, not tomorrow, darling, because you’ll be going back to school, and,’ said Isobel, plunging in, ‘because something rather special is happening for Rory tomorrow.’ Across the kitchen Giles’s eyes met hers. ‘I’ve just had Mummy on the telephone,’ she continued bravely, ‘and can you guess what she had to say?’

‘No.’ Rory froze.

‘Well, Mummy’s arrived in England and she wants you to fly down to London to join her there. Isn’t that exciting?’

‘When will I be coming back?’

‘We’ll have to plan another visit for you very soon.’ Isobel’s voice was bright as polished glass. ‘But first you’ll have a fun time in London with Mummy . . . and then go home to Washington with her. Won’t that be lovely?’

‘No! This is my home. I live with you now.’

‘Oh, darling, this can always be your second home. I hope you’ll come and stay often – but your real home is with Mummy and Brooke. They want you back with them.’ Isobel tried to take the little boy in her arms, but he fought her off, flailing at her with desperate small fists.

‘NO! NO! NO!’

Edward’s face had started to twitch. ‘Is his mummy the spider lady?’ he asked, this being the unfortunate name he had given his aunt the ill-fated summer, five years earlier, when he had become so afraid of her.

‘Yes,’ said Amy.