I burst out laughing. ‘Sorry. My mother would be so impressed with me. She spends hours pottering in the garden and for much of my childhood I was her unwilling accomplice, so I’ve handled a weed or two.’

Ceana grins. ‘Well, we grow most of what we eat. Bastien is in charge of the livestock, as well as the forge. Taylor is our fisherman and there’s a lake in the woods if you ever fancy helping to catch dinner when fish is on the menu.’ She heads over towards the door, placing her hand on the embellished, cast-iron doorknob before turning back to look at me. A moment of hesitation passes over her face. ‘Nico is a lovely man, very passionate and fiery at times. Moody, too. When he’s not approachable, it’s usually best to leave him be, if you know what I mean.’

‘Oh, thanks for the heads-up, Ceana. Much appreciated.’

‘Sleep well,’ she says as she steps out onto the landing. ‘Breakfast is at eight.’

I watch as the door closes, reaching out for my phone to check if Aiden received my text. He’s on his way to Australia to begin his adventure as it’s a country he’s always longed to visit.

Glad you arrived safe and sound, babe. Another hour before I board the plane for the final leg of the journey. Sleep well. Love you. Miss you.

His reply was sent only twenty minutes ago. Maybe he couldn’t get a connection before that, who knows, but it’s strange not having that instant interaction. We’re apart by choice, but the choice was Aiden’s. I can’t let go of the feeling that he has let me down.

I lie back on the bed, looking up at the vaulted ceiling, and watch as a tiny black speck works its way around the large, suspended light fitting. The little spider is on an epic journey and I know exactly how it feels.

5

Feeling My Way

After breakfast, everyone heads off to prepare for the visitors. I stay behind as Nico wants to talk to me about my work schedule. He’s going to give me the general tour, but he received a call a few minutes ago and had to dash off to sort out a problem. So, I’m left all alone, loitering, as I await his return.

The inside of this stone building is mostly open-plan. Looking up to the rafters, it’s partially boarded on one half, which houses some rusty-looking lifting equipment. I’m guessing it’s a former hayloft. The flagstone floor is well-worn, but there’s nothing shabby about the interior, it’s rustic. Simple. Clean. Well kept.

I wander over to the back of the room; the huge dining table is dwarfed by the amount of space. A scattering of assorted chairs of all shapes and sizes, together with several sofas, help to soften the acoustics.