‘Of course I will. But I want you to do the right thing for you. Until this trip came up, you hadn’t been happy for a very long time, Elle. I could see it even if you couldn’t. Take this opportunity. I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ she promised, slightly surprised that Lilly had been more perceptive than she’d given her credit for.

‘Keep me updated. I want to hear all about this Stuart guy. I might do some Facebook stalking tonight. Text me his full name.’

‘I promise I’ll keep you in the loop.’

A loud bell rang in the background. ‘I gotta go, the animals have been released from the zoo,’ Lilly said as the sound of high-pitched yelling and noise drowned out normal conversation. Elle had done the school pick-up occasionally when Lilly had been sick or stuck at work, and a shudder of fear ran up her spine as she recalled the utter bedlam those first few moments of freedom from classrooms created.

They said their goodbyes and Elle ended the call, staring out the glass windows at the pretty garden before her. It was cold, and she wrapped the woollen throw rug she’d grabbed from the bottom of the bed on her way downstairs around her shoulders tighter, before heading into the kitchen to make coffee.

The thought of staying on longer had really only been a back-up plan, but now, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like it might happen. It was kind of scary. But it was also a little bit exciting. Coming to Scotland for a holiday was very different to coming here to stay and work. To live. When she first arrived, it was simply to see some sights and bring Gran home, but since then Elle had found family, and found a place for her art. It was all still new and tentative, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to give any of it up just yet.

TWENTY-THREE

Twenty-three

For two days Stuart and Elle played hermit and practically never left the house. After the first night, Stuart had driven her into the pub where she checked out and thanked Glenda for all her help, collected her bags and handed them to Stuart to load into the back of his car.

She’d made a quick stop at the post office to pack several more sketches into long canisters and send them to Aila and Grace to be framed.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d sold your sketches?’ Stuart asked, when she told him what she needed to do at the post office.