‘Darling, not all families are close. It was a long time ago. She had a new life in Australia and had obviously drifted apart from her older siblings. Besides, she was a teenager when she left Scotland. They’d probably become strangers to her,’ Caroline said matter-of-factly.

‘I guess so,’ Elle eventually said, although somehow it just felt … wrong.

‘I hope you’re keeping track of your spending,’ her mother cautioned. ‘It’s easy to get carried away.’

Elle bit back a familiar flare of irritation and forced herself to answer calmly. ‘I’m being careful, Mum. I better go. Just wanted to check in and let you know that I met the cousins.’

‘It was good to hear from you, love,’ her father said.

‘Be careful,’ her mother added firmly.

‘I will. Love you,’ she said before ending the call and letting out an unsatisfied breath. Maybe her parents didn’t think there was anything strange about Gran and her family, but Elle was still sure there was more to the story.

TWELVE

Twelve

Elle decided to leave the car behind and walk into town. The morning was cool but not too cold, and the village was barely ten minutes by foot. She enjoyed exploring all the twisting laneways as Gran chatted about the people who had once lived in the stone cottages that led to the seventeenth-century harbour.

Old stone warehouses surrounded the walled harbour, and the water was so beautifully clear that she could see the sandy bottom. Elle snapped photos of the whole scene, focusing especially on a little red-and-white fishing boat moored there, then walked around to the small headland. She sat on a bench overlooking the sea on the other side of the harbour and took out her sketchpad, then quickly lost herself in capturing the view before her.

A large wire sculpture of a dolphin had been erected on the point, and beside it stood the remains of what was generally deemed to be an old salt house, though its exact origins were still debated by the locals. The old stone wall with a glassless window stood defiantly on the headland, refusing to give up its perfect position overlooking the ocean before it, and Elle vowed to come back at sunset when she knew the sinking sun would look spectacular caught through the framed window.

Packing her sketchpad away in her oversized handbag, Elle headed up the hill towards the main street and her cousins’ shop, passing quaint stone cottages with low rock walls and pretty gardens full of bright flowers, then past an old pub that had Established in 1825 written on a sign above the doorway.