Tyler slipped into the seat across from her, took a long sip of his pint, then licked away the thin line of cream from his top lip.

“Didn’t have you down as a whiskey drinker.”

Emily swirled her drink, watched the liquid as it clung to the sides of the glass.

“Mind you,” he said with a chuckle, “Aunt Cat used to drink tequila straight from the bottle. I remember one Christmas Eve when she brought one all the way from Mexico, then bit the worm in half, just to piss off my dad.”

Emily could picture the scene so vividly. The look on Mr. Montgomery’s face as her grandmother picked out the worm from her glass, tilted back her head with deliberate extravagance, then placed it neatly on her tongue before biting the creature clean in two. She and Tyler had screeched with delight before being ushered upstairs by their mothers and told to go to sleep right that minute or Father Christmas wouldn’t leave them any presents.

They had spent every Christmas in the Montgomery mansion, overlooking the park. The rooms were filled with the scent of citrus, nutmeg, and roasting meat. The sound of jazz mingled with the pop of champagne corks and crackling fire as she and Tyler weaved through the party in their pajamas, begging to be allowed up for a few minutes more.

On Christmas morning they would tumble down the stairs to drink hot chocolate in the kitchen with the resident housekeeper, waiting and waiting for their parents to brush aside their hangovers and come downstairs. Later they would feast on goose, chestnuts, and pudding set alight with whiskey, the blue flames dancing as it was brought with a flourish to the table.

Each and every year was spent together. Two families entwined. Until one summer’s day ruined it all.

“As I recall, she did it at your christening too.” A voice so familiar interrupted Emily’s thoughts, and she looked across to where a middle-aged woman approached. She was wearing dove-gray leather trousers, black stilettos, and a cream satin blouse with pussycat bow at her neck.

Tyler’s mother. He must have texted her, told her where he and Emily were, which meant she knew both that they were coming and about her grandmother’s plan. She bent down to kiss Tyler lightly on both cheeks, then leant across to pull Emily into a hug.

“Emily, my darling, you look so pale. I do hope my son has been taking good care of you?”

Four weeks had passed since Emily had last seen her godmother, Adrianna Montgomery. Four weeks during which she had known of her grandmother’s plan yet said nothing, leaving Emily alone, with no one there to see her through the day-to-day, as she had tried to collate Catriona’s life into cardboard boxes now stored safely in the loft.

“You’re mad at me, I can tell,” she said, placing her handbag on the seat next to her. “But I promised, you see, and you and I both know how persuasive, how stubborn Catriona can be.”