She introduced herself as Mags and the teenage boy with her, was her son, Ed. Between them they had been showing the owls they had rescued, to raise funds for the care of the growing menagerie of waifs, strays and injured birds and mammals which Ed tended to.

‘He started with just birds,’ Mags said fondly, ‘but now we have all sorts.’

‘We even had a fox for a while,’ said Ed, as he handed me the corner of the canopy they had been struggling to fold in the breeze. ‘But she was soon well enough to be released.’

‘Would you like to hold one of the owls?’ Mags asked. ‘It won’t take a minute to get one out again.’

‘Oh no,’ I said hastily, ‘but thanks for the offer.’

I was more than happy to admire them from a distance.

‘I’d better push on,’ I said once the cover was stowed safely away. ‘I’m really here for the solstice ceremony.’

‘There’s going to be quite a crowd today,’ Mags nodded. ‘Keep following the path and it will lead you to where you need to be.’

After briefly stopping to admire the three penned reindeer and their silky antlers, my ears picked up a musical sound I had heard before.

‘The Wishing Tree,’ I sighed.

There was no mention of it on the map and I wondered if it had been left off on purpose. Perhaps the Connellys didn’t want it found or perhaps it was left for those who stepped outside the parameters of the paper to find. It was every bit as entrancing as before and I couldn’t help but recall the first time I had seen it. How I wished Beamish was there so I could explain . . .

‘Hattie?’

I had barely made the wish and it had come true.

‘What are you doing here?’

I turned and saw him sitting on a bench at the edge of the clearing. I hadn’t noticed any seating before; my eyes had been firmly focused on the tree.

‘Looking for you,’ I said, taking in the biggest breath. ‘Dolly was desperate for me to find you. She said I should explain.’

‘And what about you?’ he asked gruffly. ‘Do you want to explain?’

‘Of course,’ I said, a lump forming in my throat as I took in the hard-set line of his mouth and the tension in his shoulders. ‘Of course, I do.’

He shrugged and sat back, evidently determined not to make things easy for me and I could hardly blame him. Had the boot been on the other foot I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere near him, let alone listen to anything he might have had to say. Taking a leap of faith, I walked over and sat, perched on the end of the bench, as far from him as it was possible to get without falling off.