That afternoon, sitting in Dolly’s cottage waiting for three o’clock, with Tiddles in her basket next to the fire, I shut out all thoughts of how touching Beamish had made my skin tingle and focused instead on my parents. Not the grievances and rows of my tempestuous teenage years, but the time before that, the special moments; birthdays, holidays and bedtime stories. All the time my life had been busy, filled with either shifts at the hotel or with Jonathan, it had been easier to brush those memories to one side, but it wasn’t like that in Wynbridge.

I had hardly been back in the town any time at all before I had realised just how different the priorities here were. Family, friendship and a strong sense of community were more important than anything else to the folk I had met and I wondered if Dolly and Beamish were right – should I let Mum and Dad know where my life was taking me?

Given what they had told Jonathan a part of me believed they didn’t deserve to know but, the thought of ending up like Beamish, unable to resolve anything because it had been left too late, made my eyes sting with tears. In spite of knowing what Mum and Dad had said, would I be able to comfortably carry the guilt of not even trying to make things, if not completely better, then bearable, when I had the chance?

I jumped up as my heart began to race. This dramatic realisation was a shock, I had always been adamant that I would never talk to them again, but the anguish in Beamish’s eyes and hearing him talk about his own dreadful experiences had given me a jolt and I knew I had to try. I would send the Christmas card of reconciliation that Dolly had suggested and see what happened.

I glanced up at the clock. It was almost time to head back to school to find out what festive fate awaited me. I grabbed my coat and was just reaching for the door when my phone struck up again. I stayed rooted to the spot for fear of losing the signal.

‘Hattie?’

‘Jonathan.’

‘Oh my god,’ he laughed. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages! The signal in that place really is rubbish, isn’t it?’

‘I know,’ I said, feeling guilty that I had ignored his earlier call. ‘I’m sorry. Did you get my last text?’

‘Possibly,’ he said. ‘I think so. They’ve been arriving out of sync, but never mind.’

‘Have you seen the apartments yet?’

‘No, not yet, but I’m going to later.’ I could tell he was smiling. ‘I wish you were here to view them with me, but I’ll send lots more photos.’

‘That will be great,’ I told him, but I wasn’t filled with the same excitement about it all as I had been before.