‘Nearly fourteen,’ Eliza said.

‘That long? What kept you?’

A guest came up to the desk.

‘Excuse me,’ Alex said, ‘but duty calls. So good to have you here, Eliza. Settle in, and then we’ll plan some outings together. If you can bear to be in my company unchaperoned?’

Olivia was openly rolling her eyes. ‘Thank you, Alex.’ She waited until they’d walked away before she spoke. ‘He should come with a health warning.’

‘He was so nice.’

‘Like a charming crocodile, yes. Don’t fall for it again. He is Edgar’s son, and I’ll always love him for that, but proceed with caution.’

After their pre-dinner drink in the small bar, they were escorted by a smiling waitress to the opulent dining room, with its low lights, linen tablecloths and gleaming silverware. Midway through her main course of grilled trout and crisp vegetables, Eliza’s eyelids began to grow heavy.

‘If you can last one more hour, I’ll let you go,’ Olivia said. ‘The closer you get to local time —’

‘Excuse me, Olivia.’

A serious-faced man with grey-flecked dark hair was standing by their table.

‘Lawrence,’ Olivia said. ‘Let me introduce my goddaughter, Eliza Miller. Eliza, this is our general manager, Lawrence Greene.’

They exchanged greetings, then Lawrence turned to Olivia. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt but —’

‘Celine?’

He nodded.

Olivia stood up. ‘Excuse me, Eliza. I’ll be right back.’

Eliza watched as her godmother and Lawrence walked out of the dining room. Through her jetlag, she suddenly recalled Olivia mentioning a sadness in his past. After a moment, it came to her. His wife had died tragically young some years earlier, not long before he’d come to the Montgomery. It must have been so hard for him. Edgar had thought highly of him, Olivia had told her. Eliza knew Olivia did too.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Eliza was content. She often dined alone. She was also so cushioned by tiredness that everything had a soft glow. It hardly seemed possible she was in Scotland. That she’d managed the flight. That she no longer lived in a flat overlooking Melbourne. That she no longer had a job. Gillian’s words jabbed her memory again. What have you done with your life so far?

‘Are you deep in philosophical thought or drowning in jetlag and trying to stay awake?’

It was Alex. He took the seat Olivia had vacated fifteen minutes earlier.

‘Olivia phoned me at the front desk,’ he said. ‘She’s asked me to apologise profusely. She’s unexpectedly detained upstairs. She said she’ll understand if you go to your room but she hopes to be back soon.’

Eliza thanked him and glanced at her watch. Still not nine p.m. ‘I’m happy to wait.’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’m on a break. What can I get you? Brandy? One of our fine whiskies?’

She shook her head. ‘Chamomile tea, please.’

‘So sensible, but yes, of course. We have more than thirty tea varieties. Handpicked by elves in the mist, I believe.’ As a waitress appeared, he ordered brandy for himself, tea for her.