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.

He sat back and smiled. ‘Olivia and our general manager are up there trying to tame my wild grandmother, you know. Good luck with that, I said to Olivia. Celine’s quite something when she gets going. She’s writing her biography at the moment. I asked her if Rory and I will be in it. Yes, if we ever do anything interesting, she said. You have to laugh. It’s either that or want to kill her.’

The waitress reappeared, putting the tea in front of Eliza, the brandy in front of Alex.

‘No drinking in work hours, please, Alex,’ Olivia said. They hadn’t noticed her return.

‘Officially speaking, Olivia, I’m not at work,’ he said. ‘I’m on my break.’

‘But you’ll be back behind the front desk in ten minutes. Without alcohol on your breath. Please.’

It was a subtle stand-off. Olivia won.

Alex stood up. ‘Apologies that our reunion was so brief, Eliza, but we’ll see each other again. Only on my days off, Olivia, promise.’

After he’d left, Eliza looked more closely at her godmother. Something was different.