‘I’ll get us some coffee and we can sit in the lounge. Doug’ll be back in a few minutes.’

A portly chef appeared from the larder. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘You must be Fiona. Mrs C’s told me all about you.’

‘This is Billie, he used to work here years ago but then he went to Gleneagles. Now he’s back here, just had his first weekend with us. Tom couldn’t handle it all, he left and went to Glasgow.’ Mrs C clattered about setting the tray with mugs and a plate of shortbread.

‘Scones’ll be out in two minutes if you want to wait for those?’ Billie pointed at the oven door.

‘Yes, please,’ Fiona said, looking around. ‘The kitchen looks different, really organised. Did you see it when Pete was in charge?’

Billie shook his head. ‘Nope, but I know I had a hard act to follow. Customers are still talking about that review.’

Fiona smiled. ‘Can I take that for you?’ She lifted the tray from Mrs C. They went through to the lounge, followed by Doug.

‘So tell me all about Dundee and Jamie,’ said Mrs C. ‘How’s school going?’

Fiona told them about Jamie’s first morning, and chatted about what they had been doing during the summer holidays.

The door opened and Billie appeared with a plate of steaming scones. He handed a folder to Fiona. ‘When I was doing a big clear-up on Sunday, I found these in the kitchen office, tucked away under the huge volume of environmental health regulations. I presume it’s Pete’s.’

Fiona frowned and reached for the folder. When she opened it up she found pages of recipes. ‘I’ve never seen this before, but it’s his handwriting.’

She stopped at a page that said Mum’s Scones. Then on the back was Hilary Gibson’s Macadamia Ginger Shortbread and lots of scribbles annotating the recipe. She forced herself to shut the folder and return to coffee and chat as Billie went back into the kitchen.

After an hour or so, Fiona said she had to leave and there were hugs at the door. She waved and drove off down the road then, when out of sight of the hotel, stopped on the roadside and reached for the folder, inspecting every page. Some were handwritten recipes, some cut out of magazines, and there were three more recipes from either Hilary or Mum. And then, on the final page, she felt her stomach tighten as she read the words Sam’s Flapjacks. Fiona scrutinised the recipe and realised it was the same one he used to make for Jamie, a regular flapjack recipe but with generous helpings of chopped apricots and white chocolate chips. Not for the first time she found herself thinking, who the hell is Sam?

CHAPTER 29

Chapter 29

Sunday 4 January 1880