The back of the castle is in an even worse state than the front. The walls have broken down entirely in places and it looks like a giant doll’s house that’s hinged wide open. I can even make out floral wallpaper, stained and faded, in an upstairs room, and a wooden rocking horse, sitting forlornly in what must once have been a nursery on the first floor. I wonder at all the memories a home can hold – whether they imprint on the bricks and mortar.

‘Shall we see if we can find that beach?’ Liam asks, nudging my elbow.

I nod, wanting to get away from the place and its eerie presence; something about it makes me feel uneasy.

We dive back into the forest, Liam navigating our way with ease between the trees, carving out a new pathway through the bracken and undergrowth. I wonder how long it’s been since anyone trod where my feet are landing. It’s easy to imagine we’re the only people in the world out here, or that we’ve stepped back in time to another era altogether.

When we reach the beach – another ten-minute walk – I’m out of breath. It’s been so long since I got any real exercise, and I’m horribly aware of just how unfit I’ve become. It’s all the staying inside, lying in bed and moping. I used to run three times a week, and even managed a 10K a year ago to raise money for Cancer Research, but now I doubt I could run to the other side of the island if my life depended on it.

The sand stretches almost half a mile and it’s the most beautiful place I think I’ve ever seen. The view across to the other side of the loch is extraordinary: mountains rise shadowy and indistinct in the distance. It reminds me of those Lord of the Rings films with all its majesty and otherworldliness. It makes me completely forget the sense of horror that overcame me back at the castle.

We stroll up the beach hand in hand, walking into the wind, which feels like fists pummelling us. ‘What are you thinking about?’ Liam asks after a moment.

I’ve been lost in thought, gazing out at the water. My thoughts had wandered to my mum, to tell the truth – my mind often slips back to her – but I don’t want to admit that because I know he’s worried about my depression and wants me to be happy, so instead I smile and say; ‘I was just thinking about the wedding.’

‘What about it?’ Liam asks.

‘Just how perfect it was,’ I say, leaning into him.

‘Even though it wasn’t the big wedding of your dreams?’ he asks me, looking unsure.