“She continued walking towards him, taking in his dimple and the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled, trying to tell herself not to get carried away

Dorothy took off her glasses and eased herself up from the floor to the chair at the desk. “He got in touch a couple of days before we left for the Hebrides, said he wanted to see you to explain everything. “He knew you’d be so livid and proud and would probably refuse to see him, so he asked me what I thought was the best way.”

“You knew, Mum, you knew he was back and didn’t tell me?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe it!”

“He loves you, Fi. He really does and I have no idea, truly, what he did and why he did it but all I know is that he’s terribly sorry and wants to woo you back.

“I think that’s why he sent Jamie the note. He thought you’d never want to see him so he hoped to get Jamie involved to lure you to a meeting.”

“But Mum, I ran after him at the funeral, could he not have spoken to me then?”

Dorothy shrugged.

“I didn’t know anything about that. It was maybe just not appropriate.

“But all I said to him was to wait and I would get back to him once I had thought it through, then it was the holiday, then poor Stru...”

Fiona stood up from the heap on the floor and sat on the little sofa opposite the desk.

“It’s unbelievable that you kept this from me. And, hang on, how come you know about Jamie’s note?”

“Grannies can be useful confidantes sometimes, darling.”

Dorothy swivelled round on the chair. “So are you going to meet him today?”

Fiona nodded and looked at her watch. “Yeah, I’ll go over to the green after lunch. Might need a large glass of wine first.”

She smiled. “Did he really say he loved me?”

Effort

Fiona left the house and headed for the green. She had on her boots and raincoat, as Dorothy insisted rain was forecast.

Also, she didn’t want to look as if she’d made too much effort.

She could hardly eat at lunch, her stomach was churning.

But she did manage to glug down a large glass of wine, as did Dorothy, who had cancelled her appointment and was going to continue trawling through Struan’s affairs.

As she crossed the grass, Fiona spotted a figure sitting on the old bench overlooking the river. She got nearer and saw it was him.

Even from behind, he looked as if he’d not changed much. His hair was a bit shorter and he looked a lot thinner, but apart from that, it was the same old Pete.

He turned round and beamed. Oh, he was handsome. She smiled and resisted the urge to run.

No way would she just fall into his arms, he had six months of explaining to do.

He got up from the bench and stood, leaning on something. What on earth was it? When she saw it was a cricket bat, she smiled.

It must be a present for Jamie. Pete had always said he’d buy him a bat in Australia. He put the bat down on the bench and came towards her.

She continued walking towards him, taking in his dimple and the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled, trying to tell herself not to get carried away, not to forget how he’d hurt her and Jamie.

But he looked like the same gentle, loving Pete she remembered. She stood in front of him and he gazed at her.

“Christ, Fi, you look nervous!”

“I’ve not seen you for so long, I was terrified I’d forget what you looked like.”

He smiled and leant in towards her. “I’ve never forgotten anything about you, Fi.”

Tuesday January 13 1880

“There’s a note for you, Mrs Craig.” Jessie bobbed and held out a silver tray.

“Thank you. Where is Mrs Baxter this morning?” “Says she doesn’t feel good, she’s staying in the kitchen.”

“I see. And are the children still upstairs with Miss Graham in the nursery?”

“Aye.”

Ann took the note into the drawing room and turned it over. It was his writing. She must calm herself before reading it.

She poured herself a glass of Madeira which she quaffed in one, then headed over to the window seat. Ripping the letter open with the paper knife, she began to read: My darling Ann, I have two pieces of news. Firstly, Robert’s body came into the morgue late last night. It was instantly recognisable and so I took over the work. Dr Anderson had gone home for the night and my colleague, Dr Macdonald, does not know the connection. Even though it was obvious the body had only recently been in the water, I drew up all the necessary paperwork and the body is still there with his date of death certified as 28 December 1879. There were lesions to the heart but these were not noted on the official records. Fortunately the thickness of his chest hair makes it less obvious to the eye. You will receive the official letter notifying you that the body lies at the morgue and the undertakers await instructions. The second piece of news is not good. Margaret thinks she has evidence about us, my darling, and our love trysts. There is nothing she can prove and so I intend to stay away from home for now. Indeed, the morgue is busy, we now have thirtyseven bodies, many came ashore overnight. But I cannot wait to lie in your arms once more. With fondest love, A

Policemen

Ann looked out at the Tay, sparkling in the early morning sunlight.

So, Archibald, dear sweet Archibald, had served his purpose well.

What would happen with Margaret? Somehow she doubted it would blow over.

Now all Ann had to do was await the official letter telling of her poor husband’s death on that ill-fated train, then deal with the funeral arrangements.

What would she wear? She would need to have a new gown made, perhaps taffeta? Or would silk be best?

There was a noise on the gravel. It must be the courier with the letter from the morgue.

She turned and saw two policemen crunching up the drive towards the front door.

More tomorrow.