A Recipe for Love

Chapter Ten

The day after their trip to spy on what Bella was increasingly thinking of as ‘the opposition’ it was Ladies’ Group time again. The system for deciding where and when the group was meeting remained a mystery, but Flinty always seemed to somehow know. Bella assumed it was something you came to feel ‘in your waters’ after sufficient years – or perhaps decades – of life in Lowbridge.

Before they went, Bella was set on getting the aberration of a brownie she’d been served the previous day out of her mind. And the only way to get over a bad brownie was to get yourself a really good one. She creamed together her butter and sugar – caster sugar because that was what Flinty had in, but ideally she’d have used half muscovado – while half her chocolate melted over a pan of hot water. Then it was a simple job to combine the chocolate with the butter and sugar, add the flour, eggs and a dash of cocoa and mix together. Finally she chopped the remaining chocolate into generous chunks – no feeble little shop-bought chocolate chips for Bella – and stirred them through the mixture. She popped the whole thing to bake in a low oven for at least half an hour while she sat at the kitchen island with a big mug of tea.

‘Oh wow! Something smells amazing.’ Darcy sniffed the air in the kitchen appreciatively as she came in.

‘Brownies. For Ladies’ Group.’

‘Oh, I used to love Ladies’ Group. I mean, they all thought I was a mad American because I put honey in my tea, but once we’d got past that it was great fun.’

‘Why don’t you come?’

‘Come where?’ Veronica appeared in the doorway. The longer she was at Lowbridge the more sure Bella was becoming that Veronica’s footsteps made no noise. She never approached. She simply materialised in place.

‘To the village Ladies’ Group,’ Darcy replied. ‘Bella’s going.’ Darcy’s tone had hints of a petulant teenager about it.

‘Yes. Well.’ That ‘well’ was doing a lot of conversational heavy lifting. Well there’s no accounting for Bella. Well what do you expect from her? Well Bella doesn’t really count as the lady of the house does she, so does it matter? Any and all of the above could have been the intended implication.

‘Well what?’

‘Well, you’ve not been here long enough to really understand these things yet, dear.’ Veronica folded her arms. ‘If you stick around and marry my grandson…’

As ever Bella bristled at the ‘if’.

‘…then you’ll learn that Lady Lowbridge can’t have a foot in both camps. When one joins this family there are certain sacrifices.’

‘It’s tea and a chat. It’s not exactly supporting the forces of revolution.’ Although Bella would definitely volunteer as chief cake-maker for the Lowbridge People’s Front if the opportunity ever arose. ‘And if more groups from the village are going to be coming here it makes sense for me to get to know people, doesn’t it?’

Darcy nodded in agreement. ‘Quite right. And I shall come with you, Bella. Thank you very much for inviting me.’

With Darcy in tow and a late arrival in the form of Reverend Jill – bustling in with apologies for not making it more often and explanations of the ridiculous demands made of her by needy parishioners, hastily glossed over with a ‘Not any of you of course’ – Anna’s lounge was full to bursting by the time Bella popped open her borrowed Tupperware.

Jill leaned in towards the chocolatey wondrousness. ‘I shouldn’t. Really I shouldn’t.’

The other women nodded. ‘A moment on the lips,’ Darcy added.

Bella could practically hear the salivating. ‘Well I’ll pop them here if anyone wants any.’

The conversation kicked off with a fundraising update from Nina. ‘So Netty’s sponsored silence is underway.’

How could they tell, wondered Bella.

Next to her Netty nodded.

‘It’s going marvellously isn’t it?’

Another wordless nod.

‘And we all know what a chatty Cathy she can be, so it’s not easy. Anyway, started at noon yesterday so we’re twenty-two hours in. The target is seventy-two, and we’ve got over sixty-two pounds already pledged.’

‘Well done, Netty,’ Flinty added. ‘Sixty-two pounds is great.’

Everyone nodded politely, but it was only polite. Sixty-two pounds wasn’t going to get the community hall a new roof. It would barely get their new bridge a functioning hand rail.

Anna leaned across towards Darcy. ‘How are you doing, pet? It’s hard after the funeral, isn’t it?’

‘I’m OK, honey. Well, as OK as can be expected. You always think there’s more time.’

The other women nodded sagely.

‘How’s your fella doing?’ Anna asked Bella.

‘He’s all right. We went up to the McKenzie estate yesterday. Trying to get some ideas for Lowbridge.’

‘So long as the idea isn’t to charge four quid for a cup of tea,’ Anna muttered.

‘No chance. But I could use your help.’

Flinty and Darcy exchanged a look but the rest of the group looked keen. ‘What can we help with, love?’ Nina asked.

Bella took a deep breath. This was why she was here. Adam was Lowbridge. She understood that now. That meant that he would stay. It was who he was. And that meant she would stay.

And Lowbridge needed to make money. That would be Bella’s project. That would be how she made herself useful. Supporting Adam didn’t have to mean being a lady of leisure who turned up to cut ribbons. It meant making Lowbridge work.

‘Well ideas really. The McKenzie estate is great for what it is, but it doesn’t feel real, you know? There’s no community there. It’s all…’

‘Razzmatazz,’ Nina supplied.

‘Exactly. But Adam reckons we do need to find ways of bringing more money into the estate, and if we can find a way of doing that that works for the whole community then that would be amazing. So any ideas?’

‘Well, we could reopen to visitors,’ Darcy said straight away. ‘I used to show people round. It was so much fun, and the Americans love that one of their own is the lady of the manor.’ She paused. ‘Obviously you’ll be the lady. I don’t want to tread on toes.’

‘You wouldn’t be.’ Bella pulled out her phone and started making a list.

Number 1: Open the castle to tourists

‘We’ll have to do a good tidy round,’ Flinty muttered.

Bella thought the castle was pretty damn tidy already, but she guessed Flinty had higher standards. If people were paying to visit she probably did need to at least put her knickers in a drawer. ‘What else?’

‘Well we used to do teas at the community hall when the castle was open,’ Anna said. ‘People would come to you and then come into the village. Can’t do that now, though.’

‘We could do teas and coffees on the courtyard when it’s nice weather?’ Darcy suggested.

‘Get some big umbrellas and do it all year round,’ Flinty added.

Bella updated her list. Number 2: Cafe in the Courtyard

‘Have you ever looked at getting licensed for weddings?’ she asked.

Darcy shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

Flinty laughed. ‘You got married at the castle, love.’

‘Oh yeah!’

‘You don’t need a licence in Scotland,’ Nina explained. ‘The registrar just has to agree that it’s an appropriate place.’

‘And I can do Christian weddings in the chapel,’ Jill added. ‘I usually say only people who live in the parish, but I’m happy to discuss it with couples who want a church service.’

Bella added Number 3: Wedding Venue to her list.

‘Alexander used to lead the bird watching club too,’ Darcy said.

‘Right. Does that make us any money?’ Bella asked.

‘Not really.’

Across the room, Netty scribbled furiously on the pad in front of her and passed the paper around the circle to Bella. Wildlife tours or walks? Tourists love that.

‘OK. Wildlife walks.’ Bella added it as number 4 on her list. ‘We’d need someone to lead that.’

‘Well Veronica’s the expert really,’ Flinty said. ‘She knows every bird you’ll ever see out here.’

Everyone paused for a second.

‘Maybe we’ll have a think about that,’ said Bella. ‘That’s lots to get started.’

‘What we really need is better guest accommodation,’ Nina chipped in. ‘There’s two rooms at the pub that people sometimes take for fishing trips and the like, but they’re pretty basic. People want something a bit fancy these days, don’t they? En suite bathrooms and tiny bottles of shampoo.’

Bella had wondered about offering guest accommodation at the castle, but if they were going to open to the public and accommodate herself, Adam, Darcy and Veronica, could they really afford to make any more rooms out of bounds to day visitors?

‘Xander once mentioned the idea of opening up the coach house,’ Flinty said. ‘Never did anything about it though. It was years ago.’ She nodded at Darcy. ‘Before your time. I think it was…’ She tailed off.

Darcy laughed. ‘It’s fine. You can mention her.’

‘I think it was Adam’s ma’s idea. She was one for grand notions that never really came to anything.’

‘Like being a mother,’ snipped Anna.

‘I’m sure that’s not fair,’ Darcy murmured.

The older women maintained a distinctly unconvinced silence. Bella added Coach house B&B to her list.

The pent-up ball of energy that was Jill finally snapped. ‘Maybe I’ll have a tiny piece of brownie.’

She squeezed forward and grabbed the biggest piece from the tub.

‘Oh well, if you are…’

‘Shouldn’t let it go to waste…’

‘Maybe just a wee bit…’

Opposite Bella, Netty held up her pad: Brownie please!

Bella smiled to herself. Nobody could resist chocolate for long. She smiled again as the group mellowed into a chocolatey silence as the women took their first bites and felt the rich fudgey decadence on their tongues. Darcy had even closed her eyes and leaned back slightly, letting a small gasp of pleasure escape her lips. ‘Oh I wish I could bake like this…’ she murmured.

Nina laughed. ‘I wish my Pavel could bake like this. I’ve spoiled him. He’s so good with his hands but he couldn’t find his way round a kitchen to save his life.’

‘That’s what you should do!’ Jill all but punched the air.

‘What?’

‘You should teach people to cook!’

Bella shook her head. ‘I’m not that good.’

‘Bollocks.’ Jill’s cheeks reddened. She flicked her eyes skywards. ‘Sorry. You’re great. You’re a professional chef, right?’

‘Well yeah, but I just learnt from my nan and then on the job. I’m not a chef chef.’

‘I think you’re plenty good enough to teach people who don’t know the handle end of a whisk from…’ Jill frowned. ‘From the other bit.’

Darcy nodded. ‘Oh you should. You could do baking classes, and different cuisines, and…’

Could she? The idea of doing something that put her back in the kitchen appealed and sharing her love of food might be fun. ‘I don’t know. Where would we even do it?’

‘Well there’s the main kitchen at the castle,’ Flinty said. ‘And then the bakery and the scullery. There’s a second oven in the scullery. Bit old but still works perfectly well.’ She frowned. ‘You could probably fit six or eight in the main kitchen for a demo.’

‘I don’t know.’

All of the ladies of the Ladies’ Group joined in the chorus of approval for the cooking lesson plan.

‘We’ll need a name,’ Flinty said.

‘The Lowbridge Cookery School?’ offered Darcy.

‘Lowbridge Loch Cookery School?’ suggested Nina.

‘The loch isn’t even called that,’ Anna pointed out. ‘Not officially.’

‘No, but it’s what everyone actually calls it,’ Nina replied.

Netty held up her pad. The Highland Cookery School!

The Highland Cookery School. It had a ring to it. Bella added the suggestion to her list.

Adam had to knuckle down. That was so often the case. Adam needed to learn to focus. Adam needed to concentrate. Adam needed to stop his attention wandering and get his head into the estate accounts and administration.

He fought to tune in to what his grandmother was saying. He was sure it was the same stuff she’d been saying every day since he got here, but it hadn’t stuck yet and seemed determined not to go in now.

‘Since Covid, you see, we haven’t had the income from visitors, and the number of shooting and fishing licences was dwindling before that anyway. A few of the locals still fish but your father was loath to put the price up too much for them.’

Adam’s father had always preached that the family were the custodians of the land, but the whole community had a right to it. Locals paid peanuts for their fishing rights – barely enough to contribute to the cost of keeping the riverside clean and in good order, which should, Adam reflected, have included maintenance of the bridge.

‘Since John McKenzie took over up the way we don’t get very many shooting parties. Again, there’s only a few of the locals who still shoot. And the younger people don’t so much, do they?’

‘I guess not.’

His grandmother shook her head. ‘So that’s something to think about.’

It certainly was. The thing he was supposed to be thinking about was too huge, though. The whole future of Lowbridge – the house, the estate, the village, the title itself – was suddenly resting in his hands. ‘Right. Is there anything…’ He couldn’t say ‘smaller’ could he? ‘Anything more immediate?’

‘Well there’s the inheritance tax. We can’t deal with that properly until we’ve got the Confirmation, but we ought to start planning for it. Your father had insurance that should cover the lion’s share of the inheritance tax.’

‘Good?’ That was good, right?

‘Well yes, but the lion’s share isn’t the whole amount. We will have a shortfall. I’ve talked to Mr Samson and we don’t have probate yet and that could take an age but we’re probably going to be a hundred thousand or so short.’

‘How much is the lion’s share?’

Veronica stared at him. ‘Well, you’re inheriting the land, the house, and the cottage in the village, plus all the fixtures and fittings and bits and bobs. I don’t know precisely yet, but I would imagine the total bill will be around two million.’

‘What?’

His grandmother remained impassive. ‘It’s a big estate.’

‘But…’ Figures were not Adam’s thing, but they had been his father’s, hadn’t they? ‘…aren’t there ways around it?’

‘There are, which is why he had insurance.’

Dipper padded into the office as she did most days. She snuffled around him, and quickly ambled away, her search for her true master still fruitless. The dog could see what everyone else was missing, but Adam already knew. He wasn’t the right man for any of this. ‘So how do we raise the rest of the money?’

‘Well, when your father inherited I think he sold all the artworks that were worth putting on the market, and he let Macwillis take on the land we held on Skye.’ She paused. ‘We can use the cash equity but that’s only about fifteen thousand, and that will mean we have no reserves at all for anything unexpected.’ She tapped her pen on the table. ‘So we can ask for payment in instalments, or we could sell an asset.’

‘I thought you were dead against selling.’

‘I don’t mean breaking up the estate, for goodness’ sake.’ Veronica shook her head like she was talking to a child. ‘We do still have one cottage in the village though.’

‘Would that cover the shortfall?’

‘Close to certainly.’

‘And it’s an empty cottage?’ Years ago they’d had multiple tenants in the village but Adam had honestly thought all the cottages had been sold.

Veronica was quiet for a moment. ‘No. It’s Margaret’s cottage.’

‘Margaret?’ Oh. ‘Flinty?’ Adam shook his head. ‘We are not throwing Flinty out of her home.’

‘No. Well, good. That really only leaves one other option then.’

Adam looked up. Something in his grandmother’s tone told him he wasn’t going to love the end of this conversation.

‘The flat in Edinburgh.’

What flat in Edinburgh? Finally the penny dropped. ‘My flat?’

‘Well ultimately it’s you who owes this bill.’ Even Veronica had the heart to look slightly apologetic at that point.

Of course it was. Like everything else it all came back to Adam. He was the hub at the centre of the wheel. ‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘Let’s take a break there.’

‘There’s still lots of…’

Adam was already out of the door. He had no doubt that there were lots of other things he ought to be thinking about but this one was enough for today. To hold Lowbridge together, which was his duty, he had to draw a line under the life he’d built in Edinburgh. Letting go of the flat was like letting go of who he truly was, in the midst of the storm of who he had been born to be.

In the kitchen, he flicked the kettle on and started making tea. Fiona had seemed happy enough and maybe she was right. Maybe estates like Lowbridge did need to modernise. Even if he raised the money for the inheritance tax bill, a house – OK castle, he conceded, silently in his head – like this was a money pit.

He pulled his phone from his pocket. The old school WhatsApp group had thirty-one new messages. He scrolled quickly down. Fiona was definitely the person who’d wanted this group. Her contributions were a steady stream of photos of the McKenzie estate with chirpy comments about the modern Highland life. Everyone else was scattered to the seven winds, living their own lives in pastures news.

Bella and Darcy clattered in from the back corridor. Darcy was chatting and in higher spirits than Adam remembered seeing her. She stopped when she saw Adam. ‘Well I’m going to leave you two to catch up!’

Adam frowned as she jogged through to the front hall. ‘What’s up with her?’

Bella shook her head. ‘Nothing. Just some ideas we were talking about at Ladies’ Group. She might have got a bit carried away.’

That sounded more like the Darcy Adam remembered bowling into his life when he was fifteen years old in a whirlwind of chatter and modernity, than the pale withdrawn woman he’d been sharing a home with recently. Bella glanced at his phone. ‘Is that Fiona?’

‘Just WhatsApp. She’s like the poster girl for Highland living.’

‘What’s she saying?’ He could hear the edge in Bella’s voice.

‘Nothing.’ He took her hand. ‘Why?’

‘No reason.’

‘Bel?’

‘Just, you know, someone like that, she’d be what your grandmother would pick for you, wouldn’t she?’

‘You’re jealous?’

‘No! Not exactly. More just…’ She shook her head. ‘She’s perfect lady of the manor material.’

He dropped his phone onto the counter. ‘Not for my manor. I don’t know if you heard, but I’m in love with someone else.’ She let him pull her close. ‘Desperately, ridiculously, overwhelmingly in love,’ he reassured her.

She buried her face into his shoulder. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t be.’

‘She’d fit in, wouldn’t she?’

‘I don’t know about that.’ Did anyone fit anywhere?

He picked his phone up and handed it to her. ‘You can read the messages.’

She shook her head. ‘No. No. I’m being stupid.’

‘OK. Up to you.’ He tapped back and couldn’t help but notice the two blue ticks next to the message he’d sent his mum. Read but no reply. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket. ‘Everyone else is a million miles away.’

‘Anywhere exciting?’

That depended on your definition of exciting. ‘One woman’s a heavy metal singer in Los Angeles, but mostly Glasgow, Edinburgh, Manchester, London, you know.’

All perfectly good places a person could make a life without the pressure to be the perfect laird. ‘Not giving you itchy feet?’ he asked.

‘Nope. This is us. This is where I belong.’ She nestled against him and pressed a kiss to his lips. ‘Here. With you.’

Here was where he was supposed to be. Everyone agreed. He turned slightly to look out of the back window above the sink, away from the courtyard and out towards the hillside beyond, hoping that focusing on the open space outside would lessen the feeling that the castle walls were closing in on him.

From somewhere through the fog in his head he realised Bella was asking him a question. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘What have you been up to?’

Back to reality. ‘The place is in real trouble I think.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘We probably can’t cover the full inheritance tax from insurance.’ He parroted what his grandmother had told him. ‘So the suggestion is that we sell my place in Edinburgh.’

‘How do you feel about that?’

‘It’s my home.’ He took a seat at the island. ‘But this is my home too. So yeah… And even after that I don’t know if we’d be making enough money to keep the place going.’ That thought almost scared him more than anything else – the thought of Lowbridge slipping further into slow decline, sections of the house being formally closed up and allowed to decay, to hold together an estate and a community that would be dying alongside them. He didn’t want to say the next part out loud. She’d been to McKenzie’s place with him. She knew what the options were. ‘It doesn’t feel like I’ve got a lot of choice left.’

Bella slid her arm around his neck. ‘It’s OK.’

‘I’m letting everyone down.’

‘No.’ He let her slide into the gap between his knees, and wrap herself around him. ‘You’re not letting anyone down. It’s a lot to get your head around. I’ve got some ideas though. Everyone does. We were talking at Ladies’ Group and we came up with the idea of doing cookery lessons and…’

Adam opened his mouth to stop her, to explain that she’d got the wrong end of the stick, but something about the light in her eyes stopped him. She was excited, like Darcy had been when they’d arrived a few minutes ago. They were fired up about Lowbridge. The problem wasn’t the estate. The problem was him.

His phone ringing on the worktop interrupted Bella’s explanation of the incredible ideas the Ladies’ Group had come up with. Bella moved out of the way to let him answer. He checked the screen and frowned. Another thing he wasn’t on top of. ‘Ravi, hi!’

‘Hi mate, how’s it going?’

‘Erm… you know. Tough.’

‘Look, I’m really sorry to call but Carsons are getting nervy about the plans for their…’ Ravi paused and Adam could picture him scouring a set of notes or plans. ‘Their innovatively planted garden atrium.’

Adam knew the project. A new set of high-end offices designed to have planting inside running up the centre of the building.

‘Danny came to the meeting with me but…’ Adam knew what was coming. ‘He’s not you.’

Danny had worked for Adam and Ravi since their first big project. He was a brilliant landscaper, but he wasn’t much of a talker.

‘They’re asking for an emergency meeting with both of us. Like, if you really can’t, I do understand.’ There was a strain in Ravi’s voice.

‘Do you think they’ll pull out if I’m not there?’

‘Honestly, yeah. They liked your vision for it. Not seeing you in person is making them anxious.’ Ravi paused again. ‘And we’re not booking new work with you away so it’d be a big gap in the calendar. Without this to tide us over we’re pretty screwed.’

‘When’s the meeting?’

‘Day after tomorrow.’

Not a lot of time, but the thought of getting back to Edinburgh was a relief, not a stress. ‘Fine. I’ll come over tomorrow. I’ll ring you when I’m home and we can have a planning session in the evening?’

‘Brilliant. Thank you mate. I hate to ask, you know, in the circumstances.’

‘It’s fine. I’ll be there.’

He hung up the phone.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Ravi needs me in Edinburgh.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’

Of course he did. Him and Bella in Edinburgh was what he’d been dreaming of when they were busy falling in love in Spain. Now the idea of her there felt like the world was taunting him with hints of a life he would never have. ‘It’ll be mostly work,’ he said.

‘I’d like to see your place in Edinburgh, but I’m probably more use here.’

More use than he was, certainly.

‘I’ll miss you though,’ she pointed out. ‘And you need a break.’

He shook his head. ‘No time.’ Probably there would be time if he could get his head around half of the things his grandmother was trying to show him at anything above a snail’s pace.

‘One evening before you go. There’s a pub in the village, right?’

‘Yeah, but—’

‘Then I’m taking you for a drink.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I want to. You and me painting the town red.’

Adam’s horror at the thought of a debauched night at the Mucky Duck must have shown on his face.

Bella grinned. ‘All right then. We’ll paint the village a very pale pink.’

‘That sounds more realistic.’

‘It’s a date.’

The pub was in the old part of the village, nearest the stream that ran down into the loch. Flinty dropped them off in the Land Rover, ostensibly on her way home, but Bella remained slightly sceptical that Flinty ever actually went home. Whatever time you got up, she was already there, stove hot and kettle boiling.

‘It’s a long walk back if you don’t want to take your life in your hands,’ she pointed out.

‘We’ll be fine,’ Bella reassured her, but turned to Adam as she drove away. ‘How are we getting back?’

‘I’m not sure.’ He glanced back towards the water. ‘In my head it’s still a ten-minute walk over the Low Bridge.’

She took his hand. ‘Well if we have to walk the long way it’ll add to the adventure.’

‘I’m not sure an evening at the Mucky Duck has ever been described as that before.’

Inside, the pub was on the shabby end of traditional. The wood was darkened by years of tobacco smoke, and the velvet on the stools was a little threadbare. The hulk behind the bar was familiar. ‘Pavel!’

‘Bella.’ He grinned. ‘And Adam.’ He paused, a slight glint in his eye. ‘I’m sorry. M’lord.’

‘Bugger off, Pav.’

Pavel laughed. ‘How are you? I’m sorry I haven’t been up since the funeral. I figured you’d be busy with everything.’

‘I’m OK.’ He turned back to Bella. ‘So you two have met?’

‘At the village store. I thought you were a builder.’

Pavel nodded.

‘And personal trainer?’

‘That too.’

‘And lifeboatman,’ Adam added. ‘Water taxi operator.’ He frowned. ‘Fishing charter operator?’

Pavel nodded again. ‘It’s good to be busy.’

‘And barman?’ Bella asked.

‘Well since Mr Taggart died, Mrs Taggart was struggling a bit, running this place on her own, so I help out.’

‘He helps out every bloody night.’ Bella and Adam turned towards the voice. Hugh was sitting at the nearest table to the bar with a pair of men Bella didn’t recognise. ‘Will you two join us?’

Adam nodded, and Bella was delighted to see Queen Latifah snoozing at Hugh’s feet. She raised her head and accepted a little tickle as they installed themselves at Hugh’s table with pints of something bearing the McKenzie estate branding all over the tap. ‘Do they actually brew this themselves?’ Bella asked.

Hugh shrugged. ‘I doubt it. Tastes…’ He took a sip and paused. ‘Well it doesn’t taste like beer, but they tied the Taggarts into a contract and it’s the only pub we’ve got so… Anyway, this is Gareth, Netty’s husband, and Callum, their lad. And this is Bella and you know Adam, our new laird.’

Bella caught the slight tension on Adam’s face at the introduction. She jumped into the conversation. ‘You’re Netty’s husband?’

The man nodded. ‘Aye.’

The younger man piped up. ‘And you’re the famous Bella? I’ve only been home two days and I’m glad she’s on this sponsored silence because she won’t stop telling us about you on that bloody notepad. If she could talk my ear would be worn off by now.’

‘Oh.’ Bella smiled. ‘Well I’m glad I made an impression, I think.’

‘Don’t worry. It’s all positive. You’re a powerhouse, apparently.’

Bella didn’t know what to say to that. She’d always thought of herself as more of a drifter than a mover or a shaker.

‘How long are you back for, Cal?’

‘Just for the next week. Uni finished and I’ve got a month or so before my new job starts. Marketing.’

‘In London,’ his father added.

Hugh sucked the air through his teeth.

‘I know,’ Callum laughed. ‘It’s practically France.’

‘Worse than France. England.’ Hugh glanced at Bella. ‘No offence.’

The three men drained their pints. ‘We’ve got to get back,’ Callum explained. ‘Mum’s making spag bol.’

‘And I’m only supposed to be out walking this little lady.’

The trio headed out and Bella and Adam settled back onto the bench Hugh had vacated. ‘So this is where you did all your teenage high jinx?’ she asked.

‘Oh no. Mr Taggart was a stickler and he knew everyone’s birthdays. He kept a little list behind the bar, so there was no way you were getting served underage. We used to have to nick whisky from our parents’ cupboards and drink it on the lochside. Or out in Pav’s granddad’s boat.’

‘You were drinking whisky when you were a teenager?’ Bella was impressed. ‘Hardcore.’

‘Well it’s basically your patriotic duty around here.’

‘So for this cookery school idea…’ she started.

Adam closed his eyes. ‘Can we not?’

‘Not what?’

‘Not talk about the estate tonight.’ His expression was one of weariness. ‘Just for this evening.’

‘Sorry. It’s supposed to be a night off, isn’t it?’

‘That was the idea, yeah.’

‘All right then.’ She took a long drag from her pint. Hugh was right. It tasted like dishwater. ‘What shall we talk about?’

‘Tell me something about you that I don’t know yet.’

‘OK.’ What was there? Compared with being a laird and growing up in a castle, Bella’s life hadn’t been that noteworthy so far. ‘There’s not much to tell.’

‘How did you get into food?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What got you started with it?’

She shook her head. ‘Everyone’s into food. You have to eat, don’t you? So, I guess that’s what got me started.’

‘No. Well yes, everyone has to eat, but you light up when you taste something amazing and when you’re actually cooking you’re just lost in it. Most people aren’t like that.’

Maybe that was true, but it was incomprehensible to her. How could you not get lost in a perfect piece of dark chocolate, just sweet and creamy enough, or in the scent of a chicken, coated with just a dash of garlic, lemon and black pepper, roasting in the oven?

‘Did you cook with your mum?’

‘Oh God no. She could barely make toast. It was my nan.’ She could still see herself back in the kitchen in her nan’s flat, rolling out biscuit dough or standing up on tiptoes to take a taste of whatever Nan was cooking from the edge of her wooden spoon. She could remember her nan asking her, ‘What else does it need?’ She smiled. ‘I love that it’s never quite the same twice when you cook something. You can take the same ingredients and do the same thing but then sometimes when you taste it, it needs a dash more salt, or a squeeze of lemon, but then other times it’s just right already. But you don’t know until you taste. I can never get bored of it.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. That sounds mad, doesn’t it?’

‘No. That’s how I feel about plants. You do everything you know you should and then you have to wait for the weather and the season to change, and sometimes the soil just isn’t right even though you were sure it would be, so you have to change your plan and plant something different. A garden is never really finished, you know. You can always go back in and plant something new or prune something back or move something that’s not thriving like it should be. You have to keep sort of listening to it and tending to it, you know?’

‘Like a perfect slow-cooked casserole,’ she confirmed.

‘If you say so.’

They downed two more pints of McKenzie beer, which Bella had to admit improved the more you drank, and talked about nothing and everything. Their bodies leaned towards one another automatically and her fingers wrapped around his as the evening meandered by. Eventually Pavel wandered over. ‘You’re the last pair standing.’

Adam looked around the pub. At some point the people around them had drifted away. He checked his watch. Ten thirty. ‘Sorry mate. Do you want to close up?’

‘No rush.’

‘It’s fine,’ Adam reassured him. ‘We’re walking back so we should get going.’

‘You should have said. I just had a dram with Young Man Strachan, otherwise I’d have driven you.’

‘It’s not a problem. We can stagger through the sheep.’ Adam took Bella’s hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘They’ll be delighted to see you, I’m sure.’

‘Those bloody sheep.’

Pavel raised a questioning eyebrow.

‘They seem to have adopted Bel as their leader,’ Adam explained.

Pavel laughed as he walked them to the door. ‘So what are you actually up to at the moment?’

‘Mostly failing my grandmother’s crash course in estate management.’

‘Well if you fancy a day’s labouring any time let me know. If you’re still up to it.’

‘I’m still up to it.’ Adam was indignant. ‘So long as you’re not as tough a taskmaster as your granddad.’

Pavel grinned. ‘I make no promises.’

Adam wrapped his arm around his fiancée as they made their way out into the night.

‘It’s such a long walk,’ she moaned.

‘I know.’ It was really too far. ‘Why don’t we go the short way?’

‘The Low Bridge?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Didn’t you close it?’

‘Well I put a sign up and some tape across.’

Bella pulled a face. ‘I thought that was horribly dangerous.’

‘I mean, I wouldn’t take a pushchair across it.’

‘Right.’ Bella rested her head against him. ‘Would you go across it at all if you were fully sober?’

That was a very excellent question. ‘Probably not.’ Adam, however, had the perfect rebuttal. ‘But I am not fully sober.’

Bella giggled. ‘Neither am I!’

‘Come on then.’ He led the way down to the side of the burn. The path to the bridge was overgrown from disuse but it was still there and they picked their way through the brambles, giggling and clinging to one another until they reached the bridge itself. If anything, it was in a worse state than Adam remembered. ‘So the key here I think is to go slowly, and keep your weight towards the edges where the planks rest on the side supports.’

Bella nodded seriously.

‘Cos it’s stronger there because…’ He knew this. He built arches and bridges. He shook his head. ‘Because of science.’

‘Yeah. Science,’ Bella agreed. ‘Who’s going first?’

‘You’re lighter.’

‘Right.’ She stopped. ‘Sorry. Does that mean I should go first to test it out or you should go first cos it’s only going to get weaker?’

‘I don’t know.’

She giggled again. ‘I’ll go first.’

He watched as she edged her way across the bridge, feet wide to the sides, holding on to what was left of the hand rail. She jumped off the end at the other side and span round, hands aloft in victory. ‘Your turn.’

Adam stepped onto the bridge. First step – so far, so good. Nothing was moving underneath him. There were no ominous creaks. He went further. Second step, and then third. It couldn’t be more than fifteen, at most, to the other side. Fourth step, fifth. Was that a hint of a wobble under his foot? He stopped still and took a deep breath in. Sixth step, seventh, eighth. More than a wobble now. The wood under his left foot groaned. He knew the crack was coming before he felt it. He hopped his foot up and lurched forward. The movement shifted everything and he landed at first onto the wooden deck, allowing him a blissful moment of thinking it was OK, before the floor beneath him disappeared and he was falling.

‘Adam!’ He heard Bella squeal on the bank and then she was scrambling down towards him. Their bodies met in the water. She grabbed his arm and tried for a second to hold him up before they both fell, her on top of him, pushing him backwards until he was lying on his back on the bottom of the stream, half covered in water, with a damp, red-faced Bella spreadeagled on top of him. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine. Wet,’ he laughed. ‘Very wet.’

She pushed his damp hair out of his face. ‘I don’t think the bridge is safe, you know.’

‘No.’

They hauled themselves up to standing and clambered up the riverbank, added a layer of mud to their wet legs and hands.

‘You’re sure you’re all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ he reassured her.

‘I was trying to save you.’ She waved a hand back towards the water. ‘I thought I was being heroic.’

They both fell into another fit of laughter. ‘I appreciate the effort,’ he managed.

‘Come on.’ She grinned. ‘I want to get you back and get you out of those wet things.’

He took her hand as they walked up towards the coach house, Bella excitedly retelling the drama of the fall from her vantage point on the bank, sharing fits of laughter at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

Adam glanced back. The Low Bridge was gone, literally collapsed beneath him. It didn’t seem that funny any more.