Chapter 37
Thirty-seven
The low-beamed ceiling and mismatched furniture welcomed them home with the lingering scent of the casserole Tina had barely remembered to shove into the simmering oven before racing out.
She had never been more grateful for the familiar embrace of the tiny cottage.
Hamish’s satchel lay on the kitchen table, and the sight of it – an ordinary domestic detail – made her heart swell with unexpected gratitude.
Elspeth limped slightly as they helped her upstairs, her school uniform torn and grass-stained, mud still clinging to her shoes despite Tina’s attempts to clean her up, first in the Land Rover, then when sitting with her on the back seat of their own car while Hamish drove the family home.
‘Into your pyjamas, sweetheart,’ Tina murmured, pulling Elspeth’s favourite pair from the drawer – soft cotton, printed with tiny horses. The familiar ritual of bedtime felt precious now, almost sacred after the terrifying uncertainty of the evening.
She helped Elspeth change. The child’s face was pale but determined, trying hard to be brave, even as her bottom lip trembled with exhaustion and the slow creep of delayed shock.
Tina kept her voice calm and her smile wide, but inside, her thoughts churned. Relief – that fierce, all-consuming kind that arrived only after the worst had nearly happened – rushed through her. But alongside it came something else: a vow, quiet but iron clad.
This family would not become like Lady Penelope’s.
Not cold and polite, each person orbiting the others without ever truly touching.
They were going to stay connected – messy, imperfect, but real.
She had to make Hamish understand why she had hidden her secret for so long, that it was because she loved him so fiercely and didn’t want to let him down in front of his family.
Hamish perched on the edge of Elspeth’s bed, his historian hands gentle as he tucked the blanket around her legs.
Tina noticed the way he brushed a curl from Elspeth’s cheek, then looked across at Tina with eyes full of tenderness.
He let out a single soft ‘huh’, then reached across the bed and briefly touched her hand.
She squeezed his fingers – a silent thank you and apology, wrapped into one.
‘Tell us what happened, love,’ Hamish said softly. ‘From the beginning.’
Elspeth’s voice was small but clear. ‘We only wanted to see the wood. For the play, you know? Ben said it would be perfect for the Forest of Arden – all mysterious and magical.’ Her eyes brightened briefly at the memory of their excitement.
‘We were going to convince the school to stage As You Like It there instead of in the theatre. It was going to be brilliant.’
Tina smoothed a strand of hair from Elspeth’s forehead.
‘Why did you take Molly?’ she asked.
‘She was following us anyway, and Ben said she’d be good company.
’ Her voice caught, she swallowed and carried on.
‘Dogs are lucky, aren’t they?’ Elspeth’s logic was heartbreakingly innocent.
Hamish reached for his daughter’s hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into her palm.
He cleared his throat and asked, ‘what went wrong, sweetheart?’
‘There was this hole – a rabbit hole, we think. Ben stepped right in it and his foot got stuck. When he tried to pull it out, his ankle went all funny.’ Elspeth’s eyes filled with tears at the memory.
‘He couldn’t walk properly, and it was getting dark so fast. I was trying to help him lean on me, but I’m not very strong. ’
Tina’s heart clenched at the image of her slight daughter trying to shoulder a boy nearly a foot taller than her. She looked over at Hamish again, and this time he reached out for her hand. Elspeth noticed – and smiled.
‘Then what happened?’ Hamish prompted.
‘We were going down this slope, and the leaves were so slippery, all wet and slimy from the rain.’ Elspeth shuddered. ‘Ben was limping, and I was trying to be his crutch, but then my foot just . . . went. I slid right into this big fallen tree and then couldn’t catch my breath’
She touched her ribs gingerly, and Tina lifted Elspeth’s top, wincing at the sight of the mushrooming bruise.
‘We were both hurt then, and it was properly dark. And neither of us had our phones.’
Tina frowned, leaning forward in the soft lamplight. ‘Wait . . . hold on. Why did you and Ben leave your phones behind?’
Elspeth hesitated, her fingers twisting the duvet cover.
‘Elspeth . . . there’s more isn’t there? Come on, please tell me. Secrets always come out in the end.’
Elspeth screwed up her eyes, then finally spoke, her voice barely audible. ‘It wasn’t an accident, I . . . I planned it.’
Tina’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Planned it?’ she gasped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ Elspeth said, swallowing hard, ‘I engineered it. Ben and I— we left our phones behind on purpose.’ Her cheeks flushed.
‘I thought if we got a little lost, you both—’ She faltered, then pressed on ‘—you’d have to come after us.
I wanted you to worry, to team up, to . .
. well, I’ve seen how you are when you have a shared project—’
Hamish let out a low whistle.
‘Elspeth, tell me this isn’t true,’ Tina said, her tone trembling somewhere between incredulity and alarm. Her daughter was so distraught by her parent’s relationship she had pulled a dangerous stunt.
‘I swear I didn’t mean for us to get hurt,’ Elspeth rushed on. ‘Or to stay out so late. It just . . . spiralled. I truly didn’t think it would go that far.’
Silence.
‘Well . . . that’s one way to get your parents’ attention,’ Hamish muttered, half to himself.
Tina ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. ‘Elspeth, that was reckless. Really reckless.’
‘I know,’ Elspeth said quietly, her voice almost lost in the shadows of the room. ‘I know.’
Tina reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand, a little gentler now, her initial shock softening into concern.
‘Just . . . promise me, no more schemes like that,’ she said firmly.
Elspeth nodded. Hamish gave a small, wry smile.
‘At least it ended with everyone safe,’ he said, though his tone carried the weight of a lesson learned.
Elspeth’s voice grew smaller. ‘That’s because of Molly. She started barking. She knew we were in trouble. She kept running back toward the house, then back to us, like she was trying to tell someone where we were. I think we should get a dog, don’t you?’
‘Maybe,’ Hamish murmured, making Tina smile.
‘Molly kept us warm. Ben said his father would come to the woods when he noticed she was missing. We just had to wait.’ Elspeth yawned, the adrenaline finally ebbing. ‘I’m sorry we worried you, Mummy. We didn’t mean to cause such a fuss.’
Tina leaned down to kiss her daughter’s forehead, breathing in the sweet scent of shampoo edged with mud. ‘You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.’
She tucked Elspeth in with an extra blanket, then turned to the doorway where Hamish stood waiting, and as Tina passed him, he reached out and gently touched the small of her back. She looked at him, surprised, then smiled up at him. He brushed a kiss on her temple.
Elspeth, already on the edge of sleep, watched them with half-lidded eyes.
‘Mummy?’ she murmured sleepily.
‘Yes, darling?’
‘I like it when you and Daddy are nice to each other. It makes everything feel . . . warm.’
Tina crossed to the bed and bent to kiss her child, tears stinging her eyes. ‘Me too, sweetheart. Me too.’
Hamish switched off the lights and reached out for Tina’s hand. She squeezed his tightly. As they stepped out into the hallway together, Tina didn’t let go.
Downstairs, they moved around each other in the tiny kitchen space with studied politeness, careful not to brush sleeves or meet each other’s eyes.
‘I’ll make us a cup of tea.’ she said.
‘Lovely, thank you.’
The kettle hissed into life. Time stretched between them, measured in small, unnecessary movements.
Tina stood at the sink, watching the steam rise from the kettle.
She felt an absurd urge to cry. Behind her, she could sense Hamish’s presence.
He wasn’t touching her, but his proximity was a warmth she hadn’t realised she’d missed so badly.
She wished they’d talked properly after the school play, but since then, they had only spent a few evenings together – and those had been devoted to Elspeth, Flora’s dementia, or the loving cup which had seemed the most crucial topics to discuss.
‘I keep thinking about what could have happened,’ she said finally, her words scarcely louder than the breath that carried them.
‘But it didn’t,’ Hamish replied, stepping even closer. ‘She’s safe. They both are.’
Tina turned to face him, and something in her expression seemed to stop him mid-breath. The terror of the evening had peeled back their layers of politeness and reserve, leaving something raw, something real.
‘I couldn’t bear it if something happened to her,’ she said. She bunched her fists, then added. ‘Or to us. I don’t want to drift apart, Hamish! But I’ve been so bloody cowardly, unsure of everything, I haven’t dared tell you—’
‘It’s not just you,’ Hamish said, his voice thick with emotion.
He reached up slowly, as if afraid she might pull away, and brushed her cheek with a fingertip.
‘I’ve been living like a ghost in my own life.
Hiding in the past because the present felt too complicated.
I promise that’s going to change. I promise you darling, in future, I’m going to be spending a lot less time in the sixteenth century.
You and Elspeth need me here with you in the twenty-first.’
‘And I promise,’ she replied, ‘whatever I do next, it’ll be for us – for you and Elspeth.’