Epilogue
AUTUMN, TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER, THE ISLE OF MULL
We named you Iona Joy Fernsby-Wray after your great-aunt Joy and an island she adored.
She would have loved you to pieces. To know you’re growing up on Mull and will have the freedom of a childhood spent outdoors would have made her very happy.
I’m sure she knows. I always think of her when I spot a sea eagle soaring over.
Extract from Tilly’s journal
Mull’s Duart Castle was silhouetted against the grey moody clouds and the sea was a choppy swirl of white-tipped waves.
Tilly breathed in the freshness of the November afternoon as spits of icy rain splattered down.
She zipped up her raincoat and stuffed her hands in the pockets.
The weather had kept the other passengers sensibly inside, but after weeks of being away, she wanted to gauge how she felt as Mull drew closer.
She was heading home with her family.
A smile broke across her face. Even the rain couldn’t dampen her spirit at that thought.
When her cheeks began to sting with the cold, she returned inside to the ferry’s crowded seating area.
Barney was by their rucksacks and Logan was pacing up and down with Iona strapped to his chest in the baby carrier.
Her cries cut across the jumbled conversations.
Logan’s eyes met hers, conveying a tired ‘oh my God she’s been crying non-stop – when on earth are we going to reach dry land? ’
Tilly crossed over to them, dropped a kiss on the top of Iona’s head and placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder.
‘It’s not far now,’ she said.
Iona didn’t stop crying for the rest of the ferry journey or the drive back.
It was only when they reached the tunnel of trees close to Knock that signalled they were nearly home that her cries began to falter as exhaustion took over.
The landscape was muted, with even the autumnal reds and yellows dulled in the fading light and incessant drizzle.
By the time they turned into the lane to the house, Iona was fast asleep.
‘Typical.’ Logan chuckled, gesturing to their daughter, who finally looked calm and angelic in her car seat, with rosebud lips and pink cheeks.
Not that Tilly could blame her for crying her eyes out. She’d probably had enough of travelling, because Tilly certainly had. For the first time in her life, she was longing to stay put in one place for the foreseeable future, to put down roots.
The memories of the previous times she’d driven through the gate of Loch View House assaulted her as she pulled up on the drive. This time felt even more special than when they’d arrived back three months before with newborn Iona.
Three weeks had been too long to be away. From being someone who had spent her life on the move, she had become a real homebody. A sense of peace settled as she scooped up the car seat with a sleeping Iona and followed Logan and Barney inside.
During the two years they’d lived here, they’d stamped their personality on Loch View House while retaining its charm and the homeliness Joy had created.
The kitchen had become Tilly’s favourite room and was still very much the heart of the house as it had been when Joy was alive.
Logan was the much better cook, but Tilly had continued to nurture Joy’s vegetable garden.
The slower pace of life and the proximity to nature suited her.
She’d transitioned her business from being a property developer to one that focused on interior design.
With a portfolio of houses, she had the freedom and the means to let up on the constant buying, renovating and selling and to concentrate on the aspect she loved the most, something she’d wanted to do since she’d been a student.
The promise Tilly and Logan had made to each other to find happiness together had been simple, but putting it into practice had thrown up challenges and compromises.
With his roots firmly in Edinburgh, it had been harder for Logan to make the move, even if a life with Tilly was everything he’d ever wanted and he had a place at Cal’s new units to move his business.
Tilly’s almost nomadic lifestyle had meant she had fewer ties, and her focus on work had shone a light on her loneliness.
Although she had friends in Newcastle and other friends scattered far and wide, it had been easy to sell her house and move away from the city, while wiping her hands clean of the past. Logan had her heart and she would have followed him anywhere.
She was just grateful that the place they were going to set up home and build a life together was somewhere as beautiful as the Isle of Mull.
They’d got married not long after they’d both turned thirty-six, a quiet affair with just friends at the Tobermory Registry Office, followed by a raucous reception at The Loch Tavern hosted by Rosie and Gill.
They honeymooned on the Amalfi Coast, then focused on turning Loch View House into their home while setting up their businesses on Mull, although they took time out to visit Logan’s dad when he was in London and they spent a few days in Dubai with Tilly’s dad and his wife.
Not long after their first wedding anniversary, Tilly discovered she was pregnant and their new life on Mull started to feel complete.
They loved to travel, so that autumn after their daughter was born, they spent three weeks travelling the Scottish North Coast 500 route in the campervan with a three-month-old and a dog.
Barney had effortlessly slipped into his new role as Iona’s protective shadow.
Even though Tilly’s campervan had been fixed after the accident in Cumbria, she’d eventually traded it in for a larger one – a decision that had proved essential with their growing family.
Jean’s son had been in touch with Tilly to thank her for her kindness and apologise because his mum shouldn’t have been driving in the first place.
Jean’s decision to get behind the wheel had resulted in a stay in hospital and her moving into an assisted living unit, but at least she wasn’t far from her son and his family.
It was hard to believe that this was her life – living on Mull with her best friend and husband, their dog and baby girl.
She often wondered what Joy would have made of it and whether this was the future she’d envisaged for them.
Tilly continued journaling, writing it as much for herself as it was for Joy, jotting down all the good things as a reminder about how far she’d come.
Of course there were challenges and moments when Tilly missed elements of her old life in Newcastle and the freedom she’d had, but what she’d gained overshadowed it all.
Her life on Mull was filled with happiness, something she hadn’t thought possible a few short years before.
* * *
There was no better feeling than sleeping in their own bed with Iona in her Moses basket next to them and Barney on the floor – although perhaps waking up to her family after a pretty decent sleep topped it.
They were back on Mull in time for the opening of the second phase of the creative hub at Garvie Farm, a lunchtime affair with invited guests, the creatives that were already based there, and food served from their award-winning café.
It was refreshing to wear trousers and a blouse, rather than the jeans and a hoodie combo she’d opted for on holiday. Logan scrubbed up well in smart jeans and a jumper, favouring comfort over style, which suited the relaxed vibe. Iona looked adorable in a woodland-themed Babygro.
As they left the house, Màiri was just pulling out of Wood Farm with her husband and Ivor in the car.
They were back on Mull for a few days and they’d be back again at Christmas, with Màiri’s brother and his family joining them.
Ivor had begrudgingly accepted Tilly’s offer to buy Wood Farm.
Between Tilly and Màiri, they’d written an agreement which allowed Ivor and his family use of Wood Farm for a certain number of weeks a year, then Tilly was free to rent it out as a holiday let for the rest of the time.
In the end, Ivor had had little choice but to sell when his health had deteriorated to the point he couldn’t live on his own – a stroke had caused the fall when he’d broken his hip – and his desire to be close to his family had won him over.
Of course Tilly benefitted too, but it had also felt good to find a way to help Ivor and to keep the family’s connection to the island alive.
Some changes and updates had been made, but the heart and soul of Wood Farm remained.
Màiri hadn’t bought the farmhouse in Cumbria, but neither had Stefan.
Tilly had zero regrets there. Màiri did take the idea, though, and ran with it, firstly moving her dad in with her in Inverness and then she and her husband bought a large house with a couple of acres of land close to the River Tay outside Dundee.
It had everything they needed: space, a manageable amount of garden and good transport links to cities, while being reasonably close to the countryside.
It may not have been Mull, but it was a compromise they’d all been happy with.
Màiri’s husband had continued working in Manchester until the sale went through, finding a new job in Edinburgh once Màiri had made the move from Inverness with her father.
Over the past couple of years, Garvie Farm was somewhere they’d come to frequently and Tilly’s opinion of the place and her feelings for Cal had changed drastically. Most importantly, there were no nerves or regrets as they turned onto the farm lane.