‘See you back here in forty minutes. You must not be late, otherwise we lose time in the vineyards, you understand?’ instructed Gino.
We all mumbled in agreement and set off into the village. I was mesmerised by the view to our right: miles and miles of beautiful, rolling Tuscan fields.
‘He’s very good-looking, that journalist guy,’ said Sophia, watching Aidan as he thankfully walked off ahead.
Rosamund tittered, clearly agreeing with her. This was worse than I’d feared.
Loch Lomond
Two Years Earlier
The beach was pitch black except for the lights from the hotel behind me. Letting my eyes accustom to the darkness, I sat down near the shore, wrapping myself in the world’s cosiest tartan blanket (strategically borrowed from my room). I began to pick out the shapes of the mountains on the other side of the loch. I couldn’t remember which one Aidan had said was the tallest. Ben Lomond, I think he’d said it was called.
I had my trusty notebook with me and had planned to write some notes for the next day while I was down here, but I pretty swiftly worked out that it was too dark and I’d have to just think for now, and hope I remembered everything when I got back to my room and could write it down. We were going out on the lake on a water bus tomorrow and Tim had asked me to help him prep the script, by which he meant do all of the research and give him all of the information so that he could pass the whole thing off as his own work.
I clicked the end of my biro up and down, thinking. What would our viewers want to know about the water bus trip? What would persuade them to want to come to Loch Lomond?
‘Hello.’
I looked up to see Aidan towering over me. He had a blanket around his shoulders, too and was clutching a tumbler in each hand.
‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ I said, putting my notebook down.
‘You’re still working,’ he said, lowering himself onto the pebbles.
‘Sadly.’
‘Whisky?’ he said, offering me a glass.
‘I shouldn’t.’
I’d already had two glasses of wine with dinner and the last thing I needed was a hangover in the morning. I wanted to get up early and do a recce of the pier, where we’d be catching the boat from later in the day. Then again, it was tempting. When in Rome, right?
‘Go on then,’ I said, taking it from him.
I twirled the glass around in my hand. I liked how the ice sounded when it clinked against the side.
‘How was the footage from earlier?’ asked Aidan, leaning back on his elbows and looking out across the water.
‘Great, actually. Lou’s really good. She somehow made Ruthie look as though she was an accomplished, confident kayaker. And, to Ruthie’s credit, she managed to fake having a good time.’
‘Thatisimpressive,’ he said, smiling.
I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, listening to the water lapping gently on the pebbles.
‘Do you smell that?’ I said, still with my eyes closed.
‘Smell what?’ he asked.
‘Heather. If you concentrate hard enough, you can smell it on the wind. It’s sweet. Tangy. Go on, try.’
He was silent for a bit. I imagined him with his eyes closed, too, sniffing at the air.
‘I’ve got it,’ he said eventually.
My eyes popped open. In the distance, I could hear the soft sound of bagpipes, the evocative local music they’d been playing in the lodge’s restaurant all night.