PART TWO

2016

"Shit." I groaned as I finished reading the email that had just appeared in my inbox. This was the last thing I needed.

Alice's head shot up and she looked sharply at me. "What's up?" she asked immediately. Alice had became my assistant manager shortly after I took over the running of the Thorne Inn, my dad's hotel. I guess it was my hotel now, actually, but three years had passed since I'd been effectively gifted it, and I still struggled to think of it that way.

"That guy I had lined up to replace you, Paul? He's just emailed to say he's got a better offer." Frustration pulsed through my veins; it had taken me ages to find a suitable person for Alice's maternity cover. And she was finishing up in a matter of weeks. Less than three weeks, in fact.

"Shit indeed," she agreed, making a face. "You want me to re-advertise? Or contact a recruitment agency?" She was already reaching for the phone. But I couldn't let this be her issue; I knew she already felt irrationally guilty for "leaving me in the lurch" as she put it.

"Don't worry about it; I'll think of something," I assured her. Even if I just had to up my own hours as a temporary measure.

It's not like you exactly have much else going on in your life anyway, a little voice inside my brain taunted me.

It wasn't wrong. Apart from the occasional trip to the pub, I was pretty much as permanent a fixture in the hotel as the king-sized beds in the luxury rooms. If I wasn't working, I was sleeping, exercising or reading. Those were my default activities these days.

I was relatively content with this life though. For now anyway. Was running this hotel my dream? Not even remotely. Was it exhausting? Often.

Was it better than the life I'd left down south though? Significantly.

My life was completely different from my life three years ago. Apart from one thing. One memory I just couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried.

Eventually, I'd just given up trying. I just let myself fester in it now.

"Are you sure?" Alice looked concerned, and I loved her for that. She'd very quickly became my closest friend up here, and I knew she'd do almost anything to make my life easier. "I honestly don't mind helping you find a new replacement."

"Honestly, you're fine. I'm on it."

"Okay, if you're really sure." She stood up. "Now, can you get the hell out of here? It's meant to be your day off, in case you'd forgotten."

"Yes boss," I laughed, with a mock salute in her direction. I logged out of the computer and headed back towards my room, wondering what I was actually going to do with my day. Apart from worry about finding a new Alice, obviously.

My eyes drifted to the Facebook app on my phone. It was so tempting to look her up again, see if there was any more information I could glean from her account. But any new Intel was few and far between; she didn't seem to share much on there. Maybe she somehow knew I was snooping and didn't want me to see? I laughed scornfully at that thought as soon as it popped into my head - she probably didn't even think about me.

Gym, I decided, pulling out a t-shirt and shorts and hunting around for my earphones. An hour or so of pounding the treadmill and lifting weights with some rock music blasting in my ears would sort me out, albeit temporarily.

After working out and showering, I noticed I had a missed call from my mum so I rang her back. She was one of a handful of people I actually was willing to speak to on the phone, and I hadn't actually visited in a couple of months, so I missed her.

"I felt like we were due a catch-up," she said excitedly. "Tell me what's going on in your life."

Precisely fuck all, mum.

So I told her about work instead. About losing Alice's replacement. About the ridiculous customer complaints we'd received over the festive period. I had no personal life to discuss, after all. And I think my mum could tell because she eventually asked, tentatively, "So you've not met anyone . . . Special yet then?"

Every fucking time.

"I'm not looking to get involved with anyone right now, Mum," I sighed. It had got to the point where I should just record that sentence and replay it every time she asked.

"What's going on with you?" I quickly changed the subject. "Not working today?" My mum had worked in the local library for years now.

"I took a few days off," she giggled. "Having a wee afternoon prosecco right now, actually." I heard her pour some more fizz into a glass and couldn't help but laugh along. Maybe that's how I should spend the rest of my day. "And then I'm going over to see Marie later on."

I stiffened at the mention of Iona's mother. "Oh? How's Marie getting on?" I asked, as casually as I could.

"She's doing well," my mum gushed. She and Marie had been thick as thieves since the day they first met all those years ago. "Think she's still getting used to having Iona back living in the house though!"

What? My heart stuttered in my chest.

"Iona . . . Iona's staying there now?" I asked faintly.

"Yeah, didn't I say? It's a long story, I'll tell you about it another time. Anyway . . ."

I don't think I absorbed one more word she said after that though. I sank onto my bed, staring blankly at the loch outside my window. "Ryan?" My mum asked eventually. "Are you still there?"

"Sorry, yes! Got distracted by a work thing," I replied hurriedly. "Listen, I really need to go. We'll talk soon, okay? Love you."

My hands were shaking as I ended the call and dropped the phone next to me.

Iona.

My brain had abruptly transformed itself into an over-complicated word jumble, impossible to comprehend. But eventually only one sentence, one thought, could form.

I need to see her.

I was halfway down the A9 road before I realised I hadn't even brought a jacket with me.

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