Page 40 of The Boathouse By the Loch

‘Yeah, I invited him to join me at The Winky. I did warn him,though, that I was drowning my sorrows, so he might not get a coherent word out of me.’

‘Yes, shame that the idea of the plush hotel in town didn’t work out.’ Gayle turned around and smiled to herself. ‘So, before you head out,’ Gayle said, keeping up the pretence that he’d be going anywhere that night, ‘You must join me for some stew.’

‘Stew?’

She caught David’s eyes widening. ‘You know what? I was going to grab a takeaway. Don’t want you to go to any trouble.’

‘It’s no trouble.’ Gayle knew he was only being kind. ‘I insist.’ He’d tasted her stew, and probably didn’t want to again. ‘I have a new recipe.’ Gayle really couldn’t take the credit. She’d memorised the condiments she’d caught Jake putting back in the cupboard. He’d spared her feelings by not mentioning that he’d added them when she’d nipped out of the kitchen the previous evening to catch David before he left. But she was happy that the addition had made it delicious.

She hadn’t decided whether David had been avoiding Jake or her food the previous evening. She’d guessed a little of both. He hadn’t been in the mood for company, or her stew.

This evening was going to turn out very differently. Jake was gone, unexpectedly. Although she would never wish anyone ill, and certainly hadn’t liked hearing that Natty was missing, she was convinced the little girl would turn up safe and well. She’d also thought Jake’s leaving was for the best. Marty was out with college friends. Gayle had had a word with Nick, telling him to make himself scarce.

Gayle had set up the dining room for a romantic meal for two. She had lit two candles on the dining room table and had put low-wattage bulbs in both the standard lamp with the large, old-fashioned flowered lampshade in the corner and in the small lamp on the bookshelves in one alcove. She had lit the log fire. Easy chairs were placed either side of the fire for guests to sit and enjoy reading in front of the open fire after dinner. Gayle was going to make herself scarce in case Robyn and David wanted to sit in the cosy lounge across the hall instead. She’d put coal on the open fire in there too. When the temperature dropped in the evenings, even in summer, it could be quite chilly in the large, old house. Although she did wonder if she was overdoing it a bit, lighting two fires.

The rooms downstairs – the lounge, dining room and kitchen – were free for guests to use if they wished. But tonight, with no tourists staying the night, and only Marty and Nick in residence, both of whom had been told to make themselves scarce, the guest house harked back to before it was Lark Lodge, and there had just been Gayle and her mother, Nick, Marty, and of course Robyn.

Gayle said, ‘Feels like old times.’

David was just putting the fresh towels in the bathroom and collecting the used ones. ‘What was that?’ He stepped back into the bedroom.

‘Oh, nothing.’ Gayle tried to contain her grin. ‘Here, let me take those.’ Gayle put the towels into her linen basket, along with the sheets she’d just stripped from the bed.

‘Shall I carry this downstairs?’

‘Good idea.’

David was about to take the basket out of her hands when his eyes drifted over to the bed. ‘Hey, what’s that?’

Gayle turned around, holding the linen basket in two hands.

David dived on to the bed and reached for something on the bedside table. He held up a small photo of a young boy. ‘I think he left this behind.’

He turned over the photo. ‘Ralph. The boy’s name is Ralph.’

Gayle put the linen basket on the bed. ‘Let me see.’

David passed her the photo. ‘He said he had something he wanted to show me,’ commented David. ‘I’m wondering if it was this photo. I’m not sure why it would be, though.’

‘Ah, I recognise this.’ Gayle nodded. ‘Jake showed me this photo. He asked me if I recognised the child.’

‘Ralph.’

Gayle glanced at David. ‘Yes, according to what is written on the back of the photo.’

‘Did you recognise the boy?’

Gayle remembered the conversation. Jake had looked at her expectantly, as though she knew everyone in Aviemore, which she did not. In fact, when she’d turned the photo over, and had spotted the name Ralph, she’d asked Jake who the boy in the photo was.

‘Martha’s son.’ Gayle remembered.

‘Who?’

‘Oh, it’s a long story. A lady called Martha who lives locally is searching for her son, and Jake is trying to help. Sounds like she gave the child up for adoption. At first, I assumed he was searching for a missing child, but it turns out this photo was taken some years ago.’

‘I spotted the date on the back,’ commented David.

‘I guess he’s in his thirties now.’

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