Page 48 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape (Scottish Escapes #9)

December, twelve months later

I bristled with anticipation. Then I realised I was grinning.

With one excited, nervous finger, I pressed ‘Send’ and watched my new, feel-good romance, The Lighthouse at Rowan Bay, make its way to Mia.

Mitch has reignited in me my belief in love and romance.

He’d made me realise, over the last few months, that I had missed being an author and how much it meant to me, that I wasn’t Rosie Winters without it.

With this had also come clarity. All that time, Joe had made me think that I had to have him in my life, in order to write.

He’d gaslighted me, made me believe that he was the source of my ability.

Now, I knew differently.

You can imagine how delighted both Mia and Lola were to hear that I’d decided to return to my romance writing. They both insisted they’d been sure I could never have given up on it– not really– but I think underneath it all, at the time they had been concerned I meant it. Which I did.

I’ve now got a brand-new, three-book deal from my publishers, so that will keep me out of mischief for a while!

Mitch and I, along with Kane and Bronte, are settled together and now all live in my grandparent’s cottage.

It’s rather chaotic, with our two fur babies bounding about, but it’s convenient for Mitch for his lighthouse duties; the views over the bay and the harbour are spectacular and very inspirational for my writing and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We were two very broken people who found each other, and I’m so happy we did.

There are so many wonderful memories of my mum, dad and grandparents built into these walls, and we hope to be adding to them day by day.

I’ve converted Grandma’s studio into my writing room, but I made sure it still retains traces of her.

The ornamental butterflies remain on the shelf above the fireplace, and Mitch put up three of my personal favourite paintings of hers on the walls.

I kept her old desk; Mitch and I cleaned it up and it still resides in its original place.

She’d be happy to know that her granddaughter is using it now for her own artistic endeavours!

The gorgeous, towering, strong and dependable lighthouse means even more to us now than it did before. It’s as if it showed Mitch and me the way, not just the shipping vessels and boats which rely on it to reach home safely.

Mitch and Romilly’s decree nisi was confirmed in June. Romilly is marrying her fiancé, Oscar, in the spring. It looks like moving on and making new lives is catching.

The apartment in Hampstead was sold in March and all the legal papers have now been filed away. Another chapter of my life has ended.

Reece comes to visit us regularly from Edinburgh and Mitch and I have visited him in the capital. We have a link now, an invisible bond that binds us together with my much-missed grandma, and I know that link will never break. The love we both had for her, and still have, remains real and alive.

Ruth still owns the Lumiere Gallery and has just launched her latest exhibition. It’s by an up-and-coming young artist by the name of Noah Colton…

It transpired that Noah returned to painting after his accident at Mitch’s former outdoor activity centre and was also undertaking an Open University art degree course too.

One night a few months back, Mitch was talking again about Noah and what happened, so I did a bit of detective work, reached out to Noah through the magic of social media and discovered that the young man had decided to take up art again.

I then contacted Ruth, explained the situation and things moved quickly from there.

This has all put Mitch’s conscience a little more at ease.

Ruth is moving on with her life now and is doing everything she can to accept herself for who she is, and that’s all any of us can do. In fact, she and Reece seem to have become good friends, and he has been more than happy to help out at the gallery whenever he comes up for a few days.

Lola has been promoted to Editorial Director, which she is thrilled about, and as for Mia– well, she’s fallen hard for one of her new authors, a dashing American crime writer. Her air miles to and from New York are piling up, but James is a lovely guy and I couldn’t be happier for them.

I kept my word and I’m keeping in touch with Joe’s parents.

I know they feel somehow responsible for what happened, but Joe’s decision to have an affair was his and his alone.

Things will always be a bit odd between Nancy, Jeremy and I from now on.

The dynamics have changed. But I’ve moved on and I’ve told them they have to as well.

But the best news of all is that Mitch and I are about to get married! Yes, even on my wedding day, I’m tying up some loose ends because I wanted to get my latest book fired off to Mia. I suppose it feels like another new chapter beginning.

We wanted a small, simple affair, but Reece and Ruth had other ideas…

It’s the twenty-second of December, and Rowan Bay Church is decked out with garlands of holly, ivy, pine cones and berries.

Everyone is here to see Mitch and me start our married life together. Mia, Lola, Ruth and Reece of course, together with Barclay, Mags and all the other locals who have become such an important part of our lives– even Rhea Stafford!

After Mitch’s daring rescue of Rhea she apologised to me for being so nosey during our fraught conversation in her corner shop when I first arrived in Rowan Bay, and I apologised too for being so prickly.

She would always miss her Freddie, she told me, but that day when she’d fallen in the sea, brought clarity that she wanted to live her life for both her and her husband.

Sometimes it takes a moment like that to make you realise what’s important in life.

Everyone is wearing festive-coloured outfits. Mia and Lola look stunning as my two bridesmaids in their fitted, satin, knee-length cranberry boat neck dresses and matching bolero jackets.

I did invite Nancy and Jeremy, but they politely declined. As Joe’s parents and after what he did, I would’ve been surprised if they had accepted. But they sent a lovely letter to Mitch and me, wishing us all the happiness for the future and hoping that I’d keep in touch with them.

Even Kane and Bronte look resplendent, trotting down the church aisle ahead of me, Kane sporting a red bow tie and Bronte a gorgeous big pink bow tied around her neck.

A series of laughs, gasps and comments reverberate around the church.

I breathe in and smooth down my ankle-length, high-necked ivory wedding dress.

The air is frosty, but winter sunshine drizzles in through the stained-glass windows.

I adjust my faux fur cape around my shoulders.

I have a single, white tea rose clipped into my loose hair and the bouquet I’m clutching with happy but nervous fingers is a mixture of white lilies and white and cream roses.

On either side of me are Barclay and Reece. I couldn’t decide which one of them I wanted to walk me down the aisle, so I decided to be greedy and have both of them! They are both channelling James Bond in their dark suits and sharp ties.

And waiting for me down at the altar is Mitch. He looks so, so handsome in a navy and beige checked three-piece suit with a tweed tie.

He mouths, ‘You’re beautiful,’ and my heart zings as I clip towards him in my white, Victorian-style ankle boots.

The ceremony is over in a flash, confetti is thrown and when I toss my bouquet over my shoulder Mia elbows every other person out the way and catches it. She lets out a delighted ‘Whoop!’ which makes James laugh and wink at her enigmatically.

Then the photographs are taken.

Once that’s done, I slip away for a few moments to place a couple of flowers from my bouquet on my grandparents’ grave and spend a few quiet moments with them.

I tell them how much I love them and that they’re always with me.

I also say to my grandma that I hope her exhibition did her proud and that Ruth is so sorry for the awful way she treated her.

I decide to keep a few flowers from my bouquet and press them so I can put them in a little frame at my parents’ resting place in Ealing. I’ll take Mitch there when we go for a visit after Christmas.

I’ve only just returned to the church when Reece and Ruth take hold of Mitch and me. We’ve no idea what’s happening!

We find ourselves being led around the back of the church and past its glinting, jewel-like windows on a short but mysterious journey.

‘Now close your eyes, both of you,’ Reece instructs.

We do as we are told. ‘Now, open your eyes, but keep them trained ahead,’ said Ruth next, excitement rising in her voice.

Mitch and I gaze out at the shimmering horizon of the water and the frill of the cliffs.

‘Okay,’ says Reece. ‘Now turn to your right.’

We do as we’re told, and there stands the biggest, prettiest marquee I’ve ever seen, strung in rose-gold fairy lights.

The flaps to the marquee are open and we can see tables and chairs inside.

There are gorgeous Christmassy centrepieces on each table made up of festive candles and holly and huge red ribbons are tied to the back of every chair in enormous bows.

More lights are laced around the roof of the marquee and mobile heaters are stationed around to keep the wedding party cozy.

Mitch and I gawp at one another. It looks like something out of a fairytale.

‘Do you like it?’ asks Ruth.

‘We wanted to surprise you both,’ adds Reece with a bashful smile.

I’m finding it hard to talk. ‘But we thought we were just having a quiet reception in the town hall.’

‘Ha! As if,’ chuckles Reece.

We hug them. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I breathe, struggling for words.

Mitch gives Ruth a kiss on the cheek and Reece a slap on the back. ‘No wonder you two have been acting strange lately.’

‘No stranger than usual,’ jokes Reece, offering Ruth a delighted smile.

We greet the guests as they meander in, marvelling at the Christmas-themed beauty of it. Even Kane and Bronte, who are noshing on some kibble Rhea has fed them, seem impressed by it all.

Then Mitch steers me out of the marquee. The bay is gliding and whispering below.

He smooths his tie down in the sea breeze. ‘I got you this, Mrs Carlisle.’

I gaze down at the glittery, grey box wrapped in a silver ribbon which he has just plucked from his suit trouser pocket and has handed to me.

‘But we’ve already given each other those gorgeous crystal whiskey glasses.

’ I grin. ‘I think that was your idea of a warped joke. But I promise I won’t end up in the same delicate state as last time. ’

Mitch laughs, making his eyes crinkle in the December afternoon light. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’ He indicates to the box. ‘Well, go on. Open it.’

‘What is it?’

He rolls his eyes.

I gently tug the ribbon and slide off the box lid.

Nestled inside against electric blue velvet, is a delicate lighthouse pendant on a gold chain, an exact replica of the lighthouse in Rowan Bay.

One of my hands flies to my throat.

‘I had it made for you,’ explains Mitch, his voice hoarse with emotion. ‘I like to think that the lighthouse brought us together. It showed us the way.’

I lift up my hair and Mitch fastens it around my neck. ‘I love it,’ I say, my hand stroking it as it rests against the lace of my dress.

And as we kiss, over and over, to the sounds of our guests cheering and clapping us from inside the marquee, I know I’ve fallen back in love all over again, not only with writing, but with life– thanks to this wonderful, amazing man.

I’ve also learnt that nothing stays the same and we’re all much stronger than we think, no matter who we are, where we come from or what we believe.

Here’s to love, life and the future.