Page 44 of The Boathouse by the Loch (The Scottish Highlands #4)

‘Are you okay?’ David asked. ‘You’re a bit quiet this morning.’

Robyn didn’t think that was surprising. She had a lot on her mind.

She couldn’t believe that it was Friday already.

The week had gone surprisingly quickly since they’d left Gayle’s on Saturday morning.

Too quickly. And now she was sitting on the lawn, in front of the boathouse, watching David hanging the last of the paper lanterns she’d ordered online.

She’d been shocked at how much she’d enjoyed the holiday that, at first, she’d felt railroaded into.

She’d thought she wouldn’t enjoy time away from the work she loved.

She had been wrong. She’d thought she wouldn’t enjoy spending an entire week there at the boathouse. She’d been wrong on that score too.

She’d imagined that she’d find it hard doing nothing all day but mooch around the boathouse with David.

But that wasn’t how her week had turned out at all.

In fact, she’d been extremely busy. That was probably the reason the time had flown.

She hadn’t realised how lazy days on holiday were not lazy at all, but filled with fun things to do.

It made her wonder about her childhood; her mother was off travelling, had been for months, but Robyn had a feeling that childhood holidays had been scarce.

Perhaps her mother was making up for lost time.

Of course, those fun-filled days during her first holiday in months had all been down to David.

She’d thought it rather strange at first, having a holiday at the boathouse rather than going away.

But she knew what his game was. She hadn’t been feeling at home in the boathouse, so he’d gone out of his way on their holiday week to make their time together there something special.

Some activities weren’t really her thing; he’d taken her fishing on the loch in his little rowing boat, which she hadn’t really expected to enjoy.

She’d imagined this was a bit like what married life would involve – compromises.

But she had made the best of the day; it had been beautiful weather, so she’d packed a picnic in a large hamper, together with a picnic blanket, a bottle of wine, and two wine glasses.

They’d landed on a deserted little stretch of pebble beach across the loch from the boathouse, and had sat with the picnic, enjoying the views and their tranquil spot for lunch in the sunshine.

They’d lain together on the blanket, holding hands, staring at the beautiful blue sky and listening to birds and the lapping of the water on the shore.

On the way back, David had insisted she try her hand at fishing. Surprisingly, she’d actually enjoyed herself and, much to David’s chagrin, had caught a fish on her very first fishing trip. She’d insisted on throwing it back, saying she wanted the fish to live to swim another day.

He’d bought her presents too. She looked at the bike with its baskets on the front and back.

It was strange, but Robyn had a feeling that nobody had ever bought her a bike before, even when she was a child.

She didn’t know that for sure – how could she?

She didn’t remember. It was certainly something she was going to ask her mother .

Robyn had asked the hypnotherapist, whom she’d made an appointment with that week, if she’d mentioned a bike when she’d been under hypnosis.

Apparently, she had not. Robyn was still pleased she had arranged that appointment to see the therapist. Although she was meant to be on holiday, she realised it was the perfect time to get the ball rolling, especially if she didn’t want to wait until her mum arrived.

She hadn’t told her in the letter about her memory problems. And she didn’t want to get into all that when her mum arrived.

Robyn would prefer it if her memories came back first; then she could put the accident and her memory loss behind her.

David hadn’t been too keen on her going to therapy sessions during her week’s holiday.

At first, she’d only made an appointment to see Dr Jamieson, who had been quite surprised that, after so many weeks, her memories still hadn’t resurfaced.

She’d said it was very rare and had agreed that it was high time Robyn had some help.

She’d also agreed with Robyn that this would be the perfect time – while she was away from work and had free time to spend on herself.

The fact that her mum was returning had galvanised Robyn to take the plunge and finally face her past.

Despite David’s initial disappointment that it was taking time out of their holiday together, he understood her reasoning and supported her decision. That didn’t stop him putting his all into their holiday together at the boathouse, though.

As well as buying her a bike, he’d dug his own bike out of storage and had had it looked at by a local bike company in Aviemore.

It meant they could take rides together along the forest tracks surrounding the boathouse, and they’d also ridden along the single-track road that brought them out on to the main road and a small petrol station and convenience store.

Robyn had enjoyed stopping there to buy fresh bread and croissants, filling her baskets before returning to the boathouse to sit upstairs on the balcony overlooking the loch with a pot of freshly brewed coffee and a delicious croissant warmed in the oven. It was all rather heavenly.

In the evenings, they’d sat by the log burner in the lounge, and for an entire week, they’d seen hardly a soul, save for some walkers in the forest, and of course the old chap running the petrol station and store.

And Robyn’s therapist. Dr Jamieson had given her some options, surprising her by recommending hypnosis along with some psychotherapy sessions.

The doctor had said it was recommended for patients with Robyn’s condition – dissociative amnesia disorder.

Robyn recalled that when she’d been in hospital she had been somewhat relieved that a name had been given to her condition.

Although she hadn’t been pleased to hear that, once brain injury or dementia had been ruled out as causes, people who couldn’t remember things about themselves or what had happened to them in the past had often experienced some traumatic or stressful event.

But putting a name to her condition meant she could move forward with a professional when the time came and she was ready to get to the bottom of what exactly had led to her dissociative amnesia.

That time had arrived. Her qualified hypnotherapist, a kind lady called Marnie, ran her practice from home.

It was a lovely little bungalow, on the outskirts of Aviemore, with a large home office at the bottom of a long garden.

Built in pine, the interior reminded Robyn of a log cabin, with warm pine floors, walls, and ceiling, a sofa with matching armchairs opposite, Aztec-style rugs, cushions, and a log burner with a chimney that stretched up into the vaulted ceiling .

It didn’t look like an office at all, but an extension of her house – like a second lounge.

There were framed pictures of tranquil landscapes – rolling hills and misty forests – hanging on the walls.

Potted indoor plants with thick green foliage were dotted about the room, and there were scented candles on the coffee table.

Apart from the laptop on the coffee table in front of them, nothing suggested it was an office at all, or a treatment room.

Robyn was so thankful for that. It had taken a lot of courage to return to the hospital to see Dr Jamieson.

Although she was a lovely doctor, Robyn wanted to steer clear of clinical environments again, if she could.

Although it took Robyn a couple of sessions to feel comfortable enough to get into the relaxed state needed for hypnosis, Marnie was now confident she was making progress and that soon there would be a breakthrough with her amnesia; soon, she’d recover her memories.

Robyn wished she could have said time had stood still that week, but instead it had rushed on.

David had been very pleased to hear it. Not because he wanted to get the week out of the way and get back to normal, but because he’d thought it was a good sign that she felt that way – it meant she was having a good time.

The only thing was that she still needed more time with her therapist.

When she’d left her session just the previous day, Marnie had said that the breakthrough could come any time – perhaps during the next session.

Robyn hoped so. All she wanted now was to remember what had happened to her – and then she could look forward to her future with David, with no possibility of anything untoward appearing from her past to throw her life off course.

She looked over at David and smiled. She couldn’t thank him enough for her presents – one in particular, which was about to get her covered in loch water, yet again.

‘Oh no!’ The ball being dropped at her feet was always a precursor to what was coming next.

She held up her hands to shield her hair from getting wet as Percy shook himself.

‘Oh, Percy, you silly boy! Why do you always miss the ball when I throw it, and it ends up rolling down the slope into the water?’

She’d learned that Percy loved water. When she threw the ball, he wouldn’t fetch it unless it went into the loch. Then he’d run into the water, nudging the ball that was floating on the surface, and have a lovely swim.

Robyn picked up the ball. ‘You know I’m going to have to stop throwing it in that direction.’

Percy barked.

‘Come here,’ she called.

Percy ran straight into her arms, and Robyn didn’t care if she got so wet she’d have to change her clothes. ‘I love you so much – do you know that?’

Percy wagged his tail furiously. She looked over at David and then whispered to Percy, ‘It was love at first sight when I met you.’