Page 9 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop

A wooden footbridge joined a lane which ran past a row of six cottages and across a couple of fields towards the ruins of Hutton Wicklow Castle – a fortified family home built by a wealthy landowner in the early fifteenth century.

As I got closer, my pace slowed and I took several deep breaths, battling to keep my emotions in check.

This place held so many memories for me and, although most of them were happy, there was one overwhelmingly painful one.

A dog walker said, ‘Hello,’ as he passed with a bouncy black-and-white springer spaniel and tossed a ball for the dog to chase before disappearing from view.

There was nobody else in sight so I had the castle to myself, as was often the case.

I paused to take in the stunning view from all directions and smiled as I picked out The Lodge before settling down on a boulder.

My younger sister, Pia, had declared Hutton Wicklow Castle her favourite place in the whole world .

I could clearly picture her standing in front of the crumbling walls, arms outstretched, her knitted white dragon draped over her shoulder as she gazed up towards the top of the ruins.

It’s magical here! Can you feel it, Lars? As magical as Christmas!

Swiping at the tears trailing down my cheeks, I swallowed hard on the lump in my throat. ‘I miss you, little pixie.’

I stayed for a while, lost in my memories, but was pulled from them by a yappy Jack Russell demanding my attention.

The owner apologised as she clipped on a lead and dragged the dog away, but that was my cue to leave.

I continued across another field before dropping down to Hutton Valley where a wooden boardwalk ran alongside the river for just over a mile, flanked on either side by trees.

The boardwalk ended at a footbridge across the river and a short track leading to a small car park and picnic site which were deserted today.

At the far end of the car park, I joined a woodland trail which rose steadily to join Hutton Valley Lane where a dozen houses, including The Lodge, enjoyed the most stunning views over the woods, river, castle and countryside.

The Lodge had always been my favourite property on Hutton Valley Lane and it still didn’t seem real that I owned it.

As a kid, I’d called it Duckling Lodge because the owners, like me, clearly loved ducks.

On the left side of the barred wooden gate across the drive was a plaque of a male mallard duck (a drake) with a trio of ducklings and on the right side was another plaque of a female (a hen) with five ducklings, looking as though they were on their way to join the rest of the family.

There were ornamental ducks and ducklings either side of the front door too and a pair of soft toy ducks in the window of one of the bedrooms. Every time we did our circular walk, we paused to say hello to the ducks and I told Nanna I’d live there one day. I never imagined that I really would.

‘I’ve got something to show you,’ Nanna had said, reaching for her iPad a couple of weeks after our visit to Bay View.

‘Let me guess. A house?’

Since securing her new apartment, Nanna had become a little obsessed with finding me somewhere to live and had thrust her iPad in front of me most days, showing me properties she thought might be suitable.

‘Ah, but this isn’t just any house,’ she said, her eyes twinkling as she passed me her tablet.

I glanced at the photo of the property and gasped. ‘No way! It’s Duckling Lodge.’

‘And it could be yours.’

‘It needs a lot of work,’ I said, chewing on my lip as I scrolled through the photos of a dated kitchen, pink bathroom suite and floral wallpaper throughout. It appeared to have been adapted for a wheelchair user too with a stairlift, ramps and other aids which I wouldn’t need.

‘And it’s priced to reflect that.’

I clicked into the floorplans. There were six bedrooms but two of them were tiny and would be better knocked into one to make a large en suite for the master bedroom or perhaps repurposed as a smaller en suite and a dressing room.

‘You’re very quiet,’ Nanna observed.

‘Just taking it all in,’ I said, clicking back into the photos. ‘I always wondered what it looked like inside.’

‘You can see the castle from it.’

I paused on images of the views from the front of the house and they really were spectacular. Seeing the castle every day would be exceptionally special.

‘I wonder if they still have the ducks on the gates,’ I said.

‘I wondered that too. You can’t tell from the photos. What do you think? Could you see yourself living there?’

The work didn’t scare me. I actually liked the idea of gutting the place and starting with a blank canvas, but the family home tag did scare me. What did a single man in his mid-thirties need with such a big house and garden?

‘I’m not sure. It’s a family home and I don’t have a family.’

‘Semantics,’ Nanna said. ‘You’ve heard that phrase dress for the job you want ? Well, this could be buy the home for the family you want .’

It wasn’t quite the same thing but I could see her logic.

‘And you could have a family if you wanted.’

‘If you weren’t so fussy about your girlfriends,’ we both said together, my tone sarcastic.

‘Very funny,’ Nanna said. ‘But you know it’s the truth.’

It was, but I couldn’t help it. The problem was that I’d already met the perfect woman for me a very long time ago and I’d stupidly pushed her away. Nobody I’d met since had compared to her and I wasn’t sure they ever would.