Shona heard her granddaughter before she saw her. Perfect timing, she thought, smiling, as she dusted the cake with icing sugar. The kettle was simmering on the Aga as Claire and Amy gambolled with Russ across the farmyard towards the house. She watched as two of the dearest people to her in the world approached the back door, feeling love and warmth seep through her.

But she also couldn’t help feeling that the welcome she was about to offer – the cake, the tea and the chit-chat – were a mask for reality. Inside, everything hurt.

‘My darling Amy,’ Shona said, going outside to greet them and scooping her grandchild under her arms. She was still just able to lift her and wouldn’t consider herself old until she couldn’t. ‘You wait till you see what Grandma’s got for you.’

‘A present?’ Amy dropped down, scurrying inside.

Claire laughed. ‘Hi, Mum.’ She gave her a kiss. ‘Something smells good.’

‘Just a sponge cake.’ Shona left the door open so Russ, Callum’s Labrador, could come and go as he pleased. ‘And don’t chase the chickens,’ she told the old brown dog, though she didn’t think he’d have the energy.

‘It’s so warm,’ Claire said, fanning herself with her straw hat.

‘Summer at last,’ Shona replied. ‘Earl Grey?’

‘Thanks, Mum.’

‘And all this, young lady, is for you.’

Amy’s alert green eyes tracked Shona to the corner of the large kitchen. There seemed little point in ever using the rest of the house when this room had an open fire, the cooking range, comfy old sofas and the French doors leading out to the garden. No one ever called at the front door unless they were on official business, and countless dogs and kids and even chickens had tramped in and out for as long as Shona could remember. So far, everyone seemed to believe that selling up was what she actually wanted to do. It wasn’t.

‘This box,’ Shona began, as Amy sat down cross-legged on the rug, ‘is full of toys from a long time ago. You won’t find any noisy electronic gadgets in here.’

Amy gasped with joy and Shona left her to delve inside the box. She turned to Claire, who was filling the teapot. ‘I’ve been having a sort-out,’ she said quietly. She knew there would be a reaction, she just wasn’t sure what yet.

Claire glanced over to Amy as she pulled a pretty rag doll from the box. Her daughter squealed with delight. ‘Mum, no.’ She was wide-eyed.

‘Yes, love,’ Shona replied firmly although inside she didn’t feel at all firm about her decision at all. ‘It’s long overdue.’

‘But—’

‘They’ve sat collecting dust in her room for over two decades.’

They both knew there was little hope now, even though they’d always tried to keep positive. Months after the police had found her shorts in a ditch, even the detective in charge of the case said the chances of finding her alive were slim.

‘I just don’t think it’s right.’ Claire went over to Amy. ‘You’ll have to put those back, I’m afraid, sweetie. Grandma made a mistake.’

‘No, I didn’t, Amy. You go right ahead and play with them.’ Shona also loomed over the child until she realised what they were doing to her. ‘I’m sorry, darling, you’d better do as Mummy says.’ Shona backed off, clattering cups onto a tray. She cut up the cake and suggested they sit outside as the sun was still on the terrace. ‘Why not take Russ for a run around the lawn, Amy? He looks as if he could do with the exercise.’

‘He’s not very good at running any more. Daddy says he’s on his last legs and it’ll be a blessing when he’s gone.’ Amy pulled the reluctant dog by its collar.

‘It wasn’t quite like that,’ Claire assured her mother, as they sat at the flaking wrought iron table. ‘The vet’s bills have been pretty high recently and Callum—’

‘You don’t need to explain,’ Shona said, pouring the tea. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you with the toys. But I have to sort things out ready for the move.’

Claire bowed her head. ‘I know. It’s just that I don’t want you to move. I know looking after this place as well as Dad is a lot of work, but I could help out more. I could go part-time. What about a holiday to mull things over? Take Dad on a cruise?’

‘Your father would hate a cruise.’ Shona sipped her tea and watched as Amy tried to run with Russ. The dog lay down, panting.

‘He was never big on holidays, was he?’ Claire said. ‘“No one speaks bloody English and they all eat horse meat,”’ she said in a deep, growling voice, mimicking her father. ‘“There are perfectly good beaches on our doorstep and all for free!”’

They laughed, knowing that Patrick was probably right. But even if they’d wanted a holiday, the bed and breakfast had always tied them to the farm during the summer. Looking back, Shona wondered how she coped with it all.

Claire took a deep breath. ‘Mum, I’ve done something I hope I don’t live to regret.’

Shona frowned. The sun was behind her daughter, so she squinted, raising her hand to her forehead. ‘Go on.’

‘I wanted to do something nice for Dad… so I wondered, I thought perhaps—’

‘What, darling?’

‘I’m organising a reunion.’ Claire hesitated. ‘I thought if I invited all the old group – Maggie, Nick, Jason, perhaps Uncle Angus and Aunt Jenny too – it would be really good for him. Like old times. And with partners and children too, there’d be so many of us to help that you wouldn’t have to do a thing.’

Shona listened to her daughter tripping over her words, trying to make it sound appealing.

‘I’d take care of everything. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger. It would be stimulating for Dad, really help with his memory. I worry about him so much and…’ Claire was rambling. ‘I’ve already made some phone calls, actually.’

Shona’s face gradually broke a smile. ‘I think it’s an excellent idea, darling. I would love nothing more.’ Then the smile fell away. ‘But what about Jason?’

‘I’m not sure. I’ve said he can stay with me rather than here at the farm. I was hoping it might help repair things.’

Shona raised her eyebrows.

‘I’ve called Maggie and Nick too, but nothing’s completely firmed up yet. I should have run it past you first, I know, but…’ she trailed off.

‘But you knew you didn’t have to, right?’ Shona took her daughter’s hand.

It was all going to be OK, Shona reassured herself as mother and daughter sat in the late afternoon sun. The light filtered through the twisting clematis onto the lawn, dancing like fleeting memories. She recalled Patrick buying the quivering purple-flowered plant, choosing the perfect spot for it. It had quickly flourished, spiralling up and along the pergola to form a thick canopy and flowering every summer with velvet blooms the size of saucers.

‘I’m sure Dad will think it’s a splendid idea,’ Shona said. In truth, she wasn’t sure. His reaction would depend on his mood and that hadn’t been predicable for a while. It wasn’t just his mind that was changing with the knotty, foreign weed that was invading his brain, but rather that his whole personality was shifting to accommodate the assault.

They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about plans, which week in the summer would work best, what they would all do, and who would have which room. Shona decided not to say anything when Amy ducked back inside the kitchen and sneaked out the rag doll, riding it around on Russ’s back as if it was finally having the time of its life.