Suzanne didn’t argue with that. She’d tried hard to like Rob because of Cheryl, but it hadn’t been easy and Stewart had actively disliked the man.
If Cheryl hadn’t met Rob, would she be alive now?
It was a ridiculous way to think, because without Rob there would be no Hannah, Beth and Posy.
“This whole thing with Hannah—” She took his hand. “I’m overcompensating, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but I understand.”
She knew he did. She also knew that the loss hadn’t only been hers. Stewart had lost the life they’d planned together, the future they’d mapped out so carefully.
And then she felt guilty, because no matter how many compromises or changes they’d had to make, they’d lived and they had a beautiful family.
“Hannah guards herself. Shuts everyone out. And I can’t blame her. No child should have to live through what she lived through.”
“They all lived through it, Suzy, not just Hannah.”
“I know, but Posy was so little she barely remembers it. Beth remembers it, but her reaction was what you’d expect it to be. Hannah was older. It was different. More complicated. And some of that was down to her relationship with Rob.” It made her heart ache to think of it. “All I want is for us to be a normal family. But we’re not, are we? We never have been. There is so much damage.” And not just to her family. She took a deep breath. “It would have been twenty-five years this week.”
It had been a day much like this one, she remembered. Changeable weather. The mountains playing a game of hide-and-seek behind the clouds.
And then the accident.
Five people had gone up the mountain and only one had walked away.
It was one anniversary she wouldn’t be celebrating.
7
Posy
The Glensay Inn was a traditional Highland coaching inn with stone floors, rustic wooden tables and a beamed ceiling. A log fire crackled and danced in the hearth and hurricane lamps hung either side of the bar. In the summer people spilled out into the garden, but on a freezing winter’s night like tonight the place was crowded, the atmosphere thickened with the smell of whiskey and locally brewed beer. A stranger venturing inside out of the cold would find warmth not only by the fire, but also in the welcome.
Posy and Luke fought their way to an empty table close to the fire.
It took about five minutes to cross the room because she knew almost everyone there and they all had something to share with her about her dad, her mom, the mountain rescue team and the weather forecast.
When they finally reached the table, a roar of laughter had them both glancing toward the bar.
“Someone is having a good time.” Luke unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair.
“I hope you weren’t expecting somewhere private.” She unwound her scarf and waved at Geoff, the landlord, who raised his hand in return. Ignoring the throng of people trying to get his attention, he walked across with two bottles of beer.
“This will get you both started.”
“Thanks, Geoff. You’re my hero. How is your knee?” Posy kissed him on the cheek and Geoff flushed to the roots of his hair.
“Playing up, but that’s the cold weather. I shouldn’t complain, but I do it anyway because this place gives me a captive audience. I hear she took you ice climbing, Luke.”
“She did.” Luke settled himself by the fire. “We climbed three long pitches of continuous ice and my muscles are screaming. And watching the way she smacked her ax into that ice—well, let’s just say I’m going to be careful not to upset her.”
Geoff put the bottles on the table. “If you want a mountain guide, you can’t do better than our Posy.”
Our Posy. As if she was somehow the property of the local community, like the books in the library.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Geoff.”
“She knows her way round these hills like I know my way round a beer barrel. There were folks who didn’t take her seriously when she first joined the team.” He rested his hands on the back of Posy’s chair, settling in to tell his story. “Back then it was mostly six-foot men, and there was Posy, this wee wisp of a thing with her hair in bunches.”