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“Don’t worry, this one’s easy,” he says with a wink.

The next moment, he pulls me forward, and I follow. After four steps, he spins us around, and we walk back for four steps. Then forward again, followed by another 180-degree turn, and then back. Next, he holds my hand above my head and twirls me before taking me into a ballroom hold, and we polka around the room. After that, the whole sequence repeats.

I can’t help but giggle as I mess up here and there, but this dance—unlike a few of the others—is straightforward, and I pick up the steps before long. I really laugh, though, when I notice what David and Johnny are up to. Johnny is trying to teach David the steps, but David—despite bountiful enthusiasm—is paying him little attention. Instead, he’s showing off an impressive flair for improvisation, even though I’m pretty sure freestyle isn’t a typical part of ceilidh dancing. Johnny eventually gives up and, laughing, the pair of them do their own thing, jigging around quite happily.

Before long, Johnny waves at some people he’s spotted, and I follow the direction of his gaze. His father, Craig MacDonald, and brother, Robbie, have just arrived. Ally bristles, which tells me he’s noticed them too.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Ally hisses.

Unlike most of the men present, Robbie isn’t wearing a kilt. Instead, he’s in dark jeans and a white T-shirt, his tattooed arms on show. Yes, Ally made a breakthrough a few months back when he admitted Robbie wasn’t responsible for his parents’ deaths, but Robbie is still far from his favourite person.

“Relax!” I say. “You and Aidan work with the Glen Garve Resort now. We could hardly not invite him.”

Ally and Aidan’s outdoor-activities business, Bannock Adventures, is up and running, and although it’s early days, it’s proving popular with tourists and locals alike.

“I suppose.”

Ally drops the matter, but when the dance ends, I catch him glowering over at Robbie. Recently, Ally has been going to see a counsellor and has been making great progress, but it seems there are still some past grievances he could do with letting go of.

“Let’s take a break,” I say. “I need a drink. Could you get me some water?”

Ally arches an eyebrow. “Just water?”

“Yes!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “I’ll be having more wine later on, but for now, I just want to quench my thirst.”

With a nod, Ally goes off to the bar, and I decide it’s time to have that chat with Grace. I look around for her, but amid the throng of people, I can’t spot her. She and Aidan were behind me just moments ago, so she must be here somewhere.

I try searching for Aidan instead but can’t see him either. I do, however, notice Lewis at the bar, nursing a whisky. Since Ally pulled back from the running of the hotel and gave Lewis more control, he’s thrown himself into making improvements with gusto, working through the measures he recommended in his report. Getting the hotel up to scratch is a big project, and there’s still a lot he wants to do, but judging by the latest online reviews, his changes are already having a positive impact.

Right now, though, he’s gazing forlornly across the room at Iona, who’s deep in conversation with her boyfriend, Richard.

“Sickening, isn’t it?” Jamie sidles up to me and nods at Lewis.

“Oh? I feel sorry for him. He either needs to declare his feelings or get over Iona. This thing of admiring her from afar . . . it’s not healthy. Anyway, what about you? I’ve not seen you on the dance floor tonight. You’re not going to watch the whole thing from the sidelines, are you?”

Jamie, who also has a whisky, glances down at it, swirling it around. “This . . . isn’t really my scene.”

“Bullshit! I bet you’re just too scared to ask anyone up.”

“Hey! I was in a car crash a few years back, you know. It left me with some injuries. I’m pretty stiff, and dancing . . . well, it’s all about fluid movement, isn’t it? A bit of sympathy wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Sorry,” I say, meaning it. “But . . .” I tilt my head to the side. “Could you really not manage a dance or two if you wanted to?”

“You’re right, I suppose I could. Maisie actually asked me to dance earlier, but I said no.”

I follow his gaze to where the barmaid of the Pheasant is laughing with Cat. Cat looks like she’s had a few drinks, but she has every right to let her hair down, having passed her finals and graduated from her English and Scottish Literature degree.

“Do you know what would be the perfect engagement present? It’d be if someone were to go over there and ask poor Maisie to dance.”

I don’t know why I’m calling her “poor” Maisie: she looks perfectly happy with Cat. Okay, I do know why I’m calling her poor Maisie. I’m manipulating Jamie—but for his own good.

He downs his drink. “Fuck it. All right, I’ll do it. No time like the present, I suppose.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” I pat his back. “But before you go, you haven’t seen Grace, have you? Or Aidan?”

He glances around the room then shakes his head. “I can help you look for them?”

“No, you ask Maisie for a dance. I’ll sort this.”