‘And if only the clouds would thicken up it would be a miserable day,’ Mr Allen contributed from behind the paper. ‘It is what it is.’

By eleven, flecks of rain started to appear on the windows. Despondent, Cat said, ‘It’s coming on rain.’

‘I was afraid of that,’ Susie said.

‘It’s just spitting, maybe it’ll pass before noon.’

‘You won’t see a bloody thing up Arthur’s Seat in this mist,’ Mr Allen said. ‘Not to mention how muddy it’ll be.’

‘I’ve never minded a bit of mud,’ Cat said.

‘How true,’ Susie said with feeling.

‘And at least I have the right clothes for being outside in bad weather. Oh, it’s too bad, though. People are putting their umbrellas up. It’s coming down harder, and I was so convinced it was going to be a lovely day.’ Cat threw herself discontented into a chair and scowled at the rain.

‘There’ll be nobody up at the Book Festival this morning,’ Susie said.

‘Apart from the ones with tickets,’ her husband commented.

‘I meant, people to talk to, not listen to,’ Susie said.

‘Quite.’

The raindrops fattened and speeded up and the hands of the clock turned just as relentlessly. At noon, there was no respite. ‘I doubt you’ll be walking today,’ Mr Allen said, shrugging into his waxed jacket and heading for the door. ‘I’m off to the Stand for an afternoon of comedy. See you both later.’

Glum-faced, Cat stared at the rain coursing down the window pane. ‘I’m going to give it another quarter of an hour,’ she announced. ‘I mean, it’s not like one of those thunderstorms with monsoon rain that they had in Banshees of Berneray. The sky could be clear in no time.’

As if it was listening to her, the clouds began to thin and the rain to slacken. By half past twelve, a gleam of sunshine took Cat quite by surprise. The sky had begun to clear, and even as she watched, scraps of blue sky appeared between the clouds, gradually meeting to form large clear patches. Ten minutes more and there was no doubt that a bright afternoon was on the way. ‘I always thought it would clear up,’ Susie said smugly. ‘But has it cleared up quickly enough for the Tilneys, that’s the question.’

Or had it cleared up too much, Cat wondered, checking her phone for a text or tweet that would explain her friends’ lateness. She couldn’t help recalling the conversation with Bella where they’d joked about Henry being a vampire. According to what she’d read, cloudy skies were OK, but full sunlight was out of the question. She shook her head, as if that would clear away such a crazy idea. After all, if that was really what was going on with Henry and Ellie, they’d have been knocking at the door with delight in the lashing rain.

Again Cat crossed to the window and looked down into the street, just in time to see the same two convertibles that had appeared there the day before. ‘It’s Bella and James. And Johnny Thorpe. They must be coming here. But I can’t go off with them, can I? Ellie and Henry might still show up.’

John Thorpe’s voice arrived before he did, echoing up the stairwell. ‘Cat! Get a move on, girl, we’re on double yellows, for God’s sake,’ he bellowed as he climbed. She opened the door and he sighed histrionically. ‘At last. Get your coat on, we’re going to Glasgow.’ He stuck his head into the flat. ‘Morning, Mrs A.’

‘Glasgow? Isn’t that miles away? Like, on the other side of the country?’

‘You’ve seen how fast my wheels go, we’ll be there in no time. Trust me. Come on, girl.’

‘Plus, I’ve got some friends coming round. Any minute now.’

‘They’ll understand. It’s not every day you get the chance of a stunning drive across to Glasgow. It’ll be a cracking day out. Jamie and I had this brilliant idea at breakfast, only we thought it was going to be stymied by the weather. But no! Here’s the sun—’ He gestured expansively as if to take credit for the improvement in the weather.

‘And I’m supposed to be going out with friends,’ Cat said with finality.

A sly look crossed his face. ‘What if I threw in a haunted palace?’

He could not have found a better way through Cat’s defences. Her distaste for him dissolved at such a prospect. ‘A haunted palace?’

He nodded triumphantly. ‘Linlithgow Palace. The ruined pleasure-dome of the royal Stewarts. The birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scots.’ He lowered his voice to a sepulchral hollowness. ‘They say it’s haunted by her mother, Mary of Guise.’

‘And are there towers and long galleries and battlements?’

John nodded. ‘All you could wish for in a royal ruin.’

Cat groaned. ‘It sounds heavenly. But I can’t go, I really can’t.’

At that moment, Bella joined her brother on the stairs. ‘Can’t go? Are you crazy? It’s haunted, for God’s sake, Cat. Haunted.’

Cat looked over her shoulder towards Susie, both for support and to avoid meeting Bella’s eye. ‘I made arrangements with Ellie Tilney and her brother to go up Arthur’s Seat. They were supposed to be here at noon, but it was raining, so they’ll probably be here any minute now.’

Because she was looking away, she didn’t see the look of guile that passed across John’s face. ‘Henry Tilney? Freddie Tilney’s brother? The bloke you were dancing with last night?’

Cat turned back to face him. Her chin came up. ‘That’s right.’

John laughed. ‘You’ll be waiting a long time if you’re expecting him to call today,’ he said. ‘I’ve just seen him going into Haymarket station with a very good-looking blonde. The pair of them had backpacks, like they were heading off somewhere for the day. I’d say you were the last thing on his mind.’

Seeing Cat’s stricken expression, Bella said casually, ‘Ellie probably thought it was too muddy to go hill-walking. She’s a bit precious, Cat. I think so, anyway. The least she could have done was text you and not leave you high and dry. Come on, we’ll have a brilliant time at Linlithgow and Glasgow. It’ll be so cool, just like being in a Hebridean Harpies story.’

‘What do you think, Susie? Should I go?’

Susie shrugged. ‘It’s up to you. But Bella’s got a point: Ellie could have texted you.’

And so it was settled. Which was more than could be said of Cat’s feelings, divided between the pleasure lost and the pleasure anticipated. In spite of her natural tendency to think well of people, she couldn’t help a niggle of annoyance that Ellie had left her dangling without a word.

They bounced over the cobbles of Queen Street and Ainslie Place, juddering so hard that Cat feared for her teeth. As they screeched through the sharp right turn on to Queensferry Road, John shouted, ‘Who’s that girl?’ before they lurched to a halt at a red light.

‘What girl?’

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Blonde, back there at the lights. She was waving at us, and I’m bloody sure I don’t know her.’

Cat swivelled round in her seat just in time to see Ellie Tilney and her brother crossing at the pedestrian light behind them, both dressed for walking in waxed jackets, thornproof trousers and hiking boots. ‘Pull over, you—’ She almost called him a moron, but stopped herself in time. ‘It’s the Tilneys. Henry and Ellie. I need to catch up with them. Pull over.’

But the lights turned to green and John accelerated wildly. ‘You’re seeing things,’ he said, hammering across the Dean Bridge as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

‘That was the Tilneys, John. I bet they’re on their way round to meet me right now. Please, please take me back.’

‘Too late,’ he said. ‘Other plans.’

Angry now, and confused by his behaviour, Cat said, ‘Why did you lie to me? Why did you say Henry was going into the station at Haymarket when he obviously wasn’t? They must think I’m the rudest person on the planet, shooting past them in a car when I’m supposed to be meeting up with them. How could you do that to me?’

‘Christ, Cat, it was an honest mistake,’ he protested at the next traffic signal. ‘Just chill, would you? If you’re so bothered, text your girlfriend and tell her you got a better offer.’

If she could have thought of a message that would convey her combination of anger, humiliation and regret to Ellie, she would have done just that. But there was no nuance in a text and Cat knew better than to try and explain the complicated misunderstanding in that abbreviated form. All she could hope for was that an opportunity would present itself when she could explain the whole horrible saga to Ellie face-to-face. And sooner rather than later.

By the time she had worked all this out, they had left the city behind and were hurtling down the M9 towards Linlithgow and Stirling. But they had barely left the turning for the Forth Bridge behind them when John started swearing and gesticulating at his rear-view mirror.

‘What is it?’ Cat fought the slipstream and managed to turn around. Diminishing on the hard shoulder was a terrible sight. Smoke billowed from the chrome grille of her brother’s borrowed car. Even as she watched, James and Bella climbed out of the car and up the grassy bank beside it. ‘Oh my God. You’ll have to go back, you can’t just leave them.’

‘How the hell can I go back? I’m on a bloody motorway.’

‘Come off at the next junction and double back.’

‘What about our trip?’

‘Never mind that, we need to go back and help James and Bella. The car might explode, for heaven’s sake.’ She was close to punching him, so angry and frightened was she.

John grumbled extensively, but as the next junction approached, he pulled off and did as she had asked him. ‘Bloody stupid bloody car,’ he yelled as they set off back the way they’d come.

Within five minutes, they were pulling up behind the Spitfire, which seemed to have ceased its belching and spewing of smoke. They clambered up the bank to the others. Bella threw her arms around Cat and said, ‘Thank God you came back for us.’