‘I don’t have time to go anywhere but Crathes. The festival starts today and I have so much to do!’ ‘Kit can manage for a while longer.’ It didn’t take long for Charlie to work out where they were heading, ‘You’re taking me to the bridge?’ Gervase held Charlie’s hand tighter as they marched along the road. By the time they reached the stone bridge, she was out of puff. As Gervase pointed a gloved hand at the swirl of the water, Charlie tried to gauge if he was angry, resigned, or faintly amused that he’d had to bring her to a river in the middle of a working day to make her see sense. ‘I’m glad you confided your fears about Alice to me, but they are groundless. If you won’t believe me, you might believe your river. So go on, ask it.’ Suddenly the fact that she always trusted the river over people seemed silly. ‘I don’t need to.’ And to her surprise, Charlie found she didn’t. With Gervase’s hand in her own, she didn’t need to divine her wisdom from the drama of the Feugh.
