As cool air blew across the moor, Jessica drew a deep, satisfying breath.
This evening, the breeze was gentle, but there were times when it would rush across the landscape like an express train – stunted, misshapen trees, which had been foolhardy enough to try and grow here, bore testament.
From her favourite vantage point, she could see the purple-heathered hills rolling far into the distance, bathed in the evening sun.
For someone who spent her days selling holidays and extolling the virtues of foreign travel, it seemed ironic that all Jessica needed for relaxation was to come up here.
She loved this wild, open, unspoiled place. It was no coincidence that her favourite novel was Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights.
Most of all, though, she loved the solitude.
‘Jess! Jess!’ A voice called out and her heart sank. So much for solitude!
She’d hoped Liam hadn’t noticed her slip away from his brother’s noisy birthday celebrations but, evidently, that was not the case. And he knew exactly where she’d be.
Darting behind a
