They took the train north in the first week of December.Four hours. She had a window seat and her laptop open and coffee going cold beside her and for the first hour she genuinely worked, or genuinely tried to, the restaurant drawings requiring decisions she had been deferring and the train's rhythm being good for that kind of thinking. Then somewhere past the halfway point the landscape changed and she stopped pretending to look at the screen.The hills. The particular quality of the light up here, lower and clearer than what they had left behind, doing something extraordinary to the brown and grey of the November moorland. She had forgotten this about Scotland, or had never known it properly, having only passed through. The sky was bigger. That was the simplest way to say it. The sky was bigger and the land underneath it felt older and the light between them had a quality she was already thinking about in terms of the Edinburgh project, what it would mean for the interiors, how you
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