Drew smiled. ‘Better get our priorities right,’ he said.

‘True.’ She kept her voice light but her heart was heavy. She fancied Drew more than ever now he was even further from her reach. But she had to remind herself he’d been within it. Caitlin was a lucky woman.

While everyone tucked into the desserts, Evie asked about Ruby, and Chloe told her as much as she knew, which was very little.

Sam discreetly mentioned she was always available if Chloe ever needed to talk. Sam was the first close friend she’d made in Porthmellow and, after Drew, it was to Sam that Chloe felt she owed an apology for not telling her more sooner.

‘I should have been brave enough to tell you earlier. I almost did a few times but never found the right way.’

Sam gave her a hug. ‘I’m not offended. We all have parts of our lives we want to keep private until – if – we’re ever ready to share.’

Beyond that, no one pushed her to reveal any more, and the evening passed with banter, stories about old festivals, gossip and wine. Lots of wine. Chloe had drunk way more than she had for years, and was pleasantly sozzled while dimly aware that alcohol suppressed your inhibitions. Judging by the feelings that stirred every time she watched Drew pouring drinks, clearing tables, laughing, drinking or breathing, it was all she could do not to launch herself on him in front of everyone else. Instead, she tried to avoid him, sitting as far from him as possible – which wasn’t easy in a one-room space – and trying not to get into any deep private conversations.

Just before eleven, Zennor and Ben left, stating they were knackered, which the ‘oldies’ remarked was hilarious, considering they were meant to be young and energetic. Sam had told Chloe that her sister and Ben were just good friends, but it was hard to believe there wasn’t more between them as they seemed pretty inseparable. Whether they were going back to Wavecrest Cottage or Ben’s chalet on Porthmellow Park, Chloe had no idea.

Troy and Evie went home a quarter of an hour after ‘the young ones’, and after Chloe had seen them off, she hauled herself upstairs, feeling a little light-headed, wincing at empties in the recycling bin which told their own story. Gabe, Sam and Drew had dragged chairs onto the terrace and were sitting under the fleece blankets looking out over the lights of the harbour.

‘Coffee, anyone?’ she said.

There were groans.

‘I’ve got a very nice bottle of Armagnac to go with it.’

Cheers followed.

‘I’ll lend you a hand,’ said Drew, finding mugs while Chloe spooned the coffee into the cafetière. She still preferred hers made that way rather than in an automatic machine. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked her.

‘OK. No, more than OK. I’ve had a fantastic evening.’