‘That night after the trip to the hospital, I really thought it was Ryan at the crossing in Marazion. That was silly, of course, he’s probably at the other end of the country.’

Gabe sipped his drink before answering. ‘It could easily have been him … it was dark.’

‘No. It was my wishful thinking.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with wishful thinking. Nothing wrong with hope.’

‘Really? After Mum died and Ryan was put away, I lost my hope.’ And we split up, she wanted to say but didn’t dare.

‘For all I know he might have a family,’ she continued. ‘He might be on the breadline or ill or depressed. Knowing he’s alive isn’t enough. I want to know he has a life, despite what he’s done.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t blame me,’ he said quietly.

‘I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but I can’t forget that you let me down. No matter what the reasons, I can’t forget.’

‘Or forgive?’

‘I don’t know. I think I can understand and accept what you did but forgiveness … means I have to forget. I … I felt too much for you. I cared too much, which meant that the crash to earth was so much worse, and now I’m worried that too much time has gone by between us to pick up where we left off.’

Gabe took her hand. ‘I don’t want to pick up where we left off. That’s impossible, but we could start again at a whole new place.’ His voice was passionate. ‘I was angry too, for all kinds of reasons, and I didn’t come back here to re-ignite something that’s long been dead. I came because the town needed me. Because I thought I was helping Porthmellow – and yes, helping you. Which was more important to me, I can’t decide, but one thing is certain: I never once wanted to cause you any more pain than I have already.’

‘You did cause me pain but it’s eased. I don’t blame you anymore. I blame Ryan. I’ve accepted he was wrong. I blame myself for not seeing sooner the way he was going. For not noticing that my own brother was so desperate. Maybe I put that on you when you thought turning him in was for the best.’

Gabe’s jaw dropped. Sam had surprised herself. Maybe she could forgive him after all.

‘Earlier you said you’d lost hope but you hadn’t. You carried on, you built the business up and cared for Zennor. You didn’t lose hope. You made it.’

‘Made it is a relative term.’ She smiled.

‘You said I’d made it too but you’re wrong.’

She frowned. ‘What do you mean? Look at this place. The money you’ve made, the empire. You’re our headline draw for the festival.’