John sighed. “She’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t want anyone to know. That’s what the notes are all about; she’s making sure she doesn’t forget. The doctor thinks it’ll likely be a slow progression, which is some cold comfort, I suppose, given her age. But still. She’s going to need help. I want her to have fun with her friend before she forgets what fun is.”

“John, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. Those are the facts. I’m not going to lose another family member to sheer bloody-mindedness and wasted sentimentality over a building.”

“But this place isn’t like your mum’s house,” reasoned Annie. “Everyone loves it. I love it! Sentimentality is only wasted if no one else appreciates it.”

John pulled a chair out from the bench by the window and slumped down into it, his head in his hands.

“Mari’s been talking for a couple of years about moving in with her friend June, in Cornwall, ‘when she’s older,’ ha!” Another humorless laugh. “When she’s older! For Christ’s sake! I persuaded her to give it a try this winter, see how she gets on.”

“And?”

“She loves it there. If it weren’t for this place, I don’t think she’d look back. She’s under the Saltwater Nook spell, like every other bugger in this village.”

“And you’re not?”

“My aunt is holding out for a buyer who doesn’t exist, someone who will love this place like she does. But nobody could love it like she does! It’s old, it’s tiny, most potential buyers would be wanting to extend it by double at the very least, and that’s reflected in the price they’re willing to pay for it. Better to sell it as a blank canvas with planning permission.”

Annie walked over to him and laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t think you want to sell it to a developer,” she said gently.

John sighed again and she realized he looked tired. “It’s not about me. The plain fact is, if she sells, I can get both Mari and June carers, twice a day; live-in carers, even, when the time comes. Meals delivered, shopping delivered, cleaners . . . if she sells, I can give her every comfort for however many years she’s got left. She looked after me when I needed it; all I’m trying to do is return the favor. It’s my inheritance anyway; she’s leaving the place to me. And my decision is that the money be used to make her life comfortable.”

“What if there is someone who loves it as much your aunt does?”

John looked at her. “Annie, I don’t doubt your motives, but love doesn’t pay the bills.”