It was late afternoon when they arrived back at the Roundhouse. Clancy helped Dilys into number two with her shopping and collected in return a single duvet in a bold, bright patchwork cover, then carried her own purchases indoors to join the bags and boxes she’d brought from London.

She halted. London was no longer her home.

The echoing emptiness of the Roundhouse seemed to catch her suddenly beneath the breastbone, the only sounds her own breathing and muted birdsong outdoors. ‘You can do this,’ she told herself aloud. ‘This is not the first time you’ve moved house and begun again.’ So she set to, dividing the shopping between fridge, freezer and cupboards. Kitchen units had been fitted along a section of the curved wall and into an island unit too. As she worked, she wished she’d asked Aaron exactly when he’d be back. Dilys probably had his landline number but there was no reply when Clancy popped out to knock on her door.

OK. Back to the Roundhouse. She walked a slow circle around the ground floor, remembering how Alice and Lee had set the space out in segments: sofas, a coffee table and footstools beside the panelling screen; then a circular dining table with chairs, and the space beneath the stairs filled with oak and glass cabinets built by Lee.

Next, she trod up the wooden staircase to the three wedge-shaped bedrooms and two bathrooms on the first floor. All three bedrooms were carpeted so it felt less echoey. In the master bedroom she stood on tiptoe to catch glimpses of a hazy blue-grey sea between trees and houses. Woolly white clouds dotted a paintbox-blue sky. Nelson’s Bar was high above the waves on its headland but she remembered Alice showing her the way down to a small beach.

She turned to survey the master bedroom without much enthusiasm. It had been Alice and Lee’s. Across the landing, the second bedroom’s view was of the lane and the house across the road. She turned and strode up the next flight of stairs to the loft, where she’d slept on her only visit, opening the door with a teeny-tiny – but welcome – sense of familiarity.

The space she walked into was conical with room to stand straight only in the middle or by the window dormers. Beyond the rooftops, she could see the sea from one window and the pinewoods from the other. She stood for a long time, gazing over the village. Gardens and trees between the houses. The peaceful sound of seagulls and the occasional car engine.

The sun lit the room, danced on the distant sea and warmed her heart.

Feeling something approaching enthusiasm, she ran downstairs for the airbed and duvet. By the time the bed was inflated she was red-faced and puffing, but she smiled as she cast the patchwork quilt over it.

Her temporary bed in her new room and new home. So there was no real furniture! Nobody who really knew her would think she’d be put off by a little thing like that.