I cleared away the empty glasses and mugs while Sam packed away his paperwork. When I heard Mum’s bedroom door close upstairs, I turned to him. ‘She definitely doesn’t have dementia?’

He stopped what he was doing and smiled. ‘Definitely. I wasn’t just saying that stuff about stress to deflect her. I’m absolutely certain that’s what it is, possibly accompanied with depression. She’s likely been stressed for years but has just been one of those powerhouses who’s pushed through it. I suspect your dad’s death was the catalyst for it becoming a bigger thing.’

‘But she didn’t even like him. She wasn’t upset when he died.’

‘She doesn’t have to have been. She might not personally have been affected by his death but she’d have been aware that you and your brother were going to be and that her role was now as mum and dad to you both. Consciously or not, she’ll have created that extra role for herself, adding even more stress. Hey, don’t cry.’

‘Sorry,’ I wiped at my tears. ‘It’s just such a relief to hear you say that it’s only stress.’

‘Don’t underestimate stress. It’s dangerous.’

‘I know. It’s just that I’d rather it’s stress which she can do something about by reducing her workload and having me here to help with Logan, as opposed to dementia which she can’t do anything about. I thought we were losing her, Sam.’

Next minute, I was in his arms again. He held me, stroked my back, whispered soothing words as the worry of the last few months poured out of me.

When I’d stopped crying, he loosened his hold slightly and looked down into my eyes.

‘I think someone else is suffering from stress too and I don’t think I’ve helped, have I?’

‘You couldn’t have predicted what happened.’

‘I know, but… You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.’

My already racing heart skipped a beat. ‘I wouldn’t push you away.’

‘I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I’m going to this one-year memorial for Nikki on Friday. Her parents own one of the beach huts on North Bay and they’re having a few drinks for close friends and family. I need to focus on that and then, on Saturday, I’m going to tell them about the baby. Maybe we could meet up on Saturday night and talk?’

I held my breath as he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I’d like that.’

‘So would I.’ He shook his head. ‘I have to go before I do something I know I shouldn’t.’

I nodded, although I wanted to scream: ‘Just do it!’