On the sand, Jemma was a natural, but I remembered from personal experience that it was one thing mastering the moves on the stability of the beach, and something completely different trying to repeat them in the sea. She impressed me, though, giggling every time she wiped out. She didn’t moan about the cold or how tired she was. When the heavens opened, as predicted, she sat astride her board with her head back, her eyes closed, and her arms outstretched, smiling.

When I insisted we call it a day, she lay her board on the sand and squeezed the water out of her hair. ‘That was seriously hard work but I think I almost made it to a kneeling position.’

I hugged her tightly, touched by how hard she’d tried to master it. ‘You were amazing. You are amazing. Did you enjoy it?’

‘Surprisingly, yes. It wasn’t as cold as I expected although, now I’m out of the water, I’m frozen.’

‘Come on. Let’s get changed then do the other thing.’

The next part of our fresh start to the New Year had also been Jemma’s idea. She suggested that I’d already said goodbye to Nikki but not to the baby and I needed to do that. She also needed to officially say goodbye to Scott.

After we’d showered and changed in the facilities at The Surf Shack, we walked along North Bay beach, hand in hand. Jemma held the wooden box containing Scott’s ashes and I carried three roses and a long stick we’d found on the beach earlier. She’d done some research and discovered that deep red roses signified love and grief, making them perfect for saying goodbye.

High tide was approaching and many of the rock pools had already disappeared beneath the sea. We’d just have time to do what we planned. At the spot where Nikki had taken her last breath, Jemma took the stick from me and wrote SCOTT in the sand. She kissed the petals of one of the roses, crouched down, and placed it across his name. She handed me the stick and I wrote NIKKI and BABY, kissed the petals of the other two roses and lay them between the two names.

We stood together, arms round each other, watching the tide approach. After a few minutes, it licked the edge of Nikki’s name, moving the roses slightly. On the next pass, it took Nikki’s and Baby’s roses and scrambled their names. I took a deep shuddery breath and swallowed down the lump blocking my throat.

As the tide rolled in again, Jemma opened the wooden box and sprinkled Scott’s ashes into the sea where they were taken along with his rose and his name.

I put my arm back round her and kissed the top of her head as we whispered, ‘Goodbye.’