Olivia had been meaning to head into town next, to the bar where she and Pete had met up that fateful day, but her subconscious must have had other ideas, because she realized after a few moments that she had missed the turn and was in fact heading in the opposite direction, towards the stretch of road where Aidan had died. The steering wheel wobbled under her hands as this occurred to her. Oh gosh. Was she ready for that? Could she really bear to go back?

In the days leading up to the accident, a prickly sort of mood had settled on her. Since the afternoon in the pub with Pete, it was as if a filter had dropped down before her eyes and she was suddenly seeing things in a new light. Aidan was irritating her in ways that she had never previously considered, for starters. He was so sensible. So reliable! Would it kill him to be spontaneous once in a while? Rebel against his nicey-nice parents and the world?

Driving along now, thinking about this made her want to turn right round and scuttle back for the safety of Lorna’s cottage, where she could hide under the duvet until the memories receded again. Because this was the terrible twist in the tail, the horrible guilty secret she had never ever told anyone – not even Mack, not even her brother. She had buried it in her mind for so long that she was scared of what might happen if she began excavating.

She was getting close to the spot.

‘Aidan, I’ve been thinking . . .’ she had blurted out that night in the car as he drove her home. They had been to see a band in Truro and he was driving them back, because – being sensible and thoughtful – he had been drinking orange juice all night and – being hard-working and practical – he had saved up enough money from his Saturday job, plus birthday and Christmas, to have bought a car a couple of months earlier. A deeply uncool white Renault 5, which still smelled of an old lady’s handbag, but it was his pride and joy.

Oh, Aidan. If she had just kept her mouth shut. If she had just kept her head!

The coroner had recorded a verdict of accidental death. The local newspaper had described it as a tragedy, with the chief reporter at the time calling for safety barriers to be put up at the side of the road. We must never allow a senseless accident like this to happen in our town again, he had written at the start of a passionate think-piece, alongside a picture of himself, stern-faced, standing at the edge of the road where it had happened.