‘Lonely? Ha! Chance would be a fine thing. I’m far too busy to be lonely,’ she’d always replied, steadfastly turning away from the direction of self-pity. Turning down all the invitations she’d received, too, in dogged pursuit of being the best parent ever, running around after Amelia’s wants and needs. Yet if she was honest with herself, she could see how gratifying it must be to have a decades-long loving relationship; to still be holding hands on a crowded beach, glad of each other.

Yes, well. Sometimes it wasn’t as easy as all that.

Meanwhile, what might Amelia be doing with Will right now? Maggie checked her phone out of habit, but there was still no message. Maybe Will had taken her off to Exmoor with a load of camera equipment for a photography lesson, she thought, picturing him giving directions as he leaned over Amelia’s shoulder, the two of them concentrating deeply on the moment. Perhaps they were walking along the river together, swapping stories and getting to know each other. Or maybe all five of them had gone out, one big new patchwork family, and Amelia was enjoying her role as older sister to the little ones. Maggie remembered how, aged five or six, Amelia had liked nothing more than lining up dolls and teddies and bossing them around with gusto. She would be a good big sister, she thought. Better late than never.

Further along the beach, a bohemian-looking woman caught her eye. There was something Pre-Raphaelite about her long red flowing dress and the headdress of flowers on her blonde hair, and she had set up some kind of stall near the kayak-hire place just along from the café. HAPPINESS ART PROJECT, Maggie read on a rippling banner.

‘Hello, would you like to take part in my project?’ the woman called out, seeing her looking. She was young – early twenties, at a guess – with a sweet round face.

Maggie smiled politely but kept walking. She never took part in avant-garde things if she could help it; they made her feel self-conscious. Plus she had a strong feeling that this young woman’s project was going to be ‘out there’, as Amelia would say. No, thank you, she thought to herself.

‘It’s completely free and practically guarantees happiness,’ the woman added winningly. ‘Come on, it’ll only take a few minutes. Have a go!’

For some reason, Maggie found herself hesitating. Stopping. Maybe it was her new haircut and Suzanne having told her she could take on the world that made her think twice. Maybe there was something in the sea air that day, opening her mind to new possibilities. Or maybe she was just plain old tired of saying, No, thank you all the time – to friends, to colleagues, to Paul, to strange random women on the beach.