She would never tell Lorna and Roy what had happened just before Aidan had died; the cruel things she had said to him. No way. How could she do that to them and break their hearts all over again, knowing that his last thought, his last emotion, had been one of devastation at her betrayal? No, she would have to live with the guilt of her worst secret alone, and it would be only what she deserved.

As for her other secret . . . it had become impossible to keep back any longer. Having so much time to herself, seeing Lorna and Roy again, revisiting her teenage hangouts – it was no wonder that her first pregnancy and birth had come pushing to the surface. She’d even blurted the story out to Em and Maggie the night before – Can I tell you guys a secret? Like – something really big? – and then out it had come, albeit a pared-down version, with scant details around the event. His dad was dead, I was all alone, she had confessed, the words bursting out of her, and the other women had ended up soothing and comforting her as if she were a child herself.

And now Lorna and Roy knew too, presumably. There was a baby: all eight pounds and eight ounces of the secret that she had suppressed for nineteen years. He was born in Dorset on April the fourth, 1999, she had written:

He had blue eyes and dark hair like Aidan and roared like a lion as he met the world. But I couldn’t keep him. I gave him away to be adopted. I’m sorry that I never told you before now. For a long, long time I put him out of my mind and tried to start a new chapter. But you and Roy deserve to know that you have a grandson out there. A little piece of Aidan. I hope you don’t hate me too much.

The countryside was flashing by on either side of her as she sped along the road, putting mile upon mile between her and the letter. She imagined Lorna’s cry of shock, a tear perhaps dropping onto that floury apron-front as she read Olivia’s confession. She pictured Roy’s sudden anger, their shared hurt and bewilderment – how could she have kept this from us? How could she have given our grandchild away?

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she groaned aloud. The rushing noise she could hear wasn’t the wind battering against the car, but Fate, she thought, hurrying to catch up with her. An old ghost breathing down her neck.