‘Mind? Oh goodness, no, of course we don’t. It’s lovely to see you.’ Just like that, her mood had changed to one of wonder and Lorna couldn’t help herself, she threw her arms around the woman just as soon as she reached her, the cellophane around the flowers crinkling in surprise. Olivia Asbury, the girl Aidan had mooned over in the sixth form! The girl who had prompted a new, never-before-seen interest in hair gel and ironed shirts and enthusiastic applications of aftershave. The girl who had been sitting next to him in the car when he died.

Lorna swallowed hard as the memories spiralled around her. ‘You’re in Bristol these days, is that right?’ she managed to say, releasing Olivia after a moment. ‘I saw your dad – gosh, it must be four or five years ago now – and he said you’d been living there a while.’

‘Bristol, yes,’ Olivia said faintly. Her eyes had a haunted look about them, her nails were gnawed down to the quick, Lorna noticed, taking in the details. She had been such a little livewire once upon a time. ‘I just . . .’ She bit her lip, her hands flying out as if they were trying to pluck the right words from the air. ‘I just wanted to come today. I hope that’s okay. Twenty years, isn’t it? I still think about him.’

There was such a lump in Lorna’s throat that she could hardly speak. She wanted to hug Olivia again, even though she knew she probably shouldn’t. But Olivia had remembered. She had cared enough to come here, all the way from Bristol. It was like receiving a gift, when you least expected it. Nodding hard, she gripped Olivia’s hands in hers, unable to express how moved this left her feeling.

‘Hello there, love,’ said Roy, noticing that his wife was speechless. ‘It’s good to see you again. You’ve never driven all the way here from Bristol this morning, have you? You must have got up with the lark!’

Trust Roy, Lorna thought, wanting to laugh and sob at the same time. Typical man! He hadn’t set eyes on this girl – woman, rather – in years and years, and the first thing he wanted to ask about was her journey? ‘Roy,’ she managed to splutter. ‘What are you like? Next you’ll be asking her did she take the motorway or the back roads, when that’s not remotely the point. The most important thing is that she’s here. It’s Olivia and – oh, I’m sorry, I just have to hug you again. Come here, pet.’