‘I always thought you and Sasha would get together. She’s lovely.’

‘Sasha? She’s my best friend. Neither of us would want to ruin that. Plus we don’t fancy each other.’

‘What?’ She expressed mock outrage. ‘How could anyone not fancy you? That’s crazy talk.’

‘Well, yes. How about you? Is everything all right?’

‘I thought you were going to ask about my love life for a moment there.’

‘Oh?’

She smiled. ‘There’s nothing to tell, unfortunately. Though there is a very cute guy in the apartment next to mine. Biceps like grapefruit. Plays basketball . . . I might have to go along and watch him. Also, there’s this guy at work who I’m pretty sure has got the hots for me.’

‘I’m sure he has.’ Tilly was gorgeous. Light brown hair, almond eyes, cute like a children’s TV presenter. She had a lot more success with the opposite sex than me. She worked as an editor for a children’s publisher who was based here on the south coast.

‘I just wish he’d do something about it. It’s been months and I’m horny as hell.’

‘Tilly!’

‘Sorry.’ She held her hands up. ‘Big brother leaves his comfort zone. Well, if you know anyone who wants some hot sex with a girl who can’t run away, send him my way. As long as he’s hung like . . .’

‘Oh God, please.’ I covered my ears.

‘I do miss them, though,’ she said, lurching back to the original subject.

‘Just you and me, kid,’ I said, and I took hold of the back of her chair and walked on before I had to start pretending to have something in my eye.

The accident had happened when I was sixteen. The four of us were heading home after a weekend away at Center Parcs. I hadn’t wanted to go, thinking it was for kids, but we’d had a great time swimming, playing badminton and riding around on bikes all week. Dad had even let me drink, though Tilly wasn’t allowed, to her disgust.

‘It’s not like I’m an alcohol virgin,’ she’d muttered to me when our parents were out of earshot. ‘In fact . . .’

‘Tilly, shut up.’

She had always embarrassed me and made me smile in equal measure.

Mum and Dad had been arguing a lot before the holiday; she seemed irritated with him all the time and I’d been worried they were heading for divorce. But, apart from a couple of episodes related to his forgetfulness, they seemed happy and relaxed together and had even, to my teenage horror, kissed and held hands. Yuk.

‘I hope you’re lucky like me, Andrew,’ Dad said out of nowhere while he barbecued sausages behind our cabin.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, fixated on the sizzle of the meat, my stomach gurgling.