My breath catches and I want to ask what she means, but Ruth doesn’t give me a chance. ‘I shouldn’t have always put him first,’ she murmurs, dropping the hand that clutches the photos to her lap as the other reaches up to clasp her dressing gown closer together.

‘Ruth …’ My heart is reverberating in my ears. ‘I know the truth about Jill. I know you’re not her birth mother.’

Her hand slips from her gown, her fingers trailing down until they hang midway to her lap. She looks as if she has stopped breathing. Only a slight rise in her chest gives her away.

I wait for her to question this but she looks like she’s been expecting it for a long time. ‘I had every right to be a mother,’ she says, her words barely audible. ‘It was all I ever wanted. I looked at people like her and I thought, how could she have been given two babies and I can’t even have one? It wasn’t fair.’ Her eyes dart up to find mine, challenging me to contradict her. ‘Annie told you,’ she adds, quietly. ‘I didn’t think she ever would.’

‘No.’ I cock my head. ‘I didn’t realise Annie knew.’

‘Then …?’

‘I met Iona’s mother. Iona came to the island looking for Jill, didn’t she?’

Ruth gives a short laugh and shakes her head. Ignoring my question, she says, ‘She was never a mother. She didn’t want either of her children. She wasn’t interested in whether they had enough food or that the stench of their nappies filled the room because they hadn’t been changed all day. Her daughter was seven and was still wearing one,’ she continues, her eyes widening, glaring. As the realisation dawns on both of us that she must be talking about Iona, Ruth looks away.

‘She was too high or drunk to care. Being a mother is a gift and she didn’t deserve it.’ Ruth sticks her chin out defiantly.

‘What happened?’ I ask, grateful that she clearly wants to talk and eager she does so before Bob walks in the house.

‘Bob blamed himself for the fact I never got pregnant, though we never actually knew if it was him or me. Then one day he came home and gave me a solution. A baby girl who needed a good home and good parents. And a chance to live on a perfect island. What was I supposed to do?’ she asks, splaying her palms upright, like she thinks anyone would have done the same.

‘Adopt?’

‘And what’s the difference?’ She shakes her head. ‘We’d tried that anyway. I’d already done everything by the book but someone was still looking down on me, deciding I shouldn’t be a mum.’

Or perhaps that Bob shouldn’t be a father, I think.