I approach the house, knocking loudly on the front door, my rap echoing on the other side. There’s a faint sound of footsteps that gradually get closer until the door slowly opens and I’m face-to-face with her.

I hold my breath as I take her in. Her skin droops on her cheeks, sunken into the bones, which in turn makes her eyes look wider. A curve in her back bends her over so she hunches forward. I release my breath and smile through the shock of how much she has aged. ‘Hi, Annie,’ I say.

‘Stella?’ She leans her head to one side. ‘Stella Harvey?’ Her hand shakes against the door frame. ‘Rachel told me you were coming and I wondered when you were going to visit me.’ She pauses and smiles. ‘Well, my dear, there’s no point us standing in the doorway getting cold. You’d better come in.’

I step into her large hallway, memories flooding back. The grandfather clock still in one corner; the tapestry of a forest hanging on the wall. ‘Let me look at you,’ she says, taking hold of my arms and turning me to face her. She shakes her head, a smile cracking her lips. ‘All these years,’ she says. ‘I don’t know if I’d have recognised you if I wasn’t expecting you.’

‘It’s good to see you, Annie,’ I say as she ushers me through her living room and into the kitchen.

‘And what can I get you to drink? You always used to ask for hot chocolate.’

‘Whatever you’re having,’ I smile.

‘We’ll have tea,’ she says as she sets about looking for cups. ‘Sit yourself down,’ she commands, and I pull out a chair by the small round table that still stands in the centre of the room. I sat here so many times, allowing Annie to ply me with hot chocolate and biscuits. I used to take handfuls of Jammie Dodgers and custard creams, stashing them in my pockets to eat in the treehouse. She seemed proud when I’d leave with a stomach full of sugar.

‘So many years,’ she says wistfully.

‘Twenty-five,’ I say, and she nods.

‘I know, I remember it clearly.’ She turns to me with watery eyes and comes over and sits opposite, two mugs placed carefully on coasters. ‘I was so sorry to hear about your mum. It was very sad when she passed. Terrible accident,’ she murmurs. I don’t know how she’d have heard about it since she hadn’t come to the funeral. Possibly my dad had thought to call her. ‘She was a special woman …’ Annie goes on, her voice drifting away.

‘But it’s lovely to see you again.’ She pushes herself as straight as she can, holding out a hand across the table. ‘I missed you and your family a lot, you know.’

‘I’m sure not as much as I missed everyone, and the island.’