‘I don’t know,’ she says quietly. ‘I used to think they were told not to.’ Her eyes are glazed over and I can see she’s back all those years ago. ‘It hit Bob hard.’ Suddenly she snaps her focus back to me and her hands stop scrunching. ‘She missed you a lot when you left.’ Ruth smiles sadly before her face drops. ‘Anyway, that was all such a long time ago.’ She reaches out for the doily and stares at it intently as she begins fiddling again.

‘I missed her too,’ I say. ‘I wrote to her a few times but she never wrote back.’

‘Oh.’ Ruth grabs a handful of the cotton, releases it, and then flattens it down. ‘Oh right,’ she goes on. ‘I don’t know why she didn’t do that.’ She gives a small shake of her head but won’t meet my eyes and I can immediately tell she knows exactly what stopped her daughter from keeping her promise, but I also know this isn’t the time to press her. ‘I saw you put up a bench for her,’ I say instead. ‘On the clifftop.’

‘That was Bob’s idea. He said it was her favourite place. You know, I never knew it was,’ she adds, her eyes shadowing again. ‘I sit on the bench every day. People keep walking if they see me. I guess they think they’d have to talk to me about her.’

‘People often don’t know what to say regarding death so they find it easier not to mention it. Maybe they also think you want that time alone.’

Ruth nods.

‘I had many friends who didn’t know how to handle me when my mum died,’ I say.

‘Annie told me about your mum.’ I wait for Ruth to express some kind of condolence but she adds nothing. Mum and she were never close, but as far as I knew they were friendly. It surprises me that she offers nothing.

Ruth frowns and pushes her chair back. ‘I have things I should be getting on with,’ she says, when there’s a sudden noise outside and we both turn towards the window. When I look back she’s already standing, flattening her skirt, her eyes flicking from me to the glass.

I’m conscious it’s probably Bob and that he’ll walk through the door any moment, but there’s more I want to ask Ruth. I never intended to follow Freya’s request to question my old friends, but at the same time I want to know what they do. ‘It’s nice to be back but I wish it was in better circumstances,’ I say. My words spill out quickly.

Ruth nods. ‘Yes. It’s a horrible affair.’

‘Does anyone have any idea what happened?’ I ask, expecting Bob to crash into the house any minute.