‘I’m sorry.’ He came to squat beside her, and placed a solid, comforting arm about her shoulders. ‘I shouldn’t have brought it up, only I want to know you, Tilly, and your daughter is such a big part of your life. I should have waited. Please’—she felt his lips on her hair—‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘It’s okay.’ Tilly gave a watery sniff. ‘I don’t want to forget her,’ she reiterated fiercely, ‘but sometimes the hurt and the guilt is nearly unbearable, knowing, in those last moments, that she would’ve been so frightened.’ She let herself lean into his strength, feeling again the comfort of having somebody hold her, the tension leaching away with the contact. ‘I should’ve jumped in myself, not left it to Gerry.’

‘You can’t go there. “Should haves” have broken more hearts and wrecked more lives than you can count. Regret is the cruellest thing, my dear, because you can’t change it.’

‘I know.’ She ran a finger below her eyelid to catch a vagrant tear. ‘What did you call me?’

‘My dear. Because you are becoming increasingly dear to me, Tilly. I’m sorry – am I presuming too much?’ He pulled back to look at her, his brown eyes intent as they searched her face. Using his thumb, he wiped away another tear by her mouth. ‘I’ve fallen for you, Tilly. I expect a lot of men do. But if you’re not ready, or have a violent dislike of my job . . . I mean, I came to you under false pretences. And there’s your husband.’

‘No.’ She straightened to face him. ‘I never want to set eyes on Gerry again. Even if I’d never met you, that is over.’

‘So, there’s a chance for me?’

He looked so eager and hopeful that she couldn’t help but smile and tease him a little. ‘Well, there might be. I do feel a connection between us. Is it just loneliness because we’ve nobody else in our lives? I think the only way to be sure is to see more of each other. So, will you be around for long, Mr Doyle? Hang on, it is Doyle, isn’t it?’

‘It is.’ He was smiling too. ‘And a little bird told me that you’re Matilda.’

‘Yes. A stupid name, but that’s mothers for you.’

‘I like it. It’s rare and different. It suits who you are. And as to being around – yes, I shall be, until I’ve swept you off your feet. And speaking of mothers – may I meet yours?’