‘Listen, why don’t you step away from the edge a bit?’ he says. ‘It’s not safe. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I left you here and you slipped. Come on, dear.’

The wind lashes my face and my eyes start to stream, a mix of rain and tears. I wipe them with the back of my hand then look out across the river. There is no sign of Elspeth. It must have been my mind playing tricks on me again.

‘So are you going to tell me your name?’

I turn round and stand facing him, my arms hanging limply by my side.

‘It’s Maggie.’

‘Maggie,’ he says brightly. ‘That was the name of my elder sister. It’s a good name.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ I say, shivering with the cold. ‘There’s nothing good about me.’

‘Why do you say that?’

I shrug my shoulders.

‘Come on, Maggie, there must be something good about you. Everyone has good in them.’

‘My daughter was good,’ I say. ‘She was perfect and beautiful and eccentric. But most of all she was good.’

He nods his head and smiles.

‘And you were her mum,’ he says. ‘So you contributed to her goodness.’

‘I snuffed it out,’ I say. ‘I didn’t protect her.’

‘What happened to your daughter, dear?’

‘She drowned,’ I say. ‘And I don’t know why.’

‘That’s terrible,’ he says, putting his hand to his mouth. ‘Just terrible. Oh, I am sorry.’

‘Do you know how many times I have heard those words these last few weeks?’ I cry. ‘And do you know how futile they are? Why are you sorry? You don’t know me. You didn’t know my daughter.’

He looks at me sadly for a moment. ‘It’s just natural, isn’t it? People are always sorry to hear of someone’s death,’ he says. ‘Particularly a child. But I’m also sorry for you, for the pain you must be feeling.’

‘I was driving the car,’ I say. ‘It went into the river, and I have no memory of it. Nothing. I would say that it was my fault but I don’t even know what I was doing out that night.’

‘Did it happen here?’

I shake my head.

‘It happened up by the Plough Inn,’ I tell him. ‘I came here because … God, I don’t know why I came here. I –’ My voice breaks. ‘I just don’t think I can get through this. I’m not strong enough.’

There’s a crack of thunder. The dog pulls at its lead.

‘Look, you go,’ I say to Tom, raising my voice above the pounding rain. ‘You’re going to get soaked. I’m fine here, honestly.’