I strip off my clothes and realise I stink. It’s probably not healthy for me to go to bed without washing the stranger off me. But I can’t switch on the shower now because it’s far too noisy. I grab a packet of face wipes from the dressing table. I wipe and wipe until I feel cleaner… on the outside. I don’t feel cleaner on the inside. Then I get into bed, pull the duvet up tightly around my neck and I cry.

The following morning, I wake with a knot in my stomach. I think it’s excitement because I don’t feel sad right now. But what have I got to be excited about? Then it hits me. Andriu. But how will I meet him?

Tara will probably be back on the phone wondering if those detectives were questioning me. I don’t blame her for being nervous. I’m nervous too. If she does call, I’ll ask her where Andriu is staying while he’s here. I hope he’s staying in a hotel, then I can follow him and accidentally bump into him. Or maybe I should just come straight out and suggest we meet for a coffee. I’ll figure it out.

The rain is pelting down outside and this gives me another reason to be cheerful. I won’t be expected to go on one of those boring Sunday morning walks along the cliff with my father and mother. It drives me mad, both of them continuously counting their blessings that they live by the sea. Having me as their daughter never seems to shove the number of blessings up.

I’m just about to open my laptop when I hear a knock on my bedroom door. It’s a soft knock so that will be my mother. She’s very timid. Unlike my father, who’s forthright enough for both of them.

‘Can I come in?’ she whispers. My mother whispers a lot. Either she’s afraid to break me or she’s telling me secrets all the time. Whatever it is, it can be quite annoying.

‘Come in,’ I say loudly.

‘Your father wants to know if you’d like to go to the yacht club with him this afternoon. There’s some event on. You might meet some of your old friends.’

‘Mam, I don’t want to meet any of my old friends. I’m fine. Don’t be worrying about me.’

Her pale face looks to the ground as she pulls back out the door.

‘Mam,’ I say, waiting for her to stick her head in again. I wish I could make her happier. ‘Are you going?’

‘If you like.’

‘Well, if you’re going. I’ll go.’

Her face lights up, then she closes the door.