‘Right, well, must get on. Did you want a cup of tea?’

‘Two please, and two chocolate muffins.’

As Anna placed the cups and plates on the table in front of Muriel, Lizzie caught her attention from the next table.

‘Here you go, Mum.’

‘You were a long time chatting to Angie. Anything interesting?’

‘Not really. Didn’t know she was mates with Auntie Tina, though.’

‘Ah, yes. Strange if you ask me. Would never have put those two down as friends, not in a lifetime.’

‘I thought it odd too. But she said their friendship had “grown out of tragedy”.’ Anna mimicked Angie’s voice.

‘Hmm. Or the need to stick together.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing, ignore me. Bitter old woman. Sour grapes. All that stuff,’ Muriel said with a wave of her hand.

‘Sorry to go off again, Mum, but I want to have a quick word with Lizzie.’

‘Yes, you do that.’ Muriel raised one eyebrow. ‘But take what she says with a pinch of salt. She lies.’

Anna’s stomach dropped. What a strange thing for her mother to say. Was it part of the suspected dementia – coming out with odd things out of context? She needed to look into it, and make a doctor’s appointment soon. ‘Will do,’ she said as she turned and took a seat back at Lizzie’s table.

‘Hi, again. Sorry about Mum acting a bit … odd.’ Anna gave what she hoped was an apologetic expression.

‘No worries. But I really think your mother believes she recognises me, Anna.’

‘She might well do. It’s not as if Mapledon is a big village – and back then everyone lived in each other’s pockets. She probably remembers you even though you only lived here briefly.’

‘You don’t, though, do you?’

‘No. But trust me, there’s a lot I don’t remember from my childhood. We don’t tend to, though, do we? I mean, as adults, there’s not a lot of recall from before the age of ten or so. Personally, I struggle to even remember much about my teen years.’

‘Oh, yes, I agree. But there’s something … more …’ Lizzie fiddled with her mug. ‘It’s the way that Muriel looked at me.’

‘Mum, Mum, come here a sec,’ Anna called.

‘Oh, no, seriously, don’t bother her now. We can talk another time.’ Lizzie’s voice sounded panicky.

Muriel rose from her chair and, cup of tea in hand, wandered across to them.

‘Mum. You remember Lizzie, don’t you?’

Muriel nodded very slowly, almost comically.

‘From when she lived in the village?’ Anna coaxed.

‘Yes. From when she lived here. With her dad.’

‘Look, really – I’m sure I look like many other people. I wasn’t here long. I don’t think you really can – it’s probably someone else you remember.’

‘No, no. I would recognise those eyes anywhere. And the fact you’ve chosen now to come back makes me think I’m right. I know who you are.’

In the pause that followed it was as though the whole world had silenced itself – its breath held.