‘And doesn’t she have the best big sister in the world too?’ her mother said and Jo allowed the warm glow of her praise to wash over her. That, after all, was what really mattered. She could achieve nothing else in life other than to be a good sister and it would be enough.

Later, when she couldn’t ignore her rumbling stomach any longer Jo walked into the centre of town and bought a bag of chips from The Four Lanterns which she liberally doused in salt and vinegar before eating them direct from the bag as she walked to the shorefront. She desperately needed a break from her work – the notes Ewan had given her no longer making sense in front of her tired eyes. Fresh air, and something to eat, would do her good.

It was a dry evening with just the slightest chill in the air. Families and couples with dogs walked along the beach lost in conversation, while Jo sat on the sand and listened to the waves crash to shore. She tried to absorb everything around her. The warmth of the chips, the tang of the vinegar. The snippets of conversations carried on the breeze. She sat and thought of how she felt in that moment. How she would write it down if she had a notepad and pen with her. How she would try and make sense of her day. How the characters in her book, if she fast-forwarded them to the present time, could slip into the day she’d been having. Into this bizarre day when the sun was starting to set, and the sky was clouding over with grey clouds heavy with the promise of downpour.

Ideas started to flood her mind and she wrapped what was left of her chips up and stood up to walk to the bin to dispose of them.

What she absolutely was not expecting to happen was to have Paddy run full pelt at her, almost knocking her off her feet. Confused, she looked around her as Paddy jumped up to say a very excited hello. By the rapid wag of his tale, it was as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks, even though it had only been around thirty-six hours.

‘How on earth did you get here?’ she asked him, as she crouched down and scratched at his neck in just the way he liked. She looked up again, took in the walkers on the beach, figures huddled in small groups in jackets now zipped up to their necks. How she wished Paddy could talk and tell her exactly what had brought him there. It was a Friday night, and highly unlikely that he was being walked by Noah, who would be up to his eyes in work at The Ivy Inn, especially without her support.