Imelda realised her crucial omission and laughed. ‘Oh God no, I’m sorry. I meant to say I used to know your brother – my name’s Imelda Burova – but it was a long time ago.’

The woman shook her head. ‘I can’t believe it! I bloody knew it! James!’ she called back into the house. ‘Get yourself down here at once and see who’s come.’ She took Imelda by the arm and led her inside the house where she almost squeezed the life out of her in an emotional hug.

‘I always said you’d come. I knew you would. Mind you, you’ve kept us waiting long enough!’

‘I’m sorry. I meant to come sooner, but things were – complicated. I didn’t even know if Cillian had mentioned me at all.’

‘Mentioned you? Sure, you were all he talked about that weekend. We were sick of hearing about you! No, just kidding! He said that he’d found his perfect woman and that next time he came home you’d be coming with him. We couldn’t wait to meet you.’

Over the next couple of hours Nuala shared stories of Cillian that spanned the years from a cheeky little boy to a handsome young daredevil. She showed Imelda photographs and when it was time for her to leave, Nuala gave her several to take with her.

‘Be sure to come again tomorrow and I’ll give you and your friends a guided tour of Baltimore and then you can all come back here for your tea.’

Imelda promised that she would.

‘And one more thing before you go. Thank you. Because of you, when Cillian died, he was the happiest man alive. I can’t tell you how much of a comfort that has been to me for all these years.’

Imelda decided to walk for a little before she joined Esther and Henry back at the hotel. She wanted to bask in the happiness of knowing that Cillian had shared his feelings for her with his family. She set off along the clifftop towards the beacon. The colours of the sea, the sky, the grass and the rocks were as bright and fresh as the wind that whipped her dress around her calves and her hair across her face. She paused for a moment to catch her breath and looked up at the beacon that dazzled white in the sunlight. In the distance, a figure stood on the headland – a lone sentinel staring out to sea and by his side a loping, long-legged dog. He seemed oblivious to everything except the infinite expanse of sky and water before him. But then he turned towards Imelda and raised his hand in greeting. She raised her hand to her lips and blew a kiss in return.

‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I always have.’ Tears blurred her eyes and by the time they had fallen, the man and the dog had gone.