‘Not Mr Michaels. Blake,’ Lily said, her smile tinged with a softness. ‘This is … our boat. For us. To use whenever we want.’

‘What?!’ cried Victoria, promptly being shoved out of the way by Zoe, who couldn’t wait to get on board.

‘You’re kidding me?’ demanded Malie.

‘It’s incredible,’ Zoe squealed, wheeling across the wide access ramp onto the back end of the boat that had enough space for all the girls and for her to be able to spin in a circle. ‘He did this? Blake? For us?’

Lily nodded, a tear gathering in the corner of her eye and hoping beyond all hope that wherever Blake was, he could see this – the joy and happiness he’d given to her friends. To her. Zoe clutched a hand to her chest, unable to form any more words.

‘And it doesn’t stop there. Just wait until we get to the beach,’ Lily promised.

‘There’s more?’

‘There’s always more,’ cried Victoria taking Lily into a brief but strong hug.

‘Henry Hawkesbury more, or—’

‘La, la, la, la, la,’ Lily replied with her fingers stuck comically in her ears. ‘Malie? Care to do the honours?’

‘Hell yeah,’ she exclaimed, lovingly caressing the wheel and pressing the button to start the engine with a reverence reserved for greatness. ‘Hear that, girls?’ she yelled over the revving engine. ‘That’s the sound of this hen party getting started.’

The snazzy new boat took less than a quarter of the time it used to take to get to the beach in the old rowing boat. Lily relished the feel of the wind in her hair, the cool sea salt spray as they surfed the waves. The look of delight on her friends’ faces was something that she would remember for the rest of her life. She sent up a prayer of thanks to Blake for all the wondrous things he’d done for each of them, not only for the hen party and wedding, but over the years. Because in a way, he had given them something precious, something that they never really imagined they’d have again.

Malie whooped when she saw the large jetty sprawling out from the beach into the bay, slowing and then gently reversing the engines so that Lily could jump out and moor them at the end.

‘Is that …’ Zoe trailed off, looking at the concrete walkway that led from the jetty across the beach towards the gazebo and the base of the road that Henry had driven to the night before.

‘Yes,’ Lily replied absently, knowing that her friend was thinking of the pathway that would make her chair able to handle the soft sand on the beach. But Lily wasn’t seeing that. She was seeing what Henry had done for her. For them.