She pulled herself up mentally and literally, swinging her leg over the bicycle. Later. She’d deal with it all later. She’d reached the fork in the path where one would take her back to town and the other would cut through the forest edging the vineyards and down to the estate’s private beach.

She longed to take that path. To visit the place that held so many wonderful memories of much, much easier times. She, Victoria, Malie and Zoe had spent almost every day of their summer holidays, and a fair few weekends in between, on that beach. She couldn’t help but reach for the echoes of laughter and delight as they would ‘borrow’ Mr Michaels’ small fishing boat from the harbour. Always just a little too late to catch them, he’d yell at them from the harbourside, fist raised and almost sincere, if it hadn’t been for the smile on his face as he did so. They would row out into the estuary and round the bay, and Malie, always Malie, would jump into the water, and pull the boat up onto the shore.

They would catch mackerel off the high rocks that bracketed the beach, burning empty crab shells on tiny fires made from driftwood watching them turn that incredible vivid pink, dreaming of their futures, of escape from Hawke’s Cove, of glamorous lifestyles full of rich, handsome men, of all living together one day. Some of that had happened, some not. And the familiar ache of Victoria, Malie and Zoe’s absence from Hawke’s Cove felt like a distant drumbeat in her heart.

But Malie was coming back and Victoria was never that far away in London. And just the thought of it chased away the tendrils of sadness, adding a bit more power to her forward momentum. Oh, Lily knew it wouldn’t quite be the same as when they’d been kids, when it had been just the four of them. Because it wasn’t just the four of them anymore, with each of her friends newly or recently engaged. Lily genuinely wasn’t jealous in the slightest, but still – she let the bike glide forward for a second and unconsciously shrugged to herself – it wouldn’t be the same.

The road beneath the bicycle turned to cobbles and before she knew it, she had pulled up in front of the building that housed her restaurant and her small flat above, just in time to see her mother walking towards her from the harbour, raising a hand and a smile. Lily felt her own wobble a little and desperately needed the hug she reached for.

‘You OK, darling?’

‘Mmm,’ was all Lily could reply as she held just a few seconds longer onto the hug, fearful that if she opened her mouth, it would all come pouring out. Her memories had stirred up more than grief for Blake.