‘I think it would have amazed him to see – to actually see – how many people loved him.’ Mia looked at her as if baffled. Then she looked away again, her gaze fixing upon the reflected moon, its shape flickering and twisting as the waves rippled through it, and Clover remembered again that moment when the set of waves had rolled in under them all this morning. Cory’s farewell lap. ‘. . . Do you think if he’d known . . .?’

Clover knew what she was asking, but there was no answer to give. ‘The important thing was that he knew how much you all loved him.’

‘Did he, though?’

Clover was surprised. How could Mia even doubt it? Their relationship had been fiery and passionate, but Clover had never once questioned the strength of their bond. ‘Mia, of course! You more than anyone. You were his greatest protector.’

Mia blinked at her, shaking her head softly. ‘I’m no saint. There were so many times when I wanted it to just be over. When I felt like I couldn’t keep going.’ Tears shone in her eyes. ‘I wished for this.’

Clover reached over and clutched her arm. ‘Mia, you listen to me. You didn’t want him dead. You didn’t make this happen . . . Of course you’re not a saint. No one is. It would not be humane to expect any one person to deal with everything you’ve dealt with, for the past few years, and not sometimes lose your shit. You hear me? You did the best you could. Better than anyone else could have done. Certainly better than I ever could have done. You were his wife, right to the end. You’re the mother to his kids. He was lucky to have you and he knew it. He told me that himself, so many times. Over and over he’d tell me how he couldn’t believe that you had stuck with him. He said you deserved better than him.’ Clover swallowed. ‘You are the reason he kept going as long as he did.’

Mia stared back at her with huge, shining eyes. The tears were racing down her cheeks in silent tracks. ‘. . . I just want to scream. All the time.’ The words were softly said, quiet as opening flowers, but the sinews in Mia’s neck were strained, the muscles in her arms flexed with repressed rage. ‘I want him to see what he’s done to us. I want him to see what he’s done to me. To my little boys. I want to make him suffer the way we’re suffering. Because it’s not going to ever stop. This feeling. This pain.’

Clover put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Mia, it will. With time—’