But she hadn’t done that for the simple reason she had been a coward. And worse, she hadn’t wanted to relinquish her hold of the moral high ground. Remove that and she was no better than Colin.

Except she wasn’t better than him and so when he occasionally lost control of his temper and lashed out at her, she accepted it as her punishment for her betrayal and the lies she told herself.

All of which made it sound as though their marriage had been unhappy. Which was far from the truth. Independently fuelled by guilt on both sides of the relationship, they had each made a huge effort to make things work. And so, swept along on the daily tide of family life, they had coexisted perfectly well, perhaps not as loving as some couples, but certainly better than a lot. If tenderness and passion and honesty were missing from their marriage, there had been an acceptance on Naomi’s part that, for the sake of the children, the status quo tipped the scales in favour of staying together, of keeping up the pretence.

She never allowed herself to think of what might have been if she had responded to Colin’s confession by ending their marriage on the spot and seeking a divorce. Nor did she think of what might have been if she hadn’t been already pregnant with their first child when she slept with Ellis.

What tangled lives we lead, she thought as she pushed the wheelbarrow of weeds along the brick path and added them to the compost heap. Ripping off her gardening gloves, she decided she would plant the French beans when the day had cooled down, for now she needed a drink.

Some minutes later, and with a refreshing glass of orange juice in hand, she walked down to the wooden bench seat that overlooked the beach. It was some time since she had occupied the bench, afraid that Ellis might pass by and she would have to speak to him.

That was another example of her cowardice: hiding from Ellis.

He had done just as she’d asked, given her space to decide what it was she wanted. She now knew what that was, but was worried how he might react.

When she’d finished her drink, she placed the empty glass on the ground next to the bench and closed her eyes. Before long, and without meaning to, she was drifting off to sleep, the cry of seagulls and the voices of happy children playing on the beach slowly fading into the distance.

She woke from a restful sleep to the tinny sound of far-away music playing. It was the jingling siren call of ‘Greensleeves’ coming from the ice-cream van on the jetty in the harbour. The languid tune was so very synonymous with the long, slow days of summer.

After checking her watch, she realised she had been asleep for half an hour. Time for some lunch, she thought, getting to her feet. That was when she saw Ellis walking by and when he turned and looked at her.