With the last of the sobs still obstinately refusing to leave Kat’s chest, she nods and returns Becca’s smile. When she steps into the thickly carpeted hallway, she notices that Becca is barefoot. Becca gives her a sheepish grin. ‘For years we had to have a hard surface in here, easy access for the wheelchair,’ she explains. ‘So now we have thick pile carpet, and I don’t think I’ll ever tire of digging my toes into it.’

Becca leads Kat into the living room and gestures for her to sit on the sofa. Then she lowers herself down into the armchair opposite. There are four cards on the mantelpiece, each following the theme of a happy first wedding anniversary, and a photo of Becca in a white dress, stood next to a man with wide eyes and a generous smile.

‘You’re married?’ Kat asks timidly. Even now, she can’t help feeling awestruck by Becca’s beauty, inside and out.

‘Yes, a year ago. It rained all day, but that’s our fault for choosing a winter wedding. I wouldn’t get married until I could walk down the aisle unaided, but of course as soon as I could, I wanted to do it straight away. So late January it was.’

‘Your life was on hold for such a long time.’ Kat feels tears smarting again.

Becca leans forward. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Kat watches her go about the ritual of pouring two cups from a pot on the coffee table. Milk? Sugar? The distinctly British way of giving Kat a moment, but also an example of Becca’s compassion, perhaps the result of her being so badly bullied for her Jewish heritage that she was forced to change schools. ‘They weren’t wasted years,’ she finally answers. ‘I learned a lot about myself; and I promised myself that I would walk again, that I just needed to be patient. And here I am.’

‘You always had such strength,’ Kat whispers. ‘Principles.’

Becca takes a sip of tea. ‘It wasn’t very principled to show Clara your letter.’

Kat’s hand trembles and she places her mug back down. ‘I shouldn’t have written it,’ she whispers. ‘Put you in that position.’

‘You were vulnerable and showed nothing but love. And I laughed at you.’

‘That’s not true,’ Kat mumbles. ‘You came after me, that’s why you were hit by the car. That’s why it’s my fault.’

‘You felt guilty about my car accident. And I felt guilty for putting you in that position. That’s why I worked so hard to walk again. So that we could both be free of it.’ She pauses. ‘Because I knew one day you’d come. I just didn’t think it would take this long.’