The longer she lay in the dark, the more she realised the reality of it. By hanging on to Eddie, she was stopping him from having the real thing. Maybe, that’s what he’d have with Anya. And that just made her wail all the more loudly.

‘Huh,’ Maya had snorted as she’d poured them two large brandies when they got back to the farmhouse the previous evening. ‘Medicinal purposes,’ she’d told their father. Soon, she’d managed to put into words what Liv was still struggling to absorb.

‘I always said he wasn’t good enough for you,’ her father had muttered. ‘Couldn’t count the times I said that to your mother. He’s a cheat and a liar and if right was right, he’s getting exactly what suits him in Anya Hegarty.’

‘That’s neither here nor there.’ Her mother had put her arms around Liv who was even more inconsolable at the idea of Eddie and Anya being perfectly suited; it didn’t matter that her father meant it in a bad way, it just felt as if Liv was even further on the outside than before. ‘It’s all right, love, you’ll see. All of this will turn out for the best in the end, even if it’s hard to see it now.’

‘How can you say that, Mum?’ Because Liv felt that on every level her heart was breaking and she’d never survive this enormous blow.

‘Because I know, there’s someone else who’s meant for you and Eddie Quirke has only been standing in the way.’

‘Yes, but what if the only someone else for me has already passed me by?’ She’d thought about that gorgeous ring in Eddie’s workshop then. ‘I thought Eddie was going to propose this Christmas,’ Liv had managed between gulping sobs.

‘Saints preserve us. Well thank goodness he didn’t; that’s all I can say.’ Her father had nodded to Maya; there was no point in him having an empty glass.

So they’d sat around the table while it all tumbled out of Liv. The beautiful engagement ring and the rest. The more she spoke, the more even she could hear the truth of her relationship with Eddie. It had been all take on Eddie’s side and not even a little give. He’d lapped up a free place to stay, home-cooked meals, laundry sorted and free help in the workshop on her days off. She’d been a chauffeur when he was too drunk to drive and a telephone receptionist when his mother called. Actually, the more she’d talked, the more it became apparent that she’d been lavishing him with enough attention for both of them and there had been nothing in return apart from that misguided belief that he loved her, even if he never said it, and the vague hope that one day he would marry her.