‘I met her in the Coffee Shop,’ Amy answered casually. ‘She was with a friend, Sam. She came over and introduced herself. Apparently Max had pointed me out to her. I really like her.’

Now, as he picks up his wallet, checks for a handkerchief and his keys, Amy shouts from the bottom of the stairs.

‘Get a move on, Dad. You’ll be late if you don’t hurry up.’

As he comes down the stairs she looks him over critically and he’s glad he didn’t put the tie on.

‘Come on, then,’ he says. ‘We’re picking up Cara on the way to the boatyard.’

It’s crazy to feel nervous, as if he’s a boy on his first date, but he can’t help himself. Maybe Amy will help to keep it all normal. They see Cara, waiting in Buckley Street by the steps that lead down to the Fortescue, and she waves to them. He’s pleased to see that she’s dressed as usual in jeans but with a long velvet tunic, nothing fussy but still managing to look chic, and they walk along companionably whilst Amy tells Cara about Charley.

As they drive, Jack is relieved that the conversation is easy and he begins to relax. It’s foolish to feel anxious but, after all, he doesn’t know Cara very well.

At the same time he is aware of some sense of insecurity in her. It might simply be that she is so newly widowed, added to the fact that she has nowhere to live, but something tells him that it’s more than that. It intrigues him and, although he responds to her surface bantering and good humour, he finds that he wants to know more about her.

‘You remember meeting Sam?’ she’s saying to Amy. ‘He’s Max’s godson. He’s been driving me about, showing me all these amazing places in the hope I might find somewhere I want to live. It’s all so beautiful that I’m not sure I could begin to choose.’

‘You should think about renting,’ Amy tells her. ‘Give yourself time. There are a few things coming up in Salcombe that will be let out for the winter.’

‘You’re certain you want to stay around here?’ asks Jack. ‘You won’t miss the bright lights?’

‘I don’t know,’ answers Cara honestly. ‘I feel totally at sea, actually. I didn’t want to live in London. After all, I have no friends there. We’ve been too peripatetic to make real friends. That’s why I fled to Max, I suppose. But I don’t want to impose myself on them. I must be independent.’

Jack feels another upsurge of compassion for her, remembering those early, lonely days. At least he had Amy to keep him focused, he thinks again, forever thankful for her.