‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but I think I’ll be all right. Isn’t that breeze wonderful? I remember when Scarlet was a baby. The first time I took her outside in the wind she didn’t know what to make of it at all. I don’t suppose there’s much weather in the womb, so it must have been a bit of a shock. The look on her face when the wind blew into her. Priceless. She couldn’t work out how to breathe for a moment. It was worrying, and then extremely sweet.’ Evelyn smiled at the memory, so old and yet so very fresh. It felt good to be talking about her daughter after all this time, and she resolved to do it more often.

They strolled, side by side, along the promenade towards the pier. As they walked, the sun peeped out from between the clouds and white light danced on the waves, making the sea sparkle. Optimistic holidaymakers sat in deckchairs and on towels whilst their small children, dressed in little swimming outfits that covered every inch of their bodies, scampered backwards and forwards to the water. When she had brought Scarlet to the beach she had worn her little red polka-dot costume, or sometimes just her knickers, if it was an impromptu visit. It had been, Evelyn felt now, a simpler time.

‘Scarlet used to love the water,’ she said to Pip. ‘She was like a little seal. In and out of the waves all day long. She had even started to swim, which was early for her age, although I always made sure she had her armbands on. The tides can be brutal here.’ Having rejected Pip’s arm when it had been offered, she now slipped her hand in the gap made by the crook of her elbow, and continued without commenting on her change of heart. ‘Looking back,’ she added, ‘I think Scarlet’s love of water was probably what drew her to the pond in the first place. It would have been calling to her.’

But she should never have been there on her own. That’s what Pip would be thinking. Evelyn knew it, because that was what everyone always thought. It was a tragedy, but why was a three-year-old child out on her own in the vicinity of a garden pond? Where was the irresponsible mother? How could she have let that happen?

Evelyn had become adept at defending herself from the ill-intentioned thoughts that came her way, bouncing them away like bullets off a shield. Pip was polite enough not to ask, but Evelyn still guarded herself against the question. She alone knew what had happened to Scarlet and what her own part in it had been. But maybe it was time to change that. Perhaps she could share the truth with Pip.