‘Are they bad, the panics?’ Jez asked. He was looking directly at her, as if he were trying to judge the truth of her answer by what her eyes told him.

‘Bad enough,’ she said. ‘It’s the unpredictability that makes it so hard. I can go days and days without anything and then, bam, I’m right back where I started.’

Jez nodded as if he understood exactly. ‘My mate was in Iraq. He’s the same. It doesn’t matter what we say to him, about how it was a war, and that he was there to do a job, that shit happens. He just can’t deal with the guilt. They say it just takes time. Not sure how helpful that is, though.’

She shrugged, but then suddenly she didn’t want to think about herself and her problems any more.

‘Less of my doom and gloom,’ she said, trying to raise her face into a smile. ‘How about you? What have you been up to?’

‘Not nearly as much as you!’ he replied wryly. ‘I’m working on the farm, obviously. I love it, working outside. I thought for a bit that I should have gone to uni like everyone else, but I don’t think that now. And I’m as good as hitched.’

Waves of something that might have been jealousy washed over Pip. She didn’t want Jez or the life that he could offer, but the thought that he didn’t want her either snapped at her heart like a terrier.

‘Do I know her?’ she asked, although she really hoped that she didn’t.

Jez shook his head. ‘Teresa? I don’t think so. She manages one of the big hotels in town. She’s from Ipswich originally.’

‘And have you set a date?’ Pip asked lightly, hoping that her expression wasn’t giving away her odd sense of disappointment.

‘No. We keep putting it off. We can’t agree on what we want. She wants a huge do. Top hats and all that. I’d rather something a bit less flash. Your dad said we could have a marquee at the farm, which was decent of him, but Teresa wants a hotel.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sure we’ll get there in the end.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ Pip replied, closing the subject down. She didn’t want to hear about Jez and his happiness any more than she had to. ‘So, tell me everything you know about the Mountcastles,’ she said.

Jez narrowed his eyes, scrutinising her steadily. ‘Are you going to tell me why you want to know?’

‘Nope,’ she said.

He tutted. ‘You always did like to be mysterious,’ he said. ‘Well, I don’t know much more than I told you the other day. There were two of them, sisters. They lived together in a house on the prom. Mum used to clean for them. Then one of them died, took a fall apparently. I’m not sure which one, but the rumour was that one of them had pushed the other down the stairs. Then the one that wasn’t dead sacked Mum. Accused her of nicking something when she hadn’t. Or maybe that happened the other way around. I’m not sure. It was years ago, long before we were even born, but Mum’s still going on about it now. She said that even though everyone knew that she’d never steal, it still left a stain on her reputation. Every time we went past the house, she’d start up again about how unfair it all was.’