“I don’t know.” She allowed her head to rest against him. His kindness overwhelmed her and a fresh sob hiccupped from her chest.

She didn’t know how long they sat. Neither of them spoke and the river was the only other witness to the floods of tears she cried. Eventually her sobbing subsided and she felt empty and exhausted. She sat up and rubbed the shoulder of Euan’s shirt, which she’d soaked with her tears.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “Do you feel you can talk now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come back to the studio and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

She followed him up the path, sat on one of the wicker chairs on the verandah and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths. This was a world away from everything that troubled her. If only she could stay.

“Here you are.” He put the cup into her hands, then sat down in the other chair.

“That’s the second time you’ve rescued me.” She managed a smile. “I owe you a life debt.”

“We can talk about how you can repay me later,” he said, then worry creased his face again. “I’m more concerned about what has brought this on. Ken rang, he was worried when you didn’t answer your phone. That’s why I came looking for you.”

Keely clutched the cup unsteadily and she put it down beside her to cool off. She’d left her phone in her bag inside, not wanting to talk to anyone. “He must think I’m an idiot.”

“Not at all. He was quite worried about you. Said something about wanting to explain about a special needs boy called Raff. Ken said he’d call out here later.”

Keely shook her head. “No, please tell him not to bother. It doesn’t matter.”

“Ken seemed to think it did.”

She gripped the arms of the old chair and looked at him. “Please, Euan. I can’t face him.”

“Ken’s a good bloke.”

“You don’t understand. No one can.”

“I can listen.”

Keely sank back and watched the river again. Perhaps he was right. It wouldn’t change anything but she’d bottled up her despair for so long that the thought of telling him seemed intoxicatingly simple.