She shook her head, pulling her purse out of her pocket at the same time. My dad’s at home, but he gets upset. Anyway, he’ll be in the pigeon loft. He stays there most of the time since it happened. I’ve got my bus pass, will that do?’ She put it on the counter. ‘And there’s Sergeant Edge at the police station. He gave me his card and said if I had any problems at all, I could call him.’

The older man looked at the younger one. ‘I don’t think we need to do that. Let’s see what we have, shall we?’ He took the collection ticket and went into the back of the shop.

She could hear what sounded like a filing-cabinet drawer open, then two thumps of a stapler. He returned to the shop holding a midnight-blue-and-gold paper bag.

‘There you are, my dear. Just sign for it. There’s nothing to pay.’

Outside the shop, she took some deep breaths and walked a little way down the high street. The air was crisp, cold, and the town still busy with bargain hunters in the January sales. As the late-afternoon light faded, she saw herself in the shop windows, alone.

What she really needed was a friend to talk to, or just to be silent with. Shelly wished there was someone who could sit with her while she opened the bag. Her emotions were so exhausting that she felt weak most of the time. Looking around, she realised she’d entered the pedestrian area and faced Gerrard’s Cake Shop. Suddenly starving, she bought herself a sausage roll and a cola and sat on a bench that wrapped around a tree trunk.

Fortified after the food and drink, she pulled the jeweller’s bag from her tote. What could it be? She eased the staples open and pulled out a box in the same colour scheme. With butterflies in her tummy, she slid it open, then gasped at the simple beauty of a beautiful, silver, teardrop-shaped bangle. ‘Oh Mum . . .’ she whispered and looked up, in her mind’s eye seeing her mother in her Burberry raincoat, with her furled umbrella and shiny old leather satchel bag slung across her body. ‘It’s beautiful.’ Then she saw the writing engraved inside.

TO THE MOON AND BACK, MY DARLING. 25.12.2000

How often had her mother asked: How much do I love you? Shelly slipped the bracelet on and whispered, ‘To the moon and back.’ Overwhelmed, her tears came fast and free. It was such a relief to be able to cry without the fear of her father hearing. Lost to grief, she felt herself cleansed in some way, then something cold and wet touched her arm and made her jump.