‘We got through it and that’s all that matters, Aiden. That was over eight years ago, so why are you bringing this up now?’ I’m not challenging him but the timing of this conversation. ‘I’ve only ever done what I felt was right for us all. It wasn’t your fault the business went bust, but the downturn in the economy at the time. You always did everything you could within your power, no one could have asked for more than that.’

He pauses for a moment. ‘I should have acknowledged how amazing you were during those tough times, though, before now. I’m sorry I didn’t. Anyway, I have to go, I’m afraid. Duty calls. Hannah said it’s busy at the retreat. Well, she said you were really caught up with this painting thing.’

Painting thing? If you took the time to ask me about it, I’d tell you everything, but you’ve switched off, Aiden, and I don’t know why. ‘Yes,’ I admit. ‘It’s all good, though. I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

There’s a pause that stretches out across the seconds, awkwardly.

‘Right. Um. Anyway, next Saturday on Skype?’

‘Yes. Speak then.’

‘Miss you, babe, love you,’ he adds, emphatically. ‘And thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘For being there for me every single day of our married life.’

And then I realise what day it is, and I berate myself.

‘Happy anniversary, darling. Miss and love you, too.’

As the line goes dead, I can’t believe I forgot. Eight years ago today, we tied the knot with a simple ceremony at the local registry office. The wedding party consisted of thirty people and afterwards we headed to a local hotel for a slap-up meal. Then back home to the house we’d been renovating for almost a year but which had been on hold since the death of my sister some four months prior.

It was our first day living there together, as unfinished as it was, but it marked the start of our future. Before Rachel’s death, the anticipation was like experiencing a dozen Christmases all at once and it filled us both with a sense of exhilaration. But in the aftermath of what happened, it was hard to celebrate, knowing that she should have been there and feeling angry that she’d been taken from us.