‘My mate’s got this bothy,’ he said. ‘Great sailing. Gorgeous scenery. Place to clear your head and put things into perspective.’

‘So?’

‘Look, Prudence, I’ll come clean with you.’

‘Don’t!’ I laid my hand over his. ‘Honestly, it’s OK. The whole thing’s been lovely but I quite understand.’

‘I don’t think you do.’ He pushed his glass towards me. ‘Got any more of this?’

I refilled his glass. He looked around the kitchen and gave a deep, shuddering sigh, like a beast of burden. I had no idea what was going on in his head. Who was this sundried man in his garish shirt? In fact, I longed for him to leave. I was too old to be dumped, yet again. Beginnings were easy but you needed stamina for endings, and I was nearly seventy-one.

‘My wife was my world,’ he said. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘Of course,’ I said testily. ‘Of course she was.’

‘But when I met you, something clicked. See, I’d never met a woman who could match me, word for word.’ He stopped. ‘Who could more than match me, to be honest. You see, my Ange, she wasn’t blessed with a lot up top. To be perfectly honest.’

‘I’m sure she—’

‘No, hear me out. She’d never had an education, bless her. She’d had a dad who took the strap to her, too, like mine did. We had that in common, know what I mean? She was still that child, that damaged child. Men had abused her all her life—photographers, boyfriends—and I wanted to look after her and make her happy. Because nothing else did, you know? All those fads she fell for, the mindfulness, the colonic irrigation, the diets and acupuncture, the quacks and charlatans, the Climate Extinction bollocks—’

‘I wouldn’t call it bollocks, actually. Extinction Rebellion.’

He raised his hands. ‘Look, if it made her happy, fair play. But it didn’t, none of it did, so I made it my job to save her.’ He drained his glass. Oh Lord, he was going to be too drunk to drive. ‘But in the end I couldn’t. And I’ve got to live with that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She’d tried it before, to be frank. Twice. But I got there in time and they pumped out her stomach. But on this occasion she made sure I was away. Flying a customer to Antwerp. A diamond dealer. And I’ll never forgive myself.’

I stared at him. ‘I thought she had an aneurism.’

He shook his head.

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’

‘And I’d failed her.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t—’

‘Look, sweetheart, what’s past is past,’ he said.

‘Not really—’

‘I’m dealing with it, trust me. I just wanted to fill you in.’