He looked exasperated. “Just when we thought we were out of the woods.” He raised his voice. “Look, I’ll have to close. I’m sorry, folks. It’s not safe. We should be open again in the morning.” He ushered us all out the door, muttering, “That’ll teach me to open on a Sunday.”

Outside, Maeve set off, saying she was going to try to get home for the first time in a day and a half, and Phyllis looked at me. “We might as well go for that walk now, don’t you think? We might not get the chance later.”

I nodded. “You get Fred and I’ll get the car.”

On my way to the Mini, I called into one of the smaller food shops for a bottle of water. I was thirsty after all that coffee and knew the salty air at the shore would make it even worse. The shop was buzzing, though the shelves were virtually empty. Plenty of water though; I guessed it was counterintuitive to stockpile water with so much rain about. I wondered what state our poor supermarket was in.

I was queueing at the till to pay when I realized that the toned shoulders of the T-shirt-clad woman in front were Mary’s. Her basket was overfull – she’d obviously been stocking up on whatever groceries were left. I felt a wave of sympathy for her, having to grieve in secret while keeping her hostess face on.

I touched her arm and she turned. When she saw me, her eyes glistened, and I thought she was going to cry. “Oh Mary, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Are you okay?”

She looked haunted, shadows beneath her eyes, but still so very striking. I wondered how on earth she could have put her life on hold for so long, for a man who was married to someone else? If that was what she had done.

“I’m fine,” she said brightly. “Delighted it’s stopped raining. Hoping to get out for a swim later.”

“Can I help carry anything? You look laden down.” And not just physically, I thought.

And with that her mask slipped and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “We’ve had a huge row. It’s been awful.”

“You mean Amanda?” I whispered.

She nodded. We made our way over to the magazine display shelves, the only part of the shop that was deserted, because there was nothing there.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She found me cleaning their room,” Mary said. “I’ve been trying to hold it together, I really have. But I found tickets.”

“Tickets?”

“From a travel agent in Derry. They were leaving, the two of them.” She corrected herself. “The four of them. There were tickets for the children too.”