“Could.” Emily let the word tumble out as she took another sip of her drink. She felt the burn at the back of her throat, coating the frustration she knew she dared not speak. It was infuriating, having her sit there and pretend that the last fifteen years hadn’t happened. To assume that Emily would simply forgive her godmother for ignoring her all that time.

“Could.” Adrianna gave a small smile. “Of course. She really was a remarkable woman. She helped me mend my first broken heart. Told me no man deserved my tears, especially one who cheated on me with a so-called friend.” She let out a small laugh, absentmindedly stroked her hair. “Got your mother and I drunk as skunks on cheap wine from Tuscany. Said it had helped her on more than one occasion.”

When did she have her heart broken? Emily wondered. The idea of Catriona Robinson being vulnerable was so strange. Even more so the image of the three women, intoxicated and bonding over the disadvantages of men. It made Emily want to go back, to know them all when they were young.

“Like the time you fell asleep and forgot to pick me up from swimming?” There was a distinct note of bitterness in Tyler’s voice, one that he didn’t even bother to try to conceal.

“I seem to remember Emily being the one who taught you to swim,” Adrianna replied, fixing her son with a look.

“Hardly.” Tyler took a long drink, looked absently out of the window.

“If she hadn’t been diving under the water and calling out for you to jump in, you never would have had the nerve to try.”

“Says the person who refused to ever go in the sea for fear of ruining her makeup.”

It was like some banal game of tennis, watching the two of them try to pick points off each other. What had happened between them, or was she forgetting that it had always been that way?

“How Margot and I laughed at the sight of you two with your bottoms in the air like little ducks.” A stray tear made its way from the corner of her eye and she tapped at it gently. Almost as if she were grateful for its presence. Almost as if she wanted Emily to see that she still grieved.

Emily let her mind wander back to her own memory of that day. When the sun was high, the sky empty of clouds, and the water just cold enough to make you gasp when it hit your skin. Tyler had stood on the bank, watching her with a mixture of hate and admiration, eventually giving in to her calls of “chicken” along with the promise from his mother of an ice cream if he dared to jump.

It was the same day she had been thinking of only yesterday morning. Could it be as soon as that? It seemed like a lifetime since Tyler had arrived. Years rather than hours since she had shut tight the front door and walked along the lane to the station. If she were still at home, she would be thinking about bringing in the washing left dancing on the line. Or picking some tomatoes from the greenhouse to have with her lunch. Or tucked up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a slice of Battenberg, going over sketches or finishing the copy of Magpie Murders sent to her by her grandmother’s publisher.