‘No animal can dig it up now I’ve laid the slabs. Don’t worry,’ Daphne would reassure me, when I confided in her. Most nights she crept into my room, after you were fast asleep. It was comforting to have her warm body next to mine. I didn’t feel so alone with my dark thoughts. One hot sticky night in July, as we lay in each other’s arms with just a white sheet covering us, she said, ‘Do you think you’re bisexual?’

I sat up, leaning on my elbow to look at her, the moonlight highlighting her sharp cheekbones. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Well, you were married.’

‘Um, actually I’ve never been married.’

Her eyes looked huge in the half-light. ‘What? But Lolly’s father . . .’

‘I’m not a widow. I ran away from him. He was . . . is . . . a psycho.’

I felt her stiffen beside me. ‘I did wonder if you were running from someone too. You always seemed so . . . cagey. Like me, I suppose. Although we were both running from very different situations by the sound of it.’ She reached out and touched my cheek. ‘But then I thought maybe you were just shy.’ She took her hand away and pulled the sheet up over her chest. Her arms were tanned after so many days in the garden with you. ‘So he’s still out there, Lolly’s dad?’

I nodded. ‘His name’s Victor.’

‘Victor.’ She sounded the name slowly. ‘That sounds posh.’

‘We were never in a relationship. Romantically,’ I said, to try to put her mind at rest. ‘It’s . . . it’s complicated.’ I didn’t want to tell her about Victor and what he’d done to me. I didn’t want it to sit between us, like an evil presence, tainting what we had. ‘Before him I was with a woman for a long time. Audrey. What about you?’

She chuckled in the darkness. ‘I’ve had sex with men but it never felt right. Then I realized I preferred women.’

I felt a throb of jealousy. ‘We shouldn’t put labels on it anyway.’

‘I’m not. I was just wondering about Lolly’s father, that’s all. I’ve always wanted children but I’m forty now.’

This surprised me. She looked younger. ‘Really? You don’t look it.’

She smiled in response. I nestled back down on the bed so that we were both under the sheet, facing each other. Shadows danced on the walls behind her.

‘Does it ever go away?’ I whispered into the darkness.

‘Does what?’

‘The guilt? For taking someone else’s life?’

She didn’t say anything at first and I wondered if I’d offended her. Then she said, her voice sad, ‘I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to Susan. I’ve paid the price. I did my time. I ruined my life. But I’ll never get over it.’