‘I’m just here packing up the last of Mum’s things,’ explained Steph. ‘She didn’t want to stay around to do it herself.’

‘You weren’t tempted to move with her, then?’

‘It’s early days between us,’ admitted Steph. ‘There’s a long way to go before I think we’re at that stage. There’s a lot of damage to repair, now the honeymoon period of our relationship is over.’

Harry nodded. ‘I’m glad you’ve found each other finally. You hold on to that, Steph, because it can be taken away from you when you least expect it. Don’t be too hard on her. No one is perfect.’

She could see the pain in his eyes. ‘You don’t have to feel guilty about anything.’

Harry shrugged. ‘So, what are you going to do with yourself now?’

‘Go back to Brighton, I expect. I don’t want to stay around here; it has too many sad memories.’ She was surprised when her voice caught in her throat.

‘Whatever your dad was, whatever he did, from what you’ve told me, there was never any doubt he loved you,’ said Harry. ‘Don’t let anything taint your memory of him.’

Steph went to speak but found the lump in her throat too big to swallow. She nodded instead, which dislodged the unexpected tears from her eyes. Harry thumbed away the tears and let out a sigh. ‘Don’t cry.’

Steph wrenched in the emotion. ‘I’m being silly and you’re being so kind.’

‘I haven’t finished being kind yet,’ said Harry. ‘I wanted to thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘For not going to the papers with your story.’

‘I didn’t want to do that to you. I didn’t want to exploit your pain for my gain.’

‘You could have been offered that dream job at a big national.’

Steph shrugged. ‘Turns out I don’t really want that anyway. I’m going to focus on my photography. That’s what makes me happy.’

‘Sometimes it takes more than things to make someone happy.’

‘True. You never answered my question,’ said Steph, looking up at him. ‘What are you going to do now?’

‘I’m going back to France,’ he said, and then somewhat unexpectedly, ‘Come with me?’

It was said so simply, as if he were asking her if she wanted to go for a walk or a drink at the pub. She looked at him as a seismic swirl of emotions sped through her – amazement, temptation, realisation and finally disappointment. ‘I can’t. How can I? How can we even contemplate it when our lives are so intricately entwined for all the wrong reasons?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘In my world, it would be just you and me.’

‘But in the real world … God, I want to say yes but I … I don’t know, Harry.’