‘I know you film wildlife,’ she said, ‘but fancy a commission filming humans?’ She needed someone to document the work of her foundation, Artists Without Boundaries. It was ideal, six weeks in Iceland over the summer holidays. A free holiday for Lumin and a chance to immerse herself in a different culture. We loved it, and in the process I found myself with another job, documenting the arrival and care of a polar bear who had arrived on an ice floe. And then I resumed my plans to film wildlife in abandoned buildings throughout Iceland, a major UK production company buying into the idea.

One day, we visited the barn where Dylan had based himself in Iceland.

‘I want to stay,’ Lumin had said. ‘I can feel Daddy here.’ So that was it, we did. We had no ties to the UK any more, after all. It was time to focus on each other, and what we needed to do to be happy again. Iceland was the answer. With Asher and Hekla’s help, we turned the barn into a home, just as Dylan had dreamed of doing, his wooden sculptures lining the windowsills.

Lumin was right, I could feel him there too.

‘You’ll be fine without me, won’t you?’ Lumin asked, concern etched on her pretty face. ‘I mean, I know you have Asher and Hekla. But you won’t get too lonely, will you?’

I laughed. ‘Don’t worry about your old mum! You’re always out and about with your friends anyway. It’s not like I’m not used to being alone most of the time. And that’s fine,’ I added as I saw her face drop. ‘I don’t get lonely. Alone, but not lonely.’

Hadn’t I said that once before to her father? Truth was, I did get lonely. The family life I’d dreamed of had gone with Dylan. Of course, I had a family life with Lumin. But I yearned for more than that, a whole family to love my daughter … and yes, me. I’d been without that for too long.

Lumin squeezed my hand. ‘You don’t have to be alone, Mum. You could try to make contact with your parents.’ She paused. ‘My grandparents.’

I shook my head. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘Then try me. I’m not a kid any more, I’m grown up enough to handle whatever it is you’ve been keeping from me about them.’

‘It’s ancient history,’ I quickly said. ‘I want to live in the here and now.’

‘But how can you live in the here and now if you haven’t got to grips with the past yet?’ She dropped her bag to the floor and crossed her arms, giving me a stubborn look. ‘I won’t go until you tell me.’

‘But your train leaves in thirty minutes!’