‘So you went sailing round the world instead.’ It was as though he was putting together a picture in his mind, arranging her life story to a sense of order. Good luck with that . . .

‘There’s no greater escape,’ Mats said, nodding. ‘I reckon I’d have done the same.’

Bell smiled at him, grateful for the affinity, and he winked back.

‘So then, the question is – we know how you got to Sweden, but how exactly did you end up here, on a shabby boat like this with us reprobates?’ Mats joked. Still, he shot an enquiring glance in the direction of his boss in case he took umbrage at either ‘shabby’ or ‘reprobates’. Emil’s sense of humour could be unpredictable – it didn’t always show up.

‘I met Hanna in a cafe one day after my walk. The twins were babies and she was struggling to feed them and keep this chicken amused,’ she said, ruffling Linus’s hair lovingly. He had finally finished with his exertions and was sitting beside her, picking the filling out of his baguette. ‘So I offered to help and the next thing I knew, I had a job.’

She saw Emil had stopped eating, his baguette barely touched in his hands, listening to the story of how she came to be here – on his boat, in his family’s life – the conversation an echo of the one they’d had that night on the little boat about Destiny. ‘Funny, isn’t it, how you end up in places? Never in a million years would I have predicted this.’ She motioned to their simple champagne lunch, the sleek carbon hulk of the vessel.

‘Tell me about it,’ Mats said. ‘I’m the proverbial wanderer. I don’t do more than a season anywhere.’

‘No? Where’s next for you?’

‘New Zealand. I’m part of the team for the America’s Cup next Spring.’

‘Oh wow! That’s incredible.’

‘Yep. Living the dream. I’m leaving in a few weeks, actually. Sailing myself down to Auckland to start getting things in order.’ He looked at her. ‘Are you going to stay in Sweden, do you reckon?’

Bell patted Linus on the head. ‘Well, certainly until this one becomes a teenager and refuses to sit on the naughty step any more,’ she joked. At least, she had intended it as such, but the words tapped a wellspring of deep emotion she hadn’t known was there. Talking about this wasn’t in the least bit funny.

‘And when you’ve outlived your usefulness? Go travelling again?’

‘Yeah, maybe,’ she shrugged lackadaisically, trying not to acknowledge the sense of panic that idea stoked in her. The thought of leaving her life here – her friends, her little apartment, the Mogerts, Linus especially . . . He blinked back at her, his green eyes deep and soulful, so like his father’s.

It was impossible to imagine it, not having him or any of them in her life any more. It was true, she hadn’t envisaged this version she was living without Jack; but she had found perfect strangers and moulded them into a family of her own. They were all she had. They were all she was. They were her life now.