She was glad to finally have a moment where she didn’t need to keep bravely smiling and nodding as people gave their sympathies. Since coming home, she hadn’t fallen apart again, and she had kept her composure through the hardest parts of the funeral arrangements and service. Her father, though, had showed surprising emotion (for him) when she arrived, and not for the first time she worried about how he would realistically cope once all of this was over and normal life, as such, resumed. She’d spoken a little to him about what had happened that first night of her arrival, when Penny had returned home to her little cottage in the town.

‘I hate to ask, but what exactly happened?’ she’d ventured. ‘Mum was in good health – or so I thought. A heart attack seems a bit out of the blue.’

As always, Ned averted his eyes from his daughter’s gaze. ‘She was healthy enough as far as I know. There were little things of course. There always are as you get older. Just part of life.’

Elle narrowed her eyes as her father stopped talking. ‘I’m sensing a but . . .’

‘Well, yes. Your mother was dealing with some . . . anxiety.’

‘Anxiety?’ Elle frowned. She couldn’t imagine Anna as an anxious, stressed person. These things were more Penny’s domain. ‘About what? What was she stressed about? Anxious about?’

‘There were some money problems,’ Ned said frankly without elaborating.

‘With the hotel?’ Elle hated to sound like she was pressing, but that was the way you had to be with Ned, and she needed some answers. And it seemed as if the state of the property was the big elephant in the room since her return. She’d noticed some things on arrival about the interior, over and above the usual wear and tear. The reception area was looking very tired – the wooden floors hadn’t been polished in ages and really needed to be refinished, the moulding around the door frames was cracked in places, and the staircase leading to the second floor was sagging.

She’d noticed in particular the tea rooms, a once beautiful space that Elle and Penny had spent so much time in as children, having tea parties and acting out scenes from Anne of Green Gables – Penny had been Diana to her Anne of course. Now, the pale mint wallpaper was peeling from the walls, the fireplace lay dark and dusty, and all of the furniture looked worn and tatty. It was no longer the cosy inviting space that Elle had once known.

Ned shrugged; it was neither a yes nor a no. Elle could feel her frustration building. As an architect, she liked it when she had all of the information she needed in order to form an opinion, or a design strategy. She hated it when clients were evasive, especially when she was looking to help them and keep their best interests at heart.