She swallowed hard against the threat of tears, and then found herself thinking about Robert MacKenzie. How could anyone expect him to simply move on from his wife, whom he had loved so completely, however many years it had been since her passing? She couldn’t even let her father go easily. Anna herself knew so well, now, the hopeless ebb and flow of grief – the inevitable, inescapable undertow that carried one helplessly from anguish to guilt, from the temporary buoyancy of memory to the flat exhaustion of absolute depression, all in the space of minutes and often in the middle of something entirely unrelated.

‘Are you all right?’ Pat asked, apparently picking up on Anna’s change in mood.

Anna forced herself to shake off the sudden flood of grief. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much for your help, Pat, you’ve been wonderful. I think I’ll be fine on my own now, if you want to get back?’

Pat took off her apron and pulled Anna into a warm hug. ‘Try to enjoy yourself, love,’ she said. ‘This is what you do! You’re so good at it. I know whoever you end up serving today will love your food as much as we all do. Pop over later and tell us all about it,’ her friend added, giving her a final squeeze. ‘I’ve put a bottle of bubbly in to chill for the occasion.’

Once Pat had gone, Anna threw herself into the work, the hours slipping by in deep concentration. She’d chosen a risotto for the main course and was checking the seasoning when there was a knock at the door. Anna glanced up at the clock, which told her it was almost one o’clock.

Anna went to open the door and found a young couple in their twenties standing on the step.

‘Hi,’ she said, smiling. ‘Are you here for lunch?’

They both smiled and indicated the poster. ‘Yes! We were hoping to be, anyway,’ said the man. ‘It says first come, first served – does that mean we’re still in time?’

Anna ignored the sudden fizz of nerves. ‘It does! You’re my first guests.’

‘Wonderful,’ said the woman. ‘I know we’re early, but can we sit down now?’

‘Of course you can,’ Anna said. ‘I won’t be ready to serve for another quarter of an hour, but if you take a seat, I’ll bring you some drinks. I can’t serve alcohol, but—’

‘Water would be fine. Thanks!’

She left the door open as they headed for the garden, and was filling a jug with water for her guests when another much younger and very excited voice called to her from the step.

‘Anna!’ called the voice. ‘Anna, Anna, Anna! Guess what?’

Young Robbie MacKenzie was standing in the doorway, clutching his Dolphin Patrol exercise book in both hands and looking as if he were about to explode.

‘Robbie! What are you doing here?’