He made a disbelieving noise, but Anna wasn’t letting him off with that.

‘Like most accidents, there was a multitude of moving parts, just as there was with what happened to me. A handful of circumstances came together, stupid little things that if they’d happened on their own, would have meant nothing. But they did happen together, and it created a perfect storm, for want of a better word. Would you tell me that just because one of those variables was down to me that Spencer’s death was my fault?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Then why won’t you accept the same for yourself? If there hadn’t been traffic on the motorway, you wouldn’t have been as tired. If your wife hadn’t had a migraine, then both of you would have been outside with her. You see what I mean?’

‘It’s not the same!’

Anna closed her eyes and screamed silently inside her head. Stubborn didn’t even begin to describe it. She wasn’t going to win this argument, not now, not today. ‘Okay… Even if it was your fault, even if maybe you could have stopped it happening, what does that mean? You have to punish yourself forever? What does that accomplish? How does that make anyone, even the people we’ve lost, any happier?’ Her voice grew hoarse again. ‘How does it make them any more alive?’

Brody remained silent. It seemed she might have finally hit on a nerve.

‘You’ve got to find a way to forgive yourself, Brody.’

There was a sarcastic edge to his voice when he replied. ‘You mean I’ve got to be kind to myself?’

‘Yes,’ she replied simply.

‘I can’t,’ he said, his voice stretching so tight that Anna felt her heart begin to crack.

‘Can’t or won’t?’ she prodded softly.

Brody didn’t give her a reply.

Chapter Fifty

IT WAS THE last day of November, and the moors looked magical in the early morning sunshine. Brody had woken up with the urge to go for a long, bracing walk, and instead of doing his usual route on the slopes and valleys near his cottage, he’d jumped in his Land Rover and had driven eight miles east to Haytor, a coarse granite outcrop on one of the highest points of Dartmoor. He was ready for a fresh route, a fresh challenge.

He parked the car at the Dartmoor Visitor Centre, took a moment to admire the ancient tor at the top of the hill, and set off, Lewis bounding beside him.

Brody never wore headphones or took music with him when he went for a walk or run. He preferred to keep his senses alert, to take in the environment. The silence allowed his brain to produce its own noise when he needed to think about things.

And since he’d told Anna about Lena almost a fortnight ago, he’d had a lot to think about, good and bad. He’d had a couple of nightmares right afterwards, the same as those he’d had for years after Lena had died, but they’d eased off and he hadn’t had one in more than a week now. For some strange reason that made him feel optimistic.