Oh, Anna thought. There was a plan. Of course there was. One, obviously, that she’d had no part in putting together and hadn’t been consulted about. Well, Anna had a plan of her own, one that was just as important. She stood taller and pulled her coat tightly around herself. ‘Actually… Gayle?’ she called out.

Gayle turned around, her expression a mixture of bafflement and irritation.

‘Before we head off, could we just backtrack to the bungalow – the little yellow one – along the road? It’s just that Spencer and I—’

‘Maybe later,’ Gayle said, turning and continuing in the direction she’d been going, and then added over her shoulder: ‘If we’ve got time… We don’t want supper this evening to be too late, do we?’

‘Supper?’ Anna echoed.

‘Back at our house. I’ve got sandwiches and vol au vents ready. Richard sent you an email about it, remember?’

Anna’s mouth fell open, but she had nothing to say. She did remember getting an email, but to be honest, she’d just skimmed it for where and when to meet. Richard had a tendency to waffle on somewhat.

Maybe she couldn’t be cross about that, but she was more than a little irritated at being dismissed and overruled. Gayle seemed to be forgetting that this day was for all of them to remember Spencer, not just her. Anna was just trying to work out how to say that without seeming too bitchy, when what her mother had said to her on the phone came back to her. Being in control was Gayle’s way of coping. This wasn’t personal, she had to remember that.

Anna stood there for a moment, irritation and compassion warring for the upper hand inside her, then her shoulders sagged. Okay, despite being royally ticked off by Gayle’s imperious attitude, she’d hold fire for now. But make no mistake, she’d be visiting that yellow bungalow later on that afternoon, come hell or high water, and Gayle would just have to deal with it.

Anna blew out a breath that did little to calm her jagged emotions, dug her fists into her pockets, and trailed behind the tight-knit group heading up the large dune that constantly threatened to swallow up the eastern boundary of the car park.

ANNA MOVED THROUGH the next hour or so as if she was outside herself, as if she were watching a film of the proceedings and the camera had pulled back for a long shot. It was the only way she could cope. Gayle had cast herself as chief mourner, even though every single person there ached just as hard as she did. Anna was relegated to loyal sidekick, having to stand next to Gayle as she gave a speech at the family’s favourite picnic spot, as they wrote messages to Spencer on scraps of paper, then rolled them up and stuck them in a bottle, which was then buried in the sand at a location Gayle had chosen.