As soon as Grace had left after breakfast on Sunday, Finch had contacted a psychotherapist he knew – the wife of an old army mate – and asked her if she had any recommendations in the Manchester area. He was waiting to hear back. Grace had assured Finch, when they’d said goodbye, that she was fine and that she would investigate professional help. But he had reservations on both counts. Her demeanour was too bright, too falsely compliant. He knew he would have to keep a pretty close eye on her, but it was so hard to do, when she was all the way up in Manchester. And this was making him think.

On his evening run around the harbour – avoiding the end where Romy’s cottage stood, although he was sure she would be with that degenerate husband of hers on a Sunday night – an idea began to form. It had first crossed his mind on the plane coming home from Argentina, when he had sat, cramped in his seat – the rest of the cabin asleep – thinking how little there was keeping him in the village any more.

His time away had made it clear to him that he didn’t want to go back to his old life of fundraising marathons and Jenny’s coffee mornings – in fact, he hadn’t contacted Jenny since he’d got back. He knew she would want to come round and see him immediately and he wasn’t in the mood to have her clucking at him, to have his life taken over again. And as the dawn shone rosily across the billowing white floor of clouds outside the plane window, Finch had come to the unexpected realization that he wasn’t, in fact, tied to his current lifestyle. He could change things.

Why can’t I move up to Grace’s neck of the woods? he asked himself now, as he jogged steadily past a couple walking their retriever in the brisk September dusk. Find a little place in the Peak District – near her and Sam, but not too near – so I can keep an eye, be more involved in their lives.

The idea really appealed. He wouldn’t be burning his bridges. He could rent out his house, get somewhere for a year and see if it suited them all. His only real tie to this village had been Nell and, for a while, Romy. And both were gone from his life. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his days keeping his eyes peeled every time he left his house, terrified of bumping into Romy and experiencing that thumping heartbreak all over again. By the time he reached home, he was buzzing.