That was the question we asked ourselves, over and over again, in the days that followed the funeral. We hid behind closed curtains, side by side on the sofa, sheltering in the dimly lit living room as we tore ourselves apart. Had we been too hard on him? Too soft? Too judgemental? Too lenient? Mark blamed himself. It was his fault, he said. His fault for letting Billy down, for letting him see a moment of weakness instead of setting him an example. If he hadn’t cried, he kept saying, if he hadn’t tried to kiss Edie Christian, then Billy never would have done what he did. He wouldn’t have thrown a rock at Mark’s car, fought with his brother or taken his anger out on Kira. He wouldn’t have died.

Billy was his own person.

That’s what I told Mark. Our son had already made some bad decisions before he overheard the conversation in the car park, before he saw the kiss through the pub window. He’d already rebelled against us and his school. And that came from nowhere, or from hormones, or from growing up and realizing that actually the world doesn’t hand you your dreams on a plate. You need to work for your dreams and even then, sometimes they still don’t come true. That’s a hard thing to wrap your head around when you’re fifteen and you’ve been told as a child that you can be, or do, anything you want in life. The one thing Billy’s death has taught me is that happiness doesn’t always lie in the future and in any success you hope might come your way. It’s in the here and now. It’s in your children throwing their arms around your neck and pressing wet lips to your cheek. It’s in the laughter of friends. In a walk or a run or just breathing in and out. It’s in surprises, in day-to-day comforts, in a voice on the telephone, the warmth of an embrace, the soft gaze of someone who loves you. You never know how much you have, you never realize how much you’ve got to be grateful for, until it’s snatched away from you. Cherish every moment. Cherish your life and all its ups and downs. Cherish the lives of those you love. We’re only here for a short time, so much shorter than you might think.

‘Has Jake heard from Kira?’ Mark tenses ever so slightly as he says her name, unsure how I’ll react.

I shake my head. ‘Not recently. They exchanged a few texts but he found it too upsetting. He asked her not to contact him again.’

‘Right.’ Mark digs the toes of his shoes into the sand as he walks, leaving small ridges behind him as we head towards the pier. ‘Have you heard from her?’

‘Not since the card.’