That summer had proved that life could alter in a moment and now it was about to change again. Gran. She shifted from neutral to first and back again. The changeover traffic on a Friday in August had never been good but this was brutal. Cornwall was full of people and now that included her, except this was not a holiday. She would give anything to have this just be a visit, but she had heard the fear in Gramps’ voice.

Traffic stopped again, and the only movement was on the other side of the road. There must be an accident ahead. Today was purportedly the hottest day of the summer and she was now watching the fuel gauge on her old Fiesta bounce in and out of the red. It was like her bank account. That too was empty. The trip meter said she’d done 286 miles since she’d last filled it up. She’d lived twenty-eight years never having let her finances or her fuel tank run dry. On the passenger seat her handbag contained only five pounds, her phone and not much else. She ground her teeth trying to think of positive things, which at the moment was very difficult.

She glanced in the rear-view mirror as traffic began moving again. The car was stuffed with her worldly possessions. That was something she didn’t want to think about. She just wanted to make it to see Gran. She had to. Her last visit had been anything but good, and recent phone calls had been stilted. Lottie couldn’t have that be the last conversation. She just couldn’t.

As the car crept along at ten miles an hour, she spotted the problem: a broken-down camper-van. She tensed, waiting for the ancient engine powering her car to cough and die but it didn’t. Finally turning left, she travelled past the new housing estate, and before long she went left again to Porthpean. That first glimpse of St Austell Bay caught her unprepared even though she’d made this journey thousands of times. Stretched out below, it looked as if she could touch it, but she always forgot the sheer jaw-dropping beauty and today was no different. The bright blue sea gleamed, and Gribben Head jutted out into the bay under a clear sky. The road narrowed, descending towards the cove, and her heart lifted then it crashed. Gran.

Even before the sharp turn through the gates, she pictured Boskenna and the view. White, green and blue. House, lawn and sea. Perfect harmony. Peace. The car spluttered its way past the green wooden gate on fumes. The gate was in need of painting and she might be wrong, but it looked like it was off its hinges and wouldn’t close even if she wanted it to. This wasn’t normal, but the sun was beating down on Boskenna and the view of the bay beckoned. It never disappointed even on a grey day. Here was home in a way she never felt anywhere else ever. It was in her bones. Every school holiday until university, this was where she lived.