‘Me too.’ We head to the front door and walk the gravel path at the edge of the lawn. The bay glistens blue below us. It is another beautiful day. This is wrong. I know what we will find on the beach. I want clouds, big and threatening.

‘I don’t know what I’m going to do now.’ He pulls his jumper off and throws it on his shoulders.

I study him, looking for signs, but he doesn’t know. I breathe. ‘With your mind, maybe . . . analysis?’ I scan the horizon. Gribben Head is softened by a distant haze that will burn off in the growing sunlight.

He shook his head and says, ‘Doesn’t appeal.’

‘Boring after the excitement of the field.’

‘Something like that.’ He chuckles.

There is a light easterly breeze coming off the sea as we walk the path down to the beach and I shiver. As I release the bolt on the gate, I pray somehow that these next few minutes will be different. That last night hadn’t happened.

We step onto the walkway and the most perfect summer’s day sight meets us. The tide is almost in. The sea is bluer than the cloudless sky above, and a child and his mother are playing with a bucket and spade. I swallow.

Raising my hand, I shade my eyes and scan the sweep of beach.

Tom takes the last of the steps down onto the sand and says, ‘If he’s down here he’d be sleeping over on the rocks.’ He points to the cliffs. ‘God, I remember getting so pissed with him one night, and both of us passed out on the beach, waking only when the tide reached our feet.’ He laughs.

I force a smile wishing I was so carefree, but I can’t speak as my chest compresses. I follow him, not sure whether to rush ahead or hang behind. I’ve seen dead bodies before. I found my mother. She had died in bed and looked peaceful. But I knew what waited up ahead wouldn’t be a peaceful face. Just the thought of his handsome features smashed stops me.

‘You OK?’ Tom calls over his shoulder.

‘Yes, just a little bit hungover if I’m honest.’

He laughs. ‘Well, you were hitting it a bit harder than normal last night.’ He pauses. ‘I did mention it.’

‘I know. Very rude of you to say so.’ I grin at him. ‘I never learn.’ I shrug. I’m not hungover. I had burned through all the alcohol in my system long before I confronted Allan. Then I had cried out anything else that had been left in me.