She shook her head. ‘I thought that with the photos, maybe something would come back to me but nothing worthwhile has.’

Lottie touched her arm. ‘What brought you in here?’ She cast a quick glance at the file again, hoping her mother hadn’t noticed it. If she saw the diary and the marriage certificate, she would explode.

She laughed. ‘I suddenly recalled having a hiding place.’

‘You remembered that?’ Lottie swallowed.

‘Well, I didn’t know if it was a memory or a dream.’

‘Did you find it?’ This had been Lottie’s room her whole life. She’d never found a secret hiding space.

‘I didn’t look in the end because I saw this on the floor.’

‘Oh.’ Lottie stood. ‘Shall we have a look?’

‘I just want to go to her and yell.’ She shuddered.

‘I get that but . . .’

‘I know.’ She put the box down. ‘If I haven’t dreamt it, there is a loose floorboard under the bed.’

Lottie stretched out flat. The floorboards showed no signs of anything. One by one she tapped and pressed them, but nothing moved. Dusting herself down, Lottie said, ‘Unless it’s been repaired, I think you must have dreamt it.’

‘I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t at the moment.’ Her mother’s shoulders sank.

‘You never spoke about this before.’

She shrugged. ‘What’s there to say? You move on but being here . . .’ She picked up the book and headed to the door.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To talk to my mother again and find out why she lied to me.’

‘Mum, she’s delirious half the time.’ Lottie heard the plea in her voice.

‘It’s the other half of that time I need.’

‘Be gentle.’

‘I haven’t got time to be gentle.’ She left, and Lottie debated whether to follow. Gramps was there so he could defend Gran. But it didn’t make sense that Gran would lie about meeting Gramps. What purpose would that serve?

Pacing the room, she had to do something, anything, to make things better – even if it was just providing tea. She felt so useless. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the tall-case clock chimed. It was ten thirty. It was a bit early for coffee, but it was close enough to Gramps’ routine.

Lottie carried the tray outside half expecting to hear shouting, but silence greeted her as she walked up to them. Her mother looked mutinous and Gramps resigned. Gran’s torturous breathing was the only sound other than the roar of the sea below.

The gentle thud of the tray making contact with the table broke the standoff.

‘Coffee?’ Lottie forced a smile and looked from her mother to Gramps.

‘My darling girl, how lovely, yes.’