I say nothing, just smile and tuck my arm back into Diana’s, ready to comb the beach with the rest of them. I’ve just found my first piece of coal, a tiny piece that probably is best left on the beach, but I am triumphant nonetheless, when my mobile buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, hoping that perhaps my mum has read my message to her and replied – it’s just gone ten o’clock in Florida now, after all – but my heart sinks as I see it is from an unknown number. My eyes flick towards Rupert, but he is too far away for me to call to him without drawing attention to myself. I swipe the screen.

Your first Christmas together. And your last.

I raise my eyes and scan the horizon, sure I can feel eyes on the back of my neck, my skin starting to prickle uncomfortably, but there is no one there, no shadowy figure watching for my reaction. There is only Rupert, and his perfect family.

Rupert perches on a footstool in front of the tree, as we all sit in the living room ready to exchange presents. Rupert’s brooch glints at my lapel in the light from the fire, the coal we collected fizzing damply on the wood beneath it, and the scent of pine and cinnamon is on the air. It should be the perfect end to a perfect day, but instead all I can think about is the message on my phone and the fear that spiked in my veins as I read it.

‘This one is yours, Mum,’ Rupert is saying, as he passes her a neatly wrapped gift in red paper. It’s the scarf I chose for her, and she is thrilled with it. I paste a smile on as she thanks me, barely even aware of what is going on. I don’t miss the shared look between Rupert and Will though as Rupert gets to his feet. ‘There’s a special present I need to go and get… hang on.’ He gives me a wink and I force that smile back onto my face.

Rupert returns a few moments later with a large cardboard box, gaudily wrapped, the top loosely closed, and hands it to me. ‘Here. This is for you, so you won’t be on your own anymore.’

I take it, setting it in my lap before I carefully lift the flaps of the box open. Inside sits a tiny tortoiseshell kitten, her face turned up to mine. She lets out a tiny meow as Amanda presses her hands to her mouth.

‘A kitten? Oh, Rupert, you got her a kitten!’ she cries, rushing to sit beside me as I look up at Rupert, shock etched onto my face.