‘Did you find the tree I left for you?’ he asked. ‘I hope it helps make up for the old one. It’s not the same, I know, but it was the least I could do.’

He took off his hard hat and scratched his head. His hair, brown and curly, had been flattened by the rim. ‘I thought you’d like it,’ he said. ‘You’re like Elena. You like the same things she used to like.’

They stood there in silence, side by side. It wasn’t awkward for Marnie to be silent with Gabriel as it sometimes was with other people.

‘You know, if you ever need anything,’ Gabriel said, ‘you can call me. Or text. Whatever.’

Marnie pulled her coat tighter around her. She looked at the ground.

‘If you give me your phone,’ said Gabriel, ‘I’ll put my number in it for you.’

She gave him her phone and he took a pair of glasses out of a case in his pocket and put them on. He added his name and number to her contacts, then gave the phone back to her.

‘Would you like a lift home?’ Gabriel asked. ‘The dogs could go in the back of the van.’

She shook her head, but smiled to show that she was grateful anyway. She pointed to the dogs. Their paws were filthy. Gabriel looked as if he was about to say he didn’t mind, but held himself back. She could tell he didn’t want to push her.

They parted and Marnie walked away, back towards the town. She had a small, private smile on her lips and as she walked Alice came back to her, and walked beside her.

Marnie would have liked to tell Alice about Gabriel just as she would like, one day, to tell Gabriel about Alice. Only now wasn’t the time.

* * *

The last morning of Alice’s life hadn’t started differently from any other. It was hot, indistinguishable from the days in the weeks before. Sunlight streamed through the gap between Marnie’s bedroom curtains. She’d woken with the same disconnect she’d felt every day since her mother’s death. She opened her eyes and for a moment it seemed as if everything was normal, as it should be, and then she remembered that Denise wasn’t there.