Marnie stepped forward. The old woman reached for Marnie’s hand and enclosed it between hers, reversing their roles the last time they met. Her skin was cool and dry. Marnie remembered this woman’s myriad kindnesses to her as a child and felt a strong affection. She smiled warmly. Her lips made the shape of the word: ‘Hello.’

‘It’s difficult for me, Marnie,’ Camille said. ‘The thoughts come and go, and I have trouble holding onto them.’

‘We don’t have long,’ said the nurse. ‘Your husband will be back soon.’

‘The three of you were so alike. You, Denise, Alice. I get muddled.’

Zoe moved to the window, pulled back the curtain, looked out.

The old woman’s lips moved but no words emerged. She was struggling to form a sentence and Marnie, who had struggled too, understood how she felt and was full of sympathy.

‘Be quick, Camille,’ said Zoe.

Mrs deVillars tried, but it seemed an age before she managed to speak.

‘I’m sorry, Marnie,’ she said. ‘I only understood these last few days. Before then it was all a puzzle.’ She hesitated. ‘I’ll go back to the beginning…’

Zoe exhaled in frustration.

‘I was walking by the estuary one day,’ said Camille. ‘I used to love it down there. All that water. I used to think of my father on his ships and…’ Marnie urged her on with her eyes, willing her to get to the point. ‘… and I saw Denise sitting on the slipway, looking out to sea.’ She glanced at Marnie. ‘Your mother. She was Denise, wasn’t she?’

Marnie nodded, and Mrs deVillars continued. ‘She was sitting there and I thought I’d never seen anyone look so sad. I didn’t know her well. She didn’t often come over to the park and I thought, well, she’s a private person, I don’t want to intrude, but that day… oh, she looked so unhappy. So I sat down next to her and asked her what was wrong and she said her situation was impossible. “What situation?” I asked and she said: “I can’t tell you, Mrs deVillars. I can’t say.” “Is it to do with your husband?” I asked. “Is he being unfaithful? Is he drinking too much?” “Oh, no,” she said, “no, it’s nothing like that. John is a good man.” She wouldn’t tell me what it was that was bothering her. I said we should go and get a cup of tea and we walked back together. We talked about you, Marnie. She told me how proud she was of you. And she said something odd. She said she’d made a mistake a long time ago and that she was paying for it now.’

Marnie could see the two women in her mind’s eye so clearly that she wondered if she might have seen them together, that day, if the memory was locked away somewhere inside her too.