I lay in bed the next morning while the sun crept over the horizon, filling the room with light and making the dust motes dance as I mulled everything over. Not only had I missed the signs that my parents’ marriage had hit the rocks, I’d also been rating snogs out of ten on the memory of a kiss that turned out to be unworthy of the pedestal I had placed it on. I was beginning to think that nothing from my past bore any resemblance to the fantasies I had spun around them.

Visions of Dad, Mum, the diary, my job, my first kiss, Sam, Hope, Joe and me, swam in front of me, making me feel dizzy, nauseous and more unsettled than I had been when I first arrived. I needed to get out and clear my head.

‘Well, don’t you look a sight,’ said Sophie when I walked into the café a short while later, hoisted myself up onto a stool and took off my sunglasses.

I winced as my eyes adjusted to the sharp change in light level.

‘Good night, was it?’ she questioned. ‘I’m guessing you were out partying somewhere.’

‘It’s not a hangover,’ I told her. ‘I didn’t drink because I was driving and I wasn’t all that late to bed either.’

‘You aren’t ill, are you?’ she demanded, scrutinizing me more intently, a concerned frown creasing her brow.

I shook my head, feeling touched that she cared.

‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m not ill.’

‘So, what’s with the bags?’ she asked, her hands planted on her hips. ‘Couldn’t you sleep?’

‘No,’ I said, putting my glasses back on. ‘I hardly got a wink.’

When I had left the cottage, I hadn’t planned to come down to the café. I had been heading for the pub and one of Sam’s legendary sausage baguettes. I might have still been feeling a bit strange about seeing him for the first time since Joe had told me about the crash, not that I had really had any reason to, but I was in need of a hefty carb and protein packed hit. However, my cravings were destined to remain unsatisfied because the pub was shut.

‘Here,’ said Sophie, setting down a mug and reaching for the coffee pot. ‘This isn’t too strong, but it might perk you up a bit.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, inhaling deeply as I wrapped my hands around the mug as she poured. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got the makings of a sausage sandwich on the premises, have you?’

‘No,’ she said, ‘but I can manage a bacon bap.’

‘That’ll do,’ I smiled, ‘thanks, Sophie. What’s happening at the pub? The board says it won’t be open today or tomorrow.’