‘There’s more to life than work you know,’ she carried on, squeezing my hand. ‘Not that I would ever let your father hear me say that of course.’

We exchanged a conspiratorial smile and she began to gather her things together.

‘I’ll pop back again tomorrow,’ she said, heading for the door. ‘You make you sure you get plenty of rest. It sounds to me like everything’s under control.’

Worryingly, it sounded like that to me too.

*

Having finally slept, after managing some more of the wonderful soup Joan had left, I was feeling much better the next morning. Not quite well enough to drive myself to work, but certainly less inclined to fall over whenever I stood up. However, rather than push my luck and book a taxi and risk a relapse I uncharacteristically decided to have another day at home. Joan’s words, coupled with my stirred-up memories of what my life used to be like, along with what had happened to Mum, had got me thinking, and I had surprised myself by coming to the hasty conclusion that, no matter what anyone said, I was definitely going to take a proper break.

I didn’t want to let Dad or the business down, but this latest dose of dizziness had forced my hand somewhat and I had finally realized that if I didn’t want either my mental or physical health to suffer further then I was going to have to properly rethink my priorities and strike a better work/ life balance. I couldn’t just keep thinking about it, conning myself into believing that would be enough, I needed to get on and make it happen. But not in Crow’s Nest Cottage . . .

Thank you for your further enquiry. Crow’s Nest Cottage will not be available from the end of May as it is being withdrawn from the holiday rental market. Should you still wish to stay in the area, do let me know and I will recommend other accommodation, further along the coast.

As sad as it was, that was the end of that, because if I couldn’t stay in the cottage, I would rather not revisit Wynmouth at all. Determined not to have my resolve to take a break thwarted, however, I decided I would jet off to somewhere far-flung and exotic instead.

‘How are you feeling?’ asked Joan, when she arrived with yet more edible treats and a bunch of yellow roses cut fresh from the garden.

‘Better,’ I said, ‘almost one hundred per cent.’

She didn’t look convinced, but I meant it, even if I did still look a bit peaky. Even just making the decision to get away had done me no end of good.

‘There now,’ she said, once she had finished stocking the fridge. ‘That looks more like it.’