‘There will be no transition. We are not taking any money, nor are we taking the Mendoza name. We are Quincys. The best thing I ever did for my family was to leave all this behind.’

‘The best thing? Forgive me, señora, but I have seen firsthand the cracks in the walls, the broken-down washing machine . . . I have seen how your granddaughter works double shifts and two jobs to pay the bills each month. Can you really say that’s better? Was it really worth it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Leaving your home? Your family?’ she pushed.

‘Yes.’

‘So if you’d known then what you know now, you would still do it all again?’

She hesitated. ‘. . . I will not deny mine has been the harder path. It has been a burden on my own family, living with less.’ Her gaze met Charlotte’s. ‘And many would say I am mad. You will. What did I give all this up for when the time I had with my husband was cruelly short? We had four days together and that was it. Four days in ninety-eight years . . .’

Her eyes swam with bitter tears and Charlotte felt her own heart stiffen at the sight of her still raw grief. ‘But though they were only four, they were the days that defined my entire life. They were the days that explained my life: I was born to have his child, and I was spared to raise his child. There’s never been anyone else for me.’ When she looked back at Charlotte, her grey-green eyes were as clear as onyx. ‘So when you ask me if I would do it again? Yes, in this life, and the next, and however many others might follow. I would always choose him.’

I would always choose him. What about when there wasn’t a choice? Charlotte wondered. What about when he was married to someone else? A father?

One of the carers knocked on the door. ‘Excuse me, señora, your granddaughter wishes you to rest now.’

Señora Quincy looked over at him and gave a nod. She did look weary. The medic wheeled a wheelchair into the room and carefully lifted her frail body off the bed. The old lady’s eyes never left hers and Charlotte marvelled that though the flesh was weak, the spirit was still so strong.

‘Please just consider this one thing, señora,’ she said, as the carer turned to wheel her away. ‘You’ve got full disclosure on this situation. You know why you abandoned this life and chose another, harder path. Marina doesn’t. She loves you but you also love her and maybe what was right for you all those years ago isn’t right for her now. For your granddaughter’s sake, at least tell her everything and allow her to decide for herself.’

There was no response.

‘I will take Señora Quincy back to her room now,’ the carer said, when his patient didn’t reply. ‘She must rest. Señor Mendoza is returning home tomorrow.’