I wish that I could text or call someone, but even if we had reception or a landline, I realise that I don’t have anyone to contact. A wave of sadness washes over me. I’d normally have rung my mum in a situation like this, and failing that, I used to have a couple of friends I could call on if I ever needed a shoulder: Sonia, who was another assistant at the vet’s, and Claire, who I went to primary school with, though she moved to Leeds for university and still lives there, and we haven’t seen each other in ages.

Sonia sent flowers for my mum’s funeral and Claire sent a sweet card and both called a few times in the months after she died, but I never picked up the phone. I didn’t feel able to talk to them. I wonder how I could ever get back in touch now; it feels as if too much time has passed, and they might not understand why I didn’t return their calls. I’m not sure I can explain to them either, not when I can’t fully explain it to myself. It was just too impossible.

I just feel so ashamed of who I’ve become: this shadow of my former self; and I’m also a little embarrassed that I never told them about the wedding. I kept it a secret because I didn’t want people to feel offended that I hadn’t invited them. I’d planned to post something on Facebook after we got back from our Greek honeymoon, but then my mum died, and I didn’t feel like blasting social media with pictures of the wedding. I could barely get out of bed, let alone log onto a computer. But perhaps when I get off this island, I’ll call Claire and Sonia and find a way to get those friendships back on track. Everything that’s happening is making me realise how important it is not to let myself get isolated.

I sit on the sofa and play with my engagement ring, spinning it around and around my finger – it’s a big diamond and the band is loose on me now. I force myself to stop. I need to keep busy and distract myself, otherwise it feels like all we are doing is waiting for the next thing to happen, and I can’t bear the tension of it. I feel like a soldier in a trench, awaiting the dawn whistle.