The sky has darkened and Margot glances anxiously out the window. ‘I’d better get the horses in. It looks like it’s going to be another bad night.’ Then she sighs heavily. ‘I’m sorry about Adam. Underneath all that … brusqueness, he’s a nice guy. He’s a good husband and father.’

I’m not sure I believe that. He seems threatening and aggressive to me but I don’t say so. Instead I try to look understanding. ‘It’s a stressful time for you all.’

To my horror, Margot’s face crumples and she pulls out a tissue from the sleeve of her jumper. ‘I can’t lose Heather as well,’ she says, tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘I don’t know how I’d bear it.’

‘Oh, Margot.’ I get up and, without even thinking about it, I put my arms around her. She still smells exactly as she used to all those years ago. Yardley perfume mixed with saddle leather. I breathe her in, remembering a time when I was still only twelve and on my first sleepover with Heather. I’d woken up, sweating and agitated, after a dream about my dad. I’d been upset, the divorce still too fresh, and I missed Dad, who had disappeared back to his job on the oil rigs, never bothering to keep in touch. Margot must have heard my crying because she’d come into the bedroom wearing a purple dressing-gown and she’d hugged me, my face nuzzled against the soft velour. I’d felt safe in her warm arms and reassured. I’d instantly calmed down and fallen back to sleep. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say to her now, the irony not lost on me that I’m the one comforting her. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

As I drive along Tilby’s high street a deep sadness descends upon me. The pavements are sleek with rain but I can almost see Heather and Flora hunched together, laughing. Once on our walk home – when I was finally allowed into their inner sanctum – we could hardly put one foot in front of the other as we doubled up with laughter after a car drove past, dousing us with rainwater so that our skirts were drenched. I remember running through the fields to their house, the mud splashing up our legs and over our white socks, then drying off with old towels in our favourite barn – the one where Heather was found at death’s door.