Merrin stared lovingly at Bella as she undid her blouse and helped little Glynn latch on. It was no wonder her baby boy was growing so fast with his constant desire to feed. Merrin was so proud of her best friend; she seemed a natural at this mothering lark, and was coping well with the fact she was doing it alone. But as Ruby had said on Skype when he was born, ‘They say it takes a whole village to raise a child and, in my opinion, there ain’t no better village than Port Charles.’

The memory of the words touched Merrin as she now stared at the crumpled face of the newborn; she used to think the same and had planned on it for the kids she and Digby would have, picturing them making the beach their playground as they ran across the sand barefoot.

Horatio? You have got to be kidding me! She had laughed at the suggested name. It had felt so close she could almost touch it: motherhood and all that came with it. She realised that not having kids would be the consequence of her aversion to a lifelong commitment and she was, most days, fine with that.

‘Whose heap of junk is that parked outside?’ Ruby yelled. Her tone was jovial and it broke the ice under which Merrin had been sitting, holding her breath.

‘Don’t let her hear you, she has feelings, does that Vera Wilma Brown!’ She hesitated for a beat, then turned and ran to her sister, holding her close and hoping it spoke of love and reconnection.

‘My big sister is getting hitched,’ she whispered.

‘She sure is,’ Ruby replied. ‘Wouldn’t have done it without you here, Merry.’

Merrin closed her eyes. This meant the world. She felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

‘Flippin’ ’eck!’ Heather put her hands on her hips. ‘You two being nice to each other? Hugging each other? What’s going on here?’

The two girls sprang apart.

‘And if you think you can come back and take my side of the room as well as your own, you’ve got another think coming,’ Ruby said. ‘I might have left home, but I’m not moving my old shit off the shelves for no one!’

‘Aaaand normal service is resumed,’ Heather clucked.

‘You look really well, Rubes. Happy.’ Merry threw the verbal olive branch towards her sister as they sat at the table.

‘I am. It’s good to see you, Miss Shorty-hair. It suits you.’

‘It’s good to see you too.’ Merrin stared at her sister’s luscious locks, feeling the echo of her mother’s words and more than a pang of regret at having taken the nail scissors and hacked off her mane.