Merrin walked the cobbles and let the cold air of early evening sharpen her thoughts. The moon was full and the sea calm. The sounds of celebration and remembrance and hoots of laughter drifted from the back room of the pub, where Ben’s wake was still in full swing for those who had decided to make a night of it. And for the briefest moment in the foggy confusion of grief, she pictured her dad inside, propping up the bar and laughing at whatever merriment was occurring, before the hard lance of realisation made him fade from the picture. The irony was he would have loved today: the singing, the beer, being the centre of attention . . .

At the edge of the coastal path where the steps veered to the left, she began her descent to the beach, treading them with caution as she looked out over the darkening landscape. About halfway down the steps, she sat, running her hand through the air, and reaching back to feel the sandy soil, trod by those whose bloodline she shared.

Home . . .

She drew breath and spoke aloud. ‘It’s not been my home for a long time now, and yet part of me lives here, always will.’

Her eyes swept over the cove where fragments of her heart and every memory of her beloved dad were lodged in the rocks along the shoreline, the bark of the full and ancient trees that stood proudly on the clifftops, and where his laughter would carry as faint whispers on the summer breeze. She could see him now on the deck of the Sally-Mae with his head thrown back and eyes closed, laughing loudly in abandon.

‘I wish I could have one more day, Dad. Just one more to tell you that I love you, and that I hope Ruby was speaking in grief and frustration, because the thought of letting you down—’ She gulped the sob that built in her chest. ‘I want the life you had, Dad: solid, happy, and even one filled with love.’ She closed her eyes and thought about Miguel. Her thoughts flew to the night of her engagement to Digby and her dad’s words: ‘I wish . . . I wish for you both a long and happy marriage like the one we share. Cos I know that without Heather by my side there’s no point. She’s everythin’. My good mate, my great love and all my happiness.’ Her mum’s eyes had misted as she wiped her face with a tea towel. That was what Merrin had hoped for. But maybe it was unrealistic; maybe making Miguel happy, even though her feelings were a little muted, would be enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR JARVIS

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JARVIS