‘Oh, my God!’ Ruby’s hand flew over her mouth as she took great gulps of air to fuel her sob. ‘I can’t believe it!’

‘You deserve it, Ruby. Jarv, too. It’s wonderful.’ Merrin gripped her sister’s hand.

‘Thank you, Dad!’ Ruby sobbed.

Her mum smiled at Ruby, and Merry wondered what he might have to say to her and braced herself as Heather continued.

And Merrin Mercy, my littlest. I love you, Merry. I love you to the big old moon and back again. I’ll keep this short: I’ve left you the Old Boat Shed with planning permission to turn it into a house.’

The news was shocking and thrilling all at once and she gasped. ‘Really? Oh, Dad! I can’t believe it! Mum, I . . . I don’t know what to say!’

It was Ruby’s turn to squeeze her fingers. Heather looked lovingly at her daughters, unified in joy and sorrow, then she shook the paper and recommenced reading.

When you’re ready and you’ve done enough adventuring and figuring out, come home, Merrin. Come back to Port Charles, this little place where your spirit lingers even after you’ve driven off in Vera Wilma Brown. Walk the beach barefoot in all weathers, my little wanderin’ maid, and let yourself be. Be open to what is right in front of your very eyes and let yourself be happy.

Merrin smiled through her tears. I will, my daddy, I will . . .

That’s it, my girls. Look after each other. Hold each other close. Drink tea. Sit in the sunshine. Celebrate the good. Don’t dwell on the bad. Know that you girls made me a king. A bloody king! And Rubes, don’t punch anything, ever again.

Your dad. Your husband.

Ben Kellow. X

There was a moment of weighted silence during which Heather smiled in spite of herself, ignoring the tears that pooled in her eyes, just as Merrin and her sister did the same, snuffling and laughing and shaking their heads as if still not quite able to believe what they had been gifted. Their father’s words were like a soft, gentle broom, starting to sweep away the sadness of his loss, starting to help them heal.

‘Poor old Dr Levington!’ Heather tutted, wiping her nose on her handkerchief. ‘Your dad’s right, though: we can miss him, mourn him, but we mustn’t let guilt or bickering be his legacy. Do you understand me?’

Her words were pointed and firm as she looked between her daughters. Merrin nodded and felt Ruby do likewise.