‘But you listen to me, girl, I’ll tell you what I’ve told everyone I’ve seen: you are only young and there’s plenty of time to find someone who will take you on. Didn’t I say that, Walt?’ She nudged her husband, who again nodded his confirmation. ‘People will stop talking about it in time.’

People are talking? Of course they are! They all are! Merrin felt her face colour at the confirmation of her worst nightmare.

‘And then you can get back on the horse!’ Mrs Everit exclaimed. ‘Don’t you worry, Merrin, someone will want you!’

‘I . . .’ Words of goodbye failed her.

‘Merrin! Merrin!’ She heard the voice calling behind her and turned to see the Reverend Pimm, who, in his jeans and shirt, took a second longer for her to place than was comfortable. He signalled from the pavement in front of the pub and beckoned to her.

‘We’ll no doubt see you very soon, dear,’ Mrs Everit said with her head cocked to one side and a half-smile of pity on her mouth. It made Merrin feel worthless, like a thing to be comforted, and she hated it.

The vicar jogged up over the stones and along the slipway. Pulling the sleeves of her t-shirt over her shaky hands, she walked down to meet him.

‘Sit! Before you fall; you’re very pale.’ He patted the wide, low wall and she did as he instructed. ‘I thought you looked like you might need rescuing.’ He pulled a comic face and she raised the smallest hint of a smile.

‘Mrs Everit means well.’ She had known the woman with her unfiltered observations and warm heart all of her life.

‘No doubt.’ He took the spot next to her and rested his foot on an old lobster pot. ‘Stupid question, I know, but how are you feeling?’

She coughed to clear her throat, but even so her voice was still little more than a rasp. ‘I don’t know really. Like I’m falling . . .’

‘I bet.’ He took his time. ‘It might feel like the end of the world, but it isn’t. I see people all the time who are torn with grief and they can’t imagine a day when they’ll be glad to see the dawn, but that day comes. It’s a surprise to them, always, but not to me because I see it often. It’ll be the same for you, Merry. I’m sure of it.’

‘I hope so. I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know what happens . . .’ She stared at the water and tried to sort through her jumble of thoughts. ‘I feel . . .’ Again the right words were not readily forthcoming. ‘Like I’ve run into a wall and I am in pieces and I don’t know how I’ll get put back together.’