‘Yes, I did say that.’ Heather raised her gaze. ‘And I meant it. But I should have also said that love is no more than a glimpse of a heart in time. It’s a moment captured when the words that leave your lips, the thoughts in your head and the desire in your body are in sync. It causes a rush of good feeling high enough to reach the sky. But sometimes, you can glimpse that same heart a month on, one decade on, one lifetime on, and you see something very different.’ She took a deep breath. ‘For some people the strength of feeling is the same: a tower standing strong and true.’ She smiled at her husband and Merrin knew she spoke for herself. ‘But for others it might have shrunk a little and for some it has plummeted and lies on the ocean floor, shrivelled to nothing, waiting for the tide to wrap it in its watery arms and carry it far away from memory.’

‘Only hours ago I would have sworn that would never have happened to Digby and me, Mum. He said he loved me with a madness. William Shakespeare said something similar.’

‘Why would we give a rat’s arse what some old dead bloke might think? Or what bloody Digby thinks, for that matter!’ her dad harrumphed.

‘What I’m trying to say, Merry’ – her mum stood and shot her dad a withering look, doing what she did best, smothering any flame of discord before it took hold – ‘is that your life is still waiting to be lived, girl, and you have to wring every drop of joy from it! And when you do find that proper, forever kind of love, treasure it, don’t be reckless with it and never take it for granted. It will come to you, I’m sure of it.’

Her mother’s words were well meant but Merrin could not see herself ever loving again. Not ever.

‘Anyway, enough words about love, Merrin.’ Heather sat forward and twisted the fabric of her nightdress in her hands. ‘Did you see him?’

‘I did.’ Merrin felt the strength leave her legs and sank down on to the rug in a heap. ‘Oh, Mum! I hear what you say about love, but how can I have got it so wrong? How can it be that he doesn’t love me? Doesn’t want me? I don’t understand! I know it’s true, but I can’t believe it’s true!’

‘Oh, little love, I wish I could take all of your hurt away.’ Her mum knelt next to her and stroked her hair while her dad paced and murmured with murderous intent.

‘Why,’ she hiccupped, ‘why did this happen to me?’

‘Because you picked the wrong boy, Merry, that’s all. It’s his loss, his bloody loss.’ Her mum spoke convincingly.

‘It hurts.’ Merrin screwed her eyes shut, finding momentary relief from the salty sting of tears.