‘I honestly didn’t hit my head,’ I said again. ‘I didn’t lose consciousness, did I? I can easily clean these scratches myself and wrap a bag of frozen peas around my ankle.’

‘No,’ he resignedly said. ‘You can’t. But I can.’

While he fetched the first aid kit from the utility room, I wriggled out of my jeans and covered my legs with the throw from the sofa. It would have been pointless to clean my scraped knees and then pull the soiled fabric over them. I was able to put a little weight on my ankle, but not much.

‘This might sting a bit,’ said Ned, as he tenderly dabbed at the graze on my cheek.

I rested my head back and closed my eyes.

‘You know,’ he softly said, ‘you might feel better if you finished saying what it was you started out there.’

His voice sounded close and when I opened my eyes his face was just inches from mine.

‘I don’t think so.’ I swallowed, closing my eyes again.

He was quiet, but only for a moment.

‘It’s something you’ve carried with you for years, isn’t it?’

I didn’t answer.

‘I bet it’s nowhere as terrible as you think it is.’

‘You’re wrong,’ I whispered.

‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’ he pushed.

‘All right,’ I gruffly said, pushing his hand away and hoisting myself into a more upright position. ‘How about,’ I said, looking straight at him, ‘it’s my fault that my dad died?’

My eyes filled with tears and I stared up at the ceiling, trying to force them back.

‘You weren’t the drunk driver…’

‘No,’ I cut in, ‘but I was the daughter who argued with him, before he stormed off. Had I forced him to stay he wouldn’t have been on the road, would he?’

Ned didn’t say anything.

‘So,’ I said, ‘now you know. Now you know, I’m responsible for what happened. I’m responsible for all of it.’

‘No,’ said Ned. ‘You’re not.’

‘He wasn’t even supposed to be at mine that weekend,’ I carried on, ignoring what he’d said. ‘I’d mentioned I was having a tough time at work when we talked on the phone and he just turned up.’

‘To make sure you were okay?’

‘To see if he could convince me to come home,’ I blurted out. ‘Again.’

‘Here, to Wynter’s you mean?’

‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘He never got it into his head, that I didn’t think of this place as home and when I said as much, for the umpteenth time, we argued and he left.’

‘I didn’t know he’d seen you that night,’ Ned frowned. ‘What with the crash happening so close to Wynmouth…’