Becky helped lower me into a chair. ‘Right. We’re all packed up. Taxi should be here in about half an hour. I’ll leave you two to talk.’ She bent down to envelop me in a hug, her face pressed against my now not-quite-so-terrible hair. ‘I’ll speak to you soon. Don’t worry about the retreats, I’ll keep things going until you’re ready.’

I nodded, meekly, not having the strength to argue. She turned to Daniel. ‘You’ll make her a drink and something to eat before she goes?’

Daniel gave one sharp nod, before Becky gave me a squeeze goodbye and left us to it.

For a long moment, the silence hung between us, dripping with unspoken questions and the unwelcome answers. Eventually, Daniel flicked the kettle on, fetching two mugs from the dresser. I felt another flicker of hope when I saw he’d used my favourite mug.

‘I don’t really know where to start,’ I said, voice trembling.

‘You don’t need to say anything. The internet told me plenty. Brenda filled me in on the rest.’

‘I was going to tell you,’ I gabbled. ‘Yesterday. After Damson Day.’

‘Tell me what?’ he asked, placing my drink on the table. ‘That you’ve been concealing from me who you really are? That you weren’t an honest, hardworking, uplifting food critic, but one who got famous through being vile? Or that you knew a potentially violent stalker was here, on my farm, where me, my daughter and hundreds of innocent people were gathered, and you didn’t even tell me, let alone call the police, because you were afraid that we might all find out that you’re not a nice person?’

‘Tell you that I’d worked as Nora Sharp, and why I did it, and why I left, and how I hadn’t told you because I hated who Nora had become, which was largely out of my control and not what I wanted. I loathed myself, and the only way I could bear to keep on existing was to stop being her, and go back to being the person I really am. If I’d told you, you’d not have let me stay. You’d not have given me time to show you that I’m not her. If you read her actual reviews, you’ll see they’re mostly constructive, positive ones.’

Daniel shook his head, scoffing in disgust.

‘You must know that if I genuinely thought staying here would have put you, or anyone else – let alone Hope – in danger, I would have left. I’d told Brenda everything, and she didn’t think there was anything to worry about. We thought we knew who it was, and the police were tracing them. I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry. If I could undo any of it, I would. I was scared, and lost, and alone. Then you gave me a bed, and a place to stay… A home. You gave me a second chance, a new start. I didn’t want to blow it.’

‘But you have blown it.’ Daniel blew out an exasperated sigh. ‘I feel like a total fool. I trusted you, with everything that means anything to me. My farm. My child… my heart. And you took that trust and smashed it to smithereens. You’re not who I thought you were.’