‘I can’t,’ she replied. ‘I’m too involved with the election which is only days away, and there’s a lot of clearing up to do at school. Besides,’ she added, realising they were flimsy excuses, ‘Martin isn’t fit enough to make that long journey, and it would be a complete nightmare if the children play up and he loses his patience.’

George regarded her evenly. ‘Belinda and I can manage the school, and even at this late date, I’m sure there are plenty of people to take your place at the polling station and the count. Martin’s quite well enough to walk for miles over rough country, and if he knows that his wingman is waiting for him at the end of the journey, he’ll stay calm.’ His steady gaze bored into her. ‘Why the excuses, Anne? What are you afraid of?’

‘They are excuses,’ she conceded, ‘but I’m not afraid of anything.’ This was a lie: she knew deep down that she was dreading having to cope with Martin and his moods on her own. And yet there was a very valid reason for not returning to Cliffehaven, and she couldn’t think why she hadn’t mentioned it.

‘The fact is, our cottage is rented out until the end of August so we’d have to move in with Mum at the boarding house. There are three lodgers still living at Beach View along with Grandma Cordelia and little Daisy, so it’s already a bit of a squash. Now Mum’s told me there’s been some sort of trouble in the family, and she’s asked my cousin Brendon and his wife to move in with their baby, so the crush would be even worse.’

She returned George’s steady gaze. ‘Although Mum would welcome us with open arms, Martin simply wouldn’t be able to cope with the noise of four small children in the house, let alone a clutch of strangers going in and out all day.’

George nodded. ‘I do see your point,’ he murmured. ‘But even so, I still think Martin would fare better in Cliffehaven than he is here.’

Anne had already come to that conclusion. She’d been so fixed on her ideas for his homecoming that she had not been prepared for its reality. The isolation and peace she’d thought would help him heal had had the opposite effect, and Martin was really struggling.

‘If we had our own home to go to, then I’d agree,’ she said. ‘I’ll try and talk it over with him tonight if he’s back from the pub and sober enough for a proper conversation. But I really don’t think it’s wise to take him to Beach View. He’s simply not ready for it.’