My voice is about to give up on me. ‘Look after her,’ I say. ‘Tell her you love her every day.’

‘I will.’

Daisy takes the pink, sparkly scrunchy from her ponytail and hands it to me. ‘Take thith to remember me by, Aunty Lytha,’ she says solemnly.

I give her a big hug. ‘I will.’ I pull back my hair and slip on the scrunchy.

My mother forces herself to her feet. She takes me in her arms and holds me tightly. ‘Be careful,’ she says.

‘I hope the wedding goes well.’ I choke back my tears. ‘Get Edie to email me some photos.’

She holds me away from her and studies my face as if trying to commit it to memory. ‘I never thought you would do anything like this.’

I try to shrug lightheartedly. ‘Me neither.’

I hug her for the last time before moving towards the door. ‘Bye.’

Edie follows me and throws her arms around me again. ‘He’d better be good to you,’ she warns, ‘or he’ll have me to answer to.’

‘I’ll tell him that.’

Edie lowers her voice. ‘Did you speak to Pip yet?’

‘I’m going there on my way to the airport.’

‘Give him my love,’ Edie says.

‘No,’ I answer. ‘Save your love for your husband.’

‘Point taken.’ Edie smiles ruefully. ‘Who’s going to keep me on the straight and narrow when you’re gone?’

I pat where her bump will soon be. ‘That will keep you out of mischief for a while,’ I note. ‘Besides, I can always nag by email.’

‘Make sure that you do,’ she says and we both burst into tears again.

Chapter eighty-three

Chapter eighty-three

So much for my noble ideas of casting off my old life—despite my best efforts, most of it seems to have sneaked into my backpack, which now weighs a ton.

I get off the tube and plod my way to Pip’s house. I’m glad to see his motorbike chained to the railings outside on the pavement. Hopefully, it means he’s at home.

After knocking at the door, I wait with mounting trepidation. This is the first time Pip and I have met after Edie’s revelations, and it seems to put a different slant on our relationship. I don’t know why it should, but it does, so there.

Pip opens the door. He’s bare-chested and wearing just sweats and I can feel the heat glowing on my face. His hair is all messed up and he tries to smooth it down. He looks fairly taken aback and I don’t think his surprise is confined to the gargantuan size of my rucksack.

‘Hi,’ Pip says with a broad, but very confused smile. ‘Travelling light?’

‘I’m on my way to the airport.’

‘Oh.’ His face falls. ‘Then you’d better come in.’