As our relationship had changed from that of lovers to reluctant dependant and carer, I knew Julian had found the situation just as hard as I had – more so, for he was such a private person and resented each indignity of illness. And it brought anger – I’d never seen him angry in all our time together, until one day frustration welled up like a volcano and he shouted at me. Just for a brief moment his eyes had held the hard gaze of a bitter stranger. Since then, I’d learned to dread that look.

But there had been some physical improvement in the first months after the stroke. He could walk to the workshop, supervise Grant and old Ivan, design a window or glass installation, take on more of the running of Julian Seddon Architectural Glass again.

But he wanted to be the man he had been and by now he must have realized as well as I that things would never be the same again.

The role of nurse and then carer had not come easily to me and in the first months I’d been thankful for Molly’s help. She’d previously been a nurse, though she now made her living filling the freezers of select clients with healthy home-cooked meals, and Julian seemed to find her brisk, impersonal no-nonsense assistance more acceptable than mine.

But I was sure that love in some form still existed between us and would eventually settle into a new pattern – and if that was more a thing of shared interests and long association, then that was the way most marriages probably went …

Though actually, we hadn’t married because I’d never wanted to, even though after ten years Julian had teased me about my having become a common-law wife, whether I liked it or not. I suppose I might have changed my mind if there’d been a child to consider, but we had been so happy and fulfilled together that we’d kept putting off starting a family …

I must have made some small noise, for Julian lifted his head and, to my relief, gave me a slight, lop-sided smile.

‘Hi, Angel. I’m making notes for my will.’

I could feel the answering smile freezing on my lips and my heart began to thump. ‘Your will? Are you feeling—’

‘Don’t panic,’ he interrupted impatiently. ‘I’m not doing it because I’m feeling worse. It’s just that I’ve been putting it off because it always seemed like tempting Fate, but now I think Fate already knows where I live, so I might as well sort things out.’

He gave another slightly twisted smile. ‘Anyway, I heard something on the radio the other day that set me thinking. It appears that if you die without making a will, it can lead to all kinds of problems and delays.’