Thirty-Five

‘Stop right there.’

‘You scared the life out of me!’ I exclaim as Ed Allister, my boss, pulls me to one side on the pavement, making room for others to pass. ‘What’s wrong?’

He grins, his brown eyes merry. ‘Nothing’s wrong. I just had to be here to see it.’

‘See what?’

He nods ahead to Dragonheart – the bookshop that he owns and that has been my primary place of work for the past five years. My brow furrows quizzically at him and then my eyes widen with delight and anticipation.

‘Have they arrived?’ I gasp, rushing ahead before he can answer. I clap my hands over my mouth and stare in at the window display that Ed must’ve come in early to set up. He already has his phone out and is clicking off pictures of my face. I burst out laughing, beside myself.

I can’t believe it. There they are – in the window – a whole stack of them. Several books face outwards: small hardbacks with rich cream covers and Fudge and Smudge sitting on the crab-apple tree, their tan faces looking exceptionally mischievous and their pointy ears almost as high as their hats. I do a little jig on the spot and then turn and throw my arms around my boss.

‘I’m so proud of you,’ he mutters in my ear before pulling away.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, overcome with emotion. ‘I wish Van were here to see them.’

‘He’ll be here soon enough,’ he replies gruffly, patting my back as we head into the building.

I work in the very same children’s bookshop in Falmouth that Van encouraged me to visit to enquire about a job. The weird thing is – and I think this is properly weird – I’d met Ed, my boss, before.

I’d been into this shop several times, browsing with Luke, so that’s why I thought he seemed familiar when I came in to ask about a job. But the more we spoke to each other, the more perplexed he became.

‘I feel like I’ve met you before,’ he said, scratching his head and making his milk-chocolate hair look even scruffier than it already did.

‘Me too!’ I exclaimed, glad it wasn’t just me. ‘I work at The Boatman. Have you been in there?’

‘Is that a pub?’ he asked.

‘Yes, in Helford, right on the river.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘I know the pub you’re talking about, but I haven’t been there in years. I only moved from London a few months ago.’

‘Really? Where in London did you live?’

‘Chiswick.’

‘No way! That’s where I grew up! Well, until I was seven. I came to live with my dad when my mum moved abroad. What made you decide to relocate?’

I remember feeling very at ease, talking to him. It didn’t feel like I was being interviewed for a job; it felt like I was chatting to an old friend.

‘I used to come as a child,’ he revealed. ‘Had a couple more holidays here during my twenties and caught the bug. My wife and I needed a change of scene so we decided to buy this place.’ He looked around whimsically.

‘Bastian,’ I whispered, as it hit me. ‘The boy from The NeverEnding Story…’

He gave me a funny look.

‘You’re Edward!’ I cried. ‘I’m Nell! Don’t you remember? Your mum and dad stayed in a cottage up in Mawgan. You came to my house after we’d caught a duckling!’

The look on his face – it was brilliant. He completely lit up, a dimple springing into place on his cheek and making him look super sweet, even at his age, which I seemed to recall was more or less the same as mine. ‘Of course I remember!’ he exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe this. Nell! I thought about you for years!’ His face fell as a memory came back to him. ‘Your mum…’

I shook my head. ‘She wasn’t my mum. She was my dad’s girlfriend. But, yeah.’ I nodded, looking down. ‘It was tragic.’

He offered me the job that same day.

‘I hope you’re celebrating tonight,’ Ed says at the end of our shift.

‘I wish. No, Nick’s taken Luke camping, so it’ll just be me, myself and I.’ I can’t even speak to Van as it’s the middle of the night in Australia.

‘Why don’t we go for dinner?’ Ed asks.

‘Really?’

‘Sure. Come on, it’s Saturday. We’ll raise a toast.’

‘Okay.’ I grin at him. Doesn’t take much to persuade me.

He lives in Falmouth, but suggests going somewhere local to me so that I can drop my car home first – he’ll drive so I can drink. We park in Helford and catch the small ferryboat across to the pub on the other side. It’s a lovely summer’s evening and the lower deck is drenched in sunshine. Ed goes inside to get our drinks, returning with a glass of Prosecco for me and a beer for himself.

‘To Fudge and Smudge,’ he says, and even though his eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses, I know they’re smiling. ‘And you and Van, obviously,’ he adds with a grin. ‘Here’s to the first of many more books to come. Cheers.’

‘Thank you,’ I say with heartfelt gratitude as he chinks my glass. ‘If it hadn’t been for you…’

He waves me away and sips his beer. ‘You guys would’ve done it no matter what.’

Ed’s father and his younger brother – the brother his mother was pregnant with when we first met – own and run a small publishing company in London. Through them, Ed has contacts in the industry, and he helped Van and me submit our stories to publishers. We had interest from three, but decided to go with Ed’s family business. His dad, Simon, and brother, Jamie, were as enthusiastic about the books as Ed was, so it felt right.

I couldn’t believe it when we were offered those book deals nine months ago. I can picture Van’s face clearly when I told him on FaceTime – he was gobsmacked. He kissed the screen! What I wouldn’t have given to be able to tell him in person, but it was the best we could do.

The last five years have been hard – tougher at some points than at others. It was very difficult at first. I’d lost Dad and then Van, too. We spoke every day that he wasn’t out at sea – sometimes twice a day – and that helped, but all I wanted was to be held by him and it was a long time before we could make that happen. I managed to go to Australia about eight months after Dad passed away and Van and I had three weeks together. I was nervous about meeting Libby – what if she didn’t like me? But she was such a little cutie and we had loads of laughs together.

How I pined for Luke during that time, though. I couldn’t afford his flight as well as my own so he stayed behind. A year later, Van came to Cornwall to visit me, but once more, he had to come without Libby. It wasn’t only the money; Sam didn’t want her daughter disappearing abroad for weeks and she point-blank refused to let her go.

Since then, Van and I have seen each other about once a year, but it’s not enough – it’s nowhere near enough. It’s been almost twelve months since we were last together, but he’s coming over in a few days – and Libby, finally, too. Sam has relented and I still can’t believe it. Libby is taking a whole month off school! It’s the British summer holidays and we’re going to have the best time. I can hardly contain my excitement.

‘What are you up to tomorrow?’ I ask Ed, dusting sand off the wooden table surface. The beach is literally across the road, five metres away. I love it here because I can chill out in the sunshine and Luke can play by the water, skimming stones and messing around with his pals.

‘I’m going to take the boat out.’ The shop is closed on Sundays.

Ed bought a small sailing boat a few months ago, but I still haven’t been out on it.

‘Why don’t you come?’ he asks. ‘Or have you got other plans?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ I reply ruefully. ‘I have to put up a bunk bed.’

‘A bunk bed?’

‘For Libby and Luke. They’re sleeping in the bedroom that Van and I used to share. I stupidly swapped our bunk for a single bed when I was a teenager.’

I’m very open now about my relationship with Van. I took Ellie’s advice five years ago and have told it to people straight ever since. If anything, people have found the idea of me falling in love with my best friend kind of romantic.

Mum was the only person to raise her eyebrows, but that’s mainly because she’s a snob and thinks I can do better. She made her feelings clear about Nick in that respect, too.

We’re on pretty good terms at the moment, probably the best we’ve ever been. We speak on the phone every few weeks, and Luke enjoys his chats with Grandma.

‘You going to be all right building a bunk bed on your own?’ Ed asks with concern.

I shrug. ‘Should be. I might have to beg poor Nick for help, otherwise, and he’s got more than enough on his plate this week.’

Nick and Stefanie, his girlfriend of three years, are tying the knot on Friday. I like her a lot and Luke adores her. As for Nick, he’s absolutely besotted – I’ve witnessed no signs of him straying. I’m glad to see him so settled.

Nick wanted some one-on-one time with Luke before he and Stefanie set off on their honeymoon, hence the camping trip. Last time Van was over, Nick took Luke to Italy with him and Stefanie for two weeks, which worked well for everyone. But this time, Van and I are finally going to be able to spend time together as a foursome with Luke and Libby.

‘Don’t trouble him,’ Ed says with a frown. ‘I can give you a hand if you need it.’

‘No!’ I wave him away. ‘You don’t want to be coming all this way again.’

‘Let’s do it tonight, then. After dinner.’

‘Really?’ I ask dubiously.

‘Why not?’

‘I’d better stop drinking, then.’

Ed and I hit it off straight away and I would definitely class us more as friends than colleagues, but it’s only been in the last six months or so that we’ve started seeing each other socially. The main reason for this is that Ed’s wife was a proper cow. I say ‘was’, but I mean ‘is’, as in, she is a proper cow, but was his wife. They broke up late last year after he walked in on her in bed with another man. I think he’d suspected her of straying – she had at least once before, in London – but it was still a shock to catch her in the act.

Tasha hadn’t wanted to leave London – she’d complained to me on several occasions about how bored she was here. I used to find it hard to believe that such a nice guy could’ve married such a miserable, moany cow, but Ed claims that she wasn’t always like that.

I only found out later that she’d agreed to their fresh start under duress. She’d confessed to an affair with her married boss after his wife had found out, thinking she’d get in first by telling Ed. Ed agreed to give her a second chance and they relocated to Cornwall, but I know the last few years have been a struggle for them. He opened up to me back in December after breaking down. I’d always liked working for him, but that day we became firm friends.

I adore Ed. He’s such a lovely, kind man, and the thought of Tasha cheating on him makes me furious. He’ll have no trouble replacing her when he’s ready.

‘I hope this weather holds out.’ I tilt my face up to the sun.

I hear a rustle of paper and glance at Ed to see that he’s picked up the menu. ‘Five-day forecast is looking good,’ he murmurs.

‘What does the monthly one say?’ I ask with a grin.

He eyes me over the top of his sunglasses. ‘Wish I could tell you.’ He pushes the glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and scrutinises the food options. I don’t need to look – I already know what I’m having.

Ed scratches his arm. He’s so tanned at the moment from all of the sailing he’s been doing, and the light-brown hairs on his lean forearms are tinged blond. It’s the best he’s looked since I’ve known him. He lost weight after the split – not that he was overweight before – but now he looks fit and healthy and… yep, the waitress has noticed.

Ed thanks her distractedly as she collects empties left over from the last people who were sitting here. ‘Are you okay to order at the bar?’ she asks him with a flirty smile.

‘Sure,’ he replies, glancing at me once she’s gone. ‘Do you know what you’re having?’

‘When do you reckon you’ll be up for dating again?’ I lean in closer to ask, giggling at the immediate comical expression on his face.

‘Talk about an out-of-the-blue question.’

‘I’m just thinking you look kind of hot right now. You could totally pull if you wanted to.’

‘Gee, thanks,’ he replies sardonically.

I smile. ‘So? When are you planning to put yourself back out there?’

‘It’s not a question of when. If the right girl…’ His voice trails off and he frowns. ‘Anyway, I’m not even divorced yet.’

‘Neither is Tasha, but that hasn’t stopped her.’

He snorts wryly under his breath. ‘Yeah, well, that’s Tasha for you.’

She’s been wandering around Falmouth with a new man on her arm – not even the guy she cheated on Ed with.

I wish she’d move back to London. She complained about it for long enough, but she’s still here, rubbing salt in Ed’s wounds. She was flabbergasted when he filed for divorce – I think she thought she had him wrapped around her little finger and that he’d give her yet another chance.

‘The waitress keeps looking at you,’ I whisper, leaning in closer again.

Ed tenses, his shoulders going rigid. ‘Really?’ he whispers in return.

‘Yeah.’ I grin at him. ‘She’s pretty.’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’

‘So start paying attention!’

‘Are you all right out here or shall we move inside to eat?’

I laugh. ‘Nice change of subject. Let’s stay out here for a bit longer.’

‘Do you know what you’re having?’ he asks again.

‘Fish and chips. I’ll go.’ I bend down to grab my bag from under the table.

‘No, this is my treat,’ Ed says firmly, already on his feet. ‘We’re celebrating.’

‘You got the drinks.’

‘Shh. Another Prosecco?’

I know when I’m beaten. ‘Yes, please.’ I beam at him and he looks amused as he turns away.

Plonking my handbag on the table in front of me, I pull out my copy of Fudge and Smudge, the River Piskies. It feels totally surreal – I can’t believe that I wrote this and that Van illustrated it. It’s been five years in the making, but we did it – we actually did it – and there are more in the pipeline. We signed a three-book deal and delivered them all straight up, and now we’re working on another three. Hopefully there will be a market for them, but we’re not in it for the money, anyway. It’s just as well – the advance was minimal.

I open the book to the dedication:

For our cheeky little piskies, Luke and Libby

When they’re older, they’re probably going to hate that we referred to them as piskies. The thought makes me smile.

The kids have been amazing. I used to write the stories and read them to Luke, and when I’d addressed any suggestions he had, I’d pass them to Van to read to Libby.

Luke’s captivation massively spurred me on. But my favourite moment was seeing his face when I showed him Van’s very first picture. It was of Fudge and Smudge, huddled together on a branch of the crab-apple tree, with the river sparkling in the background. It’s the same image we’ve used for the front cover of the first book.

Van had worked on that piece for months – a mixture of pencil drawing and watercolour. He wouldn’t let me see it as a work in progress, nor any of the drafts that he discarded. He wasn’t at all confident that he could pull it off, but I was blown away when he showed me his work on FaceTime. He was so nervous, waiting for my reaction. The original piece is a lot larger, but I was able to get a true sense of how it would work as a book illustration when he sent me a smaller still by email.

Luke thought it was magical, seeing the characters being brought to life.

Ed returns, removing his sunglasses and putting them down in front of him on the table. The sun has disappeared behind the buildings so now we’re in the shade, unfortunately. Maybe we will move inside after all.

I slip my book away and return my bag to the sandy ground, smiling across at Ed.

‘Cheers,’ he says, chinking my fresh glass.

‘Thank you,’ I say again, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Ed didn’t just put me in touch with the right people, he read the stories and helped get them ready for submission to publishers. When I commented on what a good editor he was, he revealed that he had worked with his dad and brother on and off over the years. He could’ve continued to work for the family business, but it sounds like it was a case of too many cooks. He didn’t want relationships to be strained – especially between him and his younger brother – so he went out on his own.

‘You’re welcome,’ he replies, not making light of the sincerity in my eyes. He shakes his head. ‘It still blows my mind that you told me about Fudge and Smudge all those years ago.’

He remembered this soon after I’d started working at Dragonheart, when I’d admitted to writing children’s stories in my spare time. Under duress, I shyly told him what the stories were about and his face lit up with recognition. He reminded me of how we’d sat on the lawn outside the cottage while Van was in the studio, painting, and I laughed, recalling that Van had been in a right stroppy mood that day. I’ve suspected ever since that Ed’s hearing the stories as a child is probably why he’s invested in them now.

‘Twenty-five years ago,’ I say. ‘Took us long enough.’

‘Better late than never.’

The waitress comes over again to clear the table. I give Ed a meaningful look as she takes his beer glass.

‘Thanks.’ He narrows his eyes at me. ‘What?’ he asks as she walks away again.

‘You didn’t even look at her!’

‘I’m not interested,’ he brushes me off.

A thought strikes me from out of nowhere. ‘Oh my God,’ I say. ‘My friend Brooke! You have to meet her! She’s recently moved back to Cornwall!’

Ed shakes his head.

‘Seriously!’ I exclaim. ‘She’s single! She split up with her boyfriend a few months ago.’

‘Nell, please.’ He frowns and takes a sip of his beer.

‘Oh, come on, Ed,’ I berate him. ‘She’s stunning. Honestly, I really think you could get on. Maybe we could have a barbecue when Van arrives.’

He puts his glass down with a forceful clunk.

‘Fine, then, forget it.’

He sighs. ‘If you invite me to a barbecue, of course I’ll come. But please don’t try to matchmake me, okay?’

‘Okay.’ I shrug.

I won’t need to, if Brooke’s around.

‘Still up for a bit of bunk-building?’ Ed asks, pulling up behind my car on the drive.

‘Are you sure?’ I check apprehensively. ‘You’ve spent all day with me. You really want to do some DIY, too? You know that’s how people fall out?’

He smirks and unclicks his seatbelt in response.

‘I should’ve brought my electric screwdriver,’ Ed says a short while later, as he takes in our surroundings.

Last night I disassembled the single bed and moved it and all of the furniture out of Luke’s bedroom. Now we’ve unpacked the bunk and there are planks of wood of varying sizes laid out on the floor and propped up against the walls.

He swoops down and picks up the instructions. ‘So we need that bit with this bit.’

I’m reaching for my glass of Prosecco so I miss where he’s pointing. ‘Sorry, which bits?’

‘This would be more fun with a beer,’ he states as I take a sip of my drink.

‘Why don’t you stay in the annexe tonight? It’s all made up. Go on,’ I urge when he doesn’t immediately say no. ‘I’ve got a spare toothbrush – I’ll get it for you.’

I jump to my feet, half-expecting him to call after me. I’m pleased when he doesn’t.

I hand him a beer on my return. ‘Keys and toothbrush are on the windowsill in the hall, so you have an escape route for when it all becomes too much.’

‘Are you sure?’ Ed tentatively accepts the bottle.

‘Sure, I’m sure. Why not?’

‘Thanks.’

‘No, thank you.’ I pull a face. ‘You’re helping me out big time.’

‘Let’s see about that later. Cheers.’

‘I can’t believe I’m trying to make a children’s bed when I am completely and utterly shit-faced.’

Ed chuckles. ‘We’re almost done.’

‘Is this massively irresponsible?’

He opens his mouth to speak.

‘Don’t answer that question,’ I cut him off.

‘I think we’ve followed the instructions correctly.’ He grabs the bunk rail and gives it a firm shake. ‘Feels solid.’

‘Maybe I should sleep up there tonight to test it,’ I say.

‘At least you’d fit.’ He’s smiling.

‘Yeah, I know, I’m a short-arse.’

He’s just shy of six foot himself.

‘I’m going up there,’ I claim with determination, hauling myself up the ladder.

‘Careful.’

‘Ooh, I like it!’ I flop onto my tummy. ‘I could totally do this. Come up!’

He shakes his head.

‘Go on.’ I grab his arm and am faintly surprised by the feeling of his muscled bicep under my fingers.

‘That would definitely exceed the weight limit.’ He steps out of my grasp.

I roll onto my side and prop my head up on my palm, grinning at him.

‘Thanks, Ed.’ My voice is full of warmth.

‘You’re welcome.’

He has wood dust on his nose. ‘Here, you’ve got some…’ I beckon him forward and his eyebrows pull together as I clean him off.

‘You’ve got some, too,’ he murmurs, brushing his thumb across my cheek. We meet each other’s eyes and a nervy feeling starts up in my stomach. I jolt as my phone vibrates on the windowsill.

‘Can you chuck me my phone?’ I ask shakily.

‘Van.’ He reads the display as he hands it over.

‘Hello!’ I exclaim as I answer.

‘Hey!’ Van says amiably, his face filling the screen.

‘Wait!’ I call after Ed, who was about to leave the room. ‘Van, say hi to Ed.’ I turn the screen around. Ed waves bashfully.

‘Ed’s been helping me erect the bunk,’ I say in a jolly voice. ‘Look.’ I show Van what I’m sitting on while Ed hovers in the doorway.

‘Nice work,’ he says.

I return the screen to my face and giggle.

‘Are you drunk?’ he asks and rightfully so.

‘Yep. We were celebrating. Oh! Where’s my bag?’ I look around, but my bag is nowhere to be seen.

‘It’s downstairs. I’ll get it,’ Ed offers, leaving the room.

‘Thank you!’ I call after him, shifting to sit with my back against the wall.

Van is waiting. ‘Celebrating what?’

‘You’ll see,’ I reply mysteriously.

Van has short hair and a beard now – not a huge bushy one or anything, but it’s definitely several millimetres more than stubble.

He also has a scar cutting through his left eyebrow. For a while I couldn’t look at it without feeling physical pain myself. He did it while surfing the Yanerbie Bombie in Streaky Bay, an absolutely enormous, horrifically powerful wave. He wiped out on the reef and got pretty badly bashed about – he was lucky he didn’t break bones.

It kills me that I wasn’t the first person he called – but how could I be? I can’t be his emergency contact when I’m so far away. I’m thankful he has friends like Dave who he can depend on when things go wrong.

He promised me he wouldn’t go surfing there again. The accident scared him, too.

‘Shall I call you back?’ Van asks.

‘No, hang on a minute.’

Ed returns and hands me my bag. ‘Thank you. You don’t have to go,’ I say quickly when he heads out the door again.

‘I’ll grab another drink,’ he replies.

I stare after his departing back and then return my eyes to the screen.

‘He’s there late,’ Van notes with a slight frown.

‘He’s staying in the annexe tonight.’ I think I carry off nonchalance, but I feel slightly on edge. ‘We went out for dinner and then he came back to help me. We thought DIY would be more fun with alcohol.’

No comment from Van.

‘Anyway, as I said, we were celebrating!’ I inject enthusiasm into my voice as I pull out my copy of Fudge and Smudge. ‘Ta-da!’

‘You’ve got finished copies at last!’ His demeanour completely transforms.

‘Yes!’ I tuck the tiny hardback under my chin and smile at him.

‘Ah, man.’ He shakes his head, blown away.

‘I wish you could have been there today to see them in the shop window. Ed came in early to put them out.’

‘I’ll see them on the weekend. Are we still going in?’

‘Yes.’

We’re doing a signing at the shop – Ed has had posters made up and everything. It has been the weirdest thing, serving customers while my face – and Van’s – stares out from behind me on the wall.

‘I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next few days,’ I say with a sigh. The last two months have dragged by. ‘If I could fall asleep now and wake up on Thursday, I would.’

He smiles. His eyes are even darker on the screen than in person – midnight-blue, I’ve taken to calling them in my head. ‘You should get back to Ed. Can you say thanks to him from me? I feel bad that he’s had to help you with that.’

‘He didn’t mind. He’s a nice guy.’

‘Yeah.’ He inhales sharply. ‘Love you.’

‘I love you, too.’

We sign off and I sit there for a minute, feeling slightly dazed. Then I crawl to the end of the bed and gingerly navigate the ladder.

‘Ed?’ I call on my way downstairs.

‘In the kitchen. I opted for coffee,’ he says with a smile when I appear. ‘Want one?’

He’s managed to find what he needs.

‘Nah, think I’ll stick to water. Van said to tell you thanks.’

‘It’s no trouble. It’s been fun.’

‘Yeah. It has.’ We smile at each other, but look away at the same time.

‘I don’t think I’m going to be long out of bed,’ I say with a yawn.

‘Me neither,’ he replies. ‘I’ll get this down me first.’ He takes a sip of his coffee.

I linger for a moment longer, making him promise not to rush off in the morning.

‘I owe you a fry-up!’ I call cheerfully before ducking into the bathroom.

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he calls back.

I didn’t hug or kiss him on the cheek, which would’ve been normal and appropriate behaviour for us. It’s just that… That moment… upstairs… It wasn’t the first time it’s happened.

Last month, I went to a birthday dinner for Ed at his flat. His brother and a few close friends came down from London. I’d met them before at his house-warming party, and they’ve all been rallying round since the split. It was a brilliantly fun night and, afterwards, I stayed back to help Ed clear up. He and I reached for an empty bottle of wine and our fingers brushed. When we met each other’s eyes, I got the same edgy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It freaked me out for a while afterwards, but I reasoned that I was feeling lonely and neglected after a year without Van, and it was understandable that my body responded to a bit of human contact. I try to tell myself the same thing now and resolve to put it out of my mind.

Ed knocks on the cottage door as I’m preparing to make breakfast. He chuckles when he sees the dark glasses I’m wearing.

‘Oh dear. That bad, hey?’

‘How are you?’ I ask, returning to the kitchen.

He shrugs. ‘I’m all right. I didn’t drink that much.’ He surveys the contents on the counter: eggs, bacon, sausages, a tin of baked beans, bread… ‘What can I do?’

‘Nothing. I promised.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ he mutters, grabbing a knife and slitting the bacon package open. ‘Are you really going to be able to stomach all of this?’

‘It’s for you,’ I reply.

‘I’d be just as happy with a bacon butty.’

Ooh. Maybe I do want food…

We end up out on the patio at the bench table, sitting side by side so we’re both facing the view. It’s a gorgeous, bright morning and the tide is in, the river surface as still as glass. The mature oaks are clumped so close together from high up on the steep banks to right down by the water’s edge that their green treetops look like one big spongy mass. Birds in flight swoop under and around each other, like jet planes in a Red Arrows display, and a heron takes off from the branch of a dead tree trunk, defying gravity as its enormous wings shine white against the blue sky.

‘What a place to grow up,’ Ed murmurs appreciatively.

‘It was pretty special.’

For the most part, I add silently to myself, thinking of the painful years after Ruth’s death when Van had left, too.

‘How did you cope with Luke and the water when he was little?’

‘We were very careful,’ I say. ‘But yeah, we should’ve put a fence up. I thought I’d sort it out for next time, but there never was a next time.’

‘You’re only thirty-five,’ he says.

‘It’s not going to happen now.’

‘Why not?’

‘With Van on the other side of the world?’ I cast him a look. ‘It’s always been one of his greatest fears that I’ll fall pregnant. He didn’t even meet his dad until he was seven and that’s no way to live. It would kill him to leave Libby, and there’s no way Sam would let him take her – at least, not permanently. He’d have to split himself in two.’

I always thought I’d have at least two children close together in age. I would’ve loved a boy followed by a girl, and when Luke was born, it seemed that might become a reality. But the older Luke grew, the further away my dream drifted. Now he’s had almost ten years of being an only child.

Maybe Nick and Stefanie will make a big brother of him, but I can’t see how I ever will. Van is rooted to Australia until Libby turns eighteen – that is the earliest he’ll consider leaving her. I can’t imagine ever leaving Luke and relocating to the other side of the world – not even when he’s an adult. I know Van is burying his head in the sand about it because the move will devastate him, but the alternative to both of us is incomprehensible.

‘Do you want kids?’ I ask Ed.

‘Yeah, I always thought I’d have a couple.’

‘You and Tasha never…’

‘We talked about it. It was supposed to be part of the plan for moving from London, but it was never the right time. I’m so glad now that we didn’t bring children into that mess.’

‘At least there’s no rush for you. You’re a guy.’

‘Thank you for that observation.’ He casts me a wry grin and polishes off the last of his breakfast.

Four days later, I make my favourite journey in the world – driving to the airport. At least, it’s my favourite journey until it becomes my least favourite journey when I’m dropping Van and Libby off again, but I’m trying very hard not to think about that.

Luke is in the front seat beside me and we’ve got the music turned right up. I’m singing ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ by the Glee cast at the top of my voice and Luke is indulging me. I’m probably far too old to be obsessed by this television series, but it makes me feel young. It’s the sort of thing Ellie and I would’ve watched religiously as teenagers – she’s hooked on it now, too.

I still miss my old friend, who’s firmly rooted in Newcastle with her husband Liam and their two children, Thomas, who’s nearly two, and Ciara, who’s four months. They’re coming to Cornwall next week for a family holiday so we’ll catch up then. I’ve managed to tie it in with a date for our barbecue next Sunday. Brooke and Ed will both be there, although I’ve promised the latter that I won’t interfere from here on in.

The song comes to an end and Luke turns down the volume.

‘You all right?’ I ask.

‘Can’t she sleep in with her dad?’

I sigh heavily. ‘Come on, Luke, don’t start that again. It’ll be fun sharing with Libby. Anyway, Van will be in my room, not the annexe.’ We’ve talked about that, too…

He huffs and stares out of the window. ‘Fine. But I’m having the top bunk.’

‘I thought we’d decided to discuss that when we got home,’ I say carefully. We were supposed to be keeping an open mind – I don’t know how Libby will feel about taking the bottom bunk. ‘Please be nice,’ I beg, patting his leg. ‘You know how much I’ve been looking forward to them coming.’

He turns the music back on.

An hour later, we’re standing in the arrivals hall and I’m trying to steady the bouncing ball of nervous anticipation ricocheting off the walls of my stomach. Luke is kicking his foot against the railing, fidgety with boredom.

‘Stop that,’ I berate him, ruffling his blond curls.

‘How much longer?’ he moans.

‘Any minute now.’

He rolls his honey-coloured eyes.

When I next look back at the door, I’m staring straight at Van.

‘There they are!’ I cry, fighting the urge to run to him. We’ve already agreed that we’ll keep our enthusiasm contained so we don’t freak the kids out, but by God, it’s hard. I’m giddy with joy.

He’s heartbreakingly handsome: tall and tanned, his broad chest filling out his faded orange T-shirt and a dark-grey hoodie tied casually around his waist. His blue eyes sparkle as he approaches. I can barely drag my gaze away to smile at Libby, but then I do and, gosh, she’s so pretty. Her daddy’s eyes stare out at me from behind a wispy fringe – her hair is auburn-coloured and comes to her shoulder blades, and she’s so tall! Even taller than Luke. She’s wearing hot-pink leggings with white trainers and a light-grey hoodie covered with silver stars. She’s smiling as I step forward to hug her.

‘Hey, Luke!’ I hear Van say in a warm, deep voice as I prattle on to Libby about how good it is to see her. Van shakes Luke’s shoulder affectionately – they don’t hug. We meet each other’s eyes with a smile and then he steps forward and clasps my face in his hands, planting a chaste kiss on my lips.

Nope, no way.

I hook my arms around his waist and squeeze him hard, feeling my heart slamming into his. He feels amazing… It aches to let him go, but we do so with a meaningful stare. We’ll say a proper hello later.

‘Luke, you know Libby.’

They’ve only met on FaceTime.

‘Hi,’ he says shyly, hanging slightly back.

Her corresponding hello is more confident.

‘I can’t believe how much you’ve shot up!’ I say to her. ‘You must be the tallest girl in your year?’

She shrugs. ‘There are two others taller than me.’

‘Must be all that Aussie sunshine.’

‘It was bucketing down when we left,’ Van says. ‘Wasn’t it, Libs?’

‘Yep. Is it summer here?’ She seems unconvinced, like she’s been told this fact, but will believe it when she sees it.

‘Supposedly,’ I reply with a grin.

‘It’ll be warmer than back home,’ Van promises.

I wrinkle my nose at him. That’s not necessarily true…

He grins at me and my heart does another somersault.

‘Come on, then, you cheeky little piskies,’ I say with a smile. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Libby and Luke glance at each other and pull faces. Judging by their expressions, I won’t be able to get away with using that term of affection for much longer. I’d better make the most of it.

Libby is a chatterbox. She talks and asks questions for most of the journey home. I keep glancing across at Van, trying to contain my laughter.

‘She doesn’t take after you,’ I tease when his daughter is too busy talking about Pokémon with Luke to pay us any attention. Luke is also being surprisingly animated. We don’t know where he got his usual ‘car journey quiet’ from – not Nick or me, that’s for sure. Must be my dad.

We come to a stop at some traffic lights and I reach across and rub my knuckles along Van’s jaw. His beard is surprisingly soft. I’ve been dying to stroke it for months.

‘What is your mum doing to my dad’s face?’ I hear Libby ask circumspectly.

I snatch my hand away and Van shakes his head, staring at the roof of the car as I crack up laughing.

I have a feeling that this trip is going to be quite a bit different to the last time when it was almost entirely just the two of us.

‘Can I sleep in the top bunk?’ Libby asks as soon as she sees Luke’s bedroom.

‘Um…’ My son glances at me uncertainly.

‘Libs, if that’s where Luke wants to sleep…’ Van starts to say.

‘No, it’s okay,’ Luke interrupts awkwardly. ‘She can if she wants.’

‘Yay!’ She proceeds to climb straight up there.

Luke glances at me again and I give him a questioning look. Is he sure?

He shrugs at me.

‘Come up!’ Libby urges him.

‘Er, okay.’ Luke walks hesitantly over to the ladder.

‘See you downstairs when you’re ready,’ I say to them both, but mainly addressing Libby. ‘Your dad and I will be in the kitchen.’

‘Can we go out on the rowboat?’ Libby calls after us.

‘Maybe later, Libs,’ Van replies. ‘Let’s chill out here for a bit first, eh?’

She’s already chattering away to Luke by the time we reach the stairs. I cast a smile over my shoulder at Van, but manage to wait until we’re in the relative privacy of the kitchen before throwing my arms around him. He holds me so tight that I can barely breathe, but I’m quite happy to make do without oxygen. We move to kiss each other at the same time and our lips stay locked as he walks me backwards to the kitchen counter. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, shivers rocketing up and down my spine as we kiss each other senseless. Neither of us hears Libby and Luke appear until the former speaks.

‘Urgh. Grown-ups are gross.’

We break apart, instantly. I blush madly and Van drags his hand across his face with embarrassment.

‘Sorry, kids,’ I apologise, mortified. ‘Who wants a biscuit?’

‘Me!’ they both cry simultaneously.

I’ve turned into my dad…

‘Can we go on the rowboat now?’ Libby asks as I crack open a whole packet of Jaffa Cakes.

‘Libs,’ Van groans.

I giggle. Like I say, I think this trip is going to be a bit different to last time…

Libby conks out at six forty-five, having gone thirty-eight hours with only four hours’ sleep, but it’s another hour and a quarter before Luke takes to his bed with a book.

Poor Van had even less sleep than his daughter, but he’s determined to stay awake until we can safely retreat to my room. We sit in the kitchen and talk while his eyes grow heavy-lidded with exhaustion.

I reach across and trace my fingertip across the scar on his eyebrow, my insides contracting.

He swipes my hand and kisses the tips of my fingers. He doesn’t want to dwell on his surfing accident. We’ve been over and over it on the phone.

‘Sorry you have to wait so long to take me to bed,’ I say.

‘You’re worth waiting for,’ he replies.

‘Ohhh, so corny!’ I crack up laughing. ‘You should be the writer, not me.’

‘How’s the next story going?’ he asks with a grin.

‘Slowly. I’ve been too excited about you coming to write.’

‘Has Ed seen any of it?’

‘Before you?’ I frown. ‘No.’

He regards me thoughtfully and I experience a small, strange stab of guilt.

‘Did you bring your art gear?’ I ask.

He nods. ‘I brought a couple of recent illustrations, too. I wondered if Luke might like them for his room.’

‘That’s a great idea! We’ll get them framed.’

He smiles and leans forward in his seat, taking my other hand, too. We stare at each other for a long moment.

‘Come here,’ he says eventually, pulling me towards him. I straddle his lap and he cups my face in his hands, kissing me.

‘Bugger this, let’s go to the annexe,’ I mutter. ‘I’ll turn the old baby monitor on so we’ll hear Luke if he comes downstairs.’

We hurry outside, not bothering with shoes, and as soon as the door’s unlocked, I’m up against the wall.

‘What is that?’ he asks, sliding his mouth away from mine.

‘A surf board.’

‘Yeah, I can see it’s a surf board, Nell.’

‘Nick left it for you to borrow while he’s abroad.’

‘God, I love your husband.’

‘Ex-husband,’ I correct as Van picks me up and carries me to the bed.

The shock of our bare skin colliding reverberates throughout every inch of my body. It feels achingly good to be close to him again and we don’t waste time with foreplay – the last twelve months have been more than enough.

Van conks out straight afterwards and I kiss his forehead and let him be, pulling on my clothes and returning to my room so I’ll be nearby if and when the kids wake up. But in the middle of the night he climbs into bed with me. I wake up in his arms.

On Friday, it’s Nick and Stefanie’s wedding. Luke is the ring bearer and I’m bursting with pride at the sight of him standing beside his dad at the register office. He looks so grown-up.

Nick and Stefanie are heading off on their honeymoon tomorrow for two weeks, leaving the pub in the hands of Drew, who’s returned home from Buckinghamshire with his wife and two children for the summer. Drew is a sports therapist now, and it’s good to catch up with him and his family.

The next day is Saturday and time for our one and only book signing. The kids are excited, but Van and I are nervous. We have no idea if anyone will turn up to the shop, but Ed has asked us to sign the stock in any case, so it won’t be a wasted journey.

Ed looks up from the till and smiles as we walk through the door, his eyes moving from me to Van. He comes out from behind the counter to shake his hand.

‘It’s great to see you again,’ Ed says.

‘It’s been a while,’ Van replies.

‘Twenty-five years,’ I point out. ‘This is Libby.’ I shepherd her in front of me. ‘And obviously you know Luke.’ I glance around for my son, but he’s already found his way to the toy section – we sell some to supplement book sales. Libby joins him.

‘A few people have been in to ask about the signing,’ Ed tells us. ‘I reckon we’ll have a decent turnout.’

I hear a voice behind me. ‘Is that Nell Forrester? The author?’

I spin on my heels and crack up laughing at the sight of Ellie standing in the doorway, clutching her young son’s hand. Her baby daughter is safely tucked into the carrier she’s wearing.

I run and throw my arms around her, straddling her feet awkwardly due to the bundle strapped to her front. ‘What are you doing here?’ I cry. ‘I thought you weren’t coming until next week!’

‘And miss your signing? Nah.’ She shakes her head. ‘Was never gonna happen.’ Shooting a look across the shop, she claps her hands comically to her face. ‘Oh my God, it’s Van Stirling, the illustrator!’

He sniggers as they exchange another clumsy baby-bundle hug.

Van only really goes by Stirling now. Stanley Stirling is a bit of a mouthful, so Stanley has become more of a middle name.

‘Hello again!’ Ellie goes over to say a warm hi to Ed. ‘How are you? It’s been ages since I saw you at Easter.’

Van crouches down to speak to Ellie’s son. My friend notices and introduces them.

‘This is Thomas,’ she says.

‘Hi, Thomas,’ Van responds.

‘Have you been busy today?’ I ask Ed with a smile while this is going on.

‘Not too bad.’

‘You’re not missing me, then?’

‘You were only here two days ago.’ His warm brown eyes are amused. ‘Ask me next week.’

Van stands back up as another customer comes through the door – Brooke!

‘Hey!’ she cries as I hurry to embrace her. She’s brought her brother Brad’s seven-year-old daughter, Megan.

‘Thank you so much for coming!’

‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’

I turn and widen my eyes at Ed. ‘This is Brooke,’ I say significantly.

‘Hello,’ she chirps, giving him a wave.

‘Nice to meet you,’ he replies.

‘Brad’s parking the car,’ Brooke tells me as Ed starts tidying up behind the till. ‘He’s come with Lisa and Emily.’ Lisa is Brad’s wife and Emily is their younger daughter – she’s four. ‘We passed Christopher and Theresa on their way here, too.’

I’m blown away by all of the support. Even some of Dad’s old friends come, including Steven and Linzie from the farm.

‘Your father would have been so proud of you,’ Linzie says to me, before pressing Van’s hand and adding, ‘both.’

That makes us a little emotional.

Mostly, though, it feels as though we’re having a party. The bookshop is crowded and the atmosphere is buzzing. A few locals come in to get their books signed, some of whom had bought them earlier in the week and were waiting for Van. I’m so proud to see him signing his name, and the day is right up there with some of the happiest of my life. I only wish Dad were here.

Afterwards, we decide to head across the road to the pub for a celebratory drink.

‘Come,’ I urge Ed.

He shakes his head. ‘I’ve got to shut up shop.’

‘Can’t Kiran do it?’ She’s his Saturday staff – I cover for her occasionally when she can’t come in and she’s covering for me while Van and Libby are here. She’s a primary school teacher, so she was happy to pull in some extra cash over the holidays.

‘I’ll see you next Sunday, okay?’ he replies with a small smile.

I try not to appear too disheartened, but I can’t help it. ‘If you change your mind…’

‘I know where you are,’ he finishes my sentence.

‘Ed not coming?’ Van asks as we leave.

‘No, he can’t.’

He slips his arm around my waist as we cross the road, but I cast a disappointed look back over my shoulder at the shop. It won’t be the same without Ed.

Our first few days together pass by in a blur. Van and Libby take a while to get over their jet lag – Libby fares better than her father – but by Wednesday, we’re in the swing of things.

Libby comes into the bathroom in the morning while I’m doing my hair. We’re off to the Minack Theatre shortly for a children’s storytelling session.

‘Can I brush your hair for you?’ she asks.

‘You can if I can do yours?’ I reply with a smile.

We go through to the kitchen and I pull up a chair at the table, sitting down and handing her a brush. She tentatively drags it through my shoulder-length locks, gradually getting more confident with her strokes.

‘I can’t do this with Mum’s hair,’ she confides.

‘Does she still have dreadlocks?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’ She keeps brushing. ‘I’m going to be a hairdresser when I grow up.’

‘Cool.’

Sitting there, staring out of the window at the retreating tide, I experience a feeling of déjà vu. When I was a child, Ruth used to brush my hair for me while I sat in this very same chair. It was one of the times I felt closest to her.

Ruth is still in my thoughts when Libby and I come to swap places. Libby is abnormally quiet and I think she likes me playing with her hair. I style it in a fishtail plait for her, feeling a swell of love for this little girl who isn’t mine. When I’m done, I press a kiss to the top of her head and she looks up and smiles at me. I’ve always wanted a daughter. I try not to dwell on the sadness I feel, knowing that I’ll never have one of my own. I only see Libby for a few short weeks a year, if I’m lucky – how could she ever be a substitute for the real thing?

The Minack Theatre is built from stone on the edge of a high cliff, its stepped seats climbing backwards from the stage below. Behind the stage is the most breathtaking backdrop you could imagine: to put it simply, sea and sky. It’s a slightly overcast day, but the sun is trying its hardest to burn through the clouds and blast the grey from the normally deep-blue ocean. Fishing boats and naval ships pass by on the horizon, and colourful wildflowers and unusual-looking succulents burst out from the cracks and crevices. The sound of jaunty music coming from big speakers mingles with the babble of excited children and the cry of swooping seagulls.

Amazingly, the storytelling session is about the different types of fairy, and Libby and Luke keep glancing at us with incredulity as the exuberant performer introduces puppet versions of Spriggens, Knockers, Brownies and Hedgerow fairies, not to mention Piskies. All five fairy types have featured in our books.

I watch Libby laughing her head off, and feel wave upon wave of love.

When Van told me that Sam was pregnant, I died a little, knowing that he was about to become a father to someone else’s child. At that moment, on the plane, I thought he would be lost to me forever. I felt numb the entire time I was in Adelaide and Port Lincoln. On my return home, I found solace in Nick, but when I discovered that I was pregnant, my heart broke all over again.

I wanted Van to be the father.

And I wished that I were the mother of his child, not Sam.

Our lives would be far easier now if our children belonged to both of us and only us. That much is obvious.

But then Libby wouldn’t be Libby.

And Luke wouldn’t be Luke.

They are who they are – a combination of Van and Sam, and Nick and me – and when I think about the times I wished that Sam and Nick weren’t a part of their make-up, I feel cold all over.

It has also occurred to me, in my bleakest moments, that without Sam on the scene, Van would be free to take Libby from Australia. But the very fact that I could even imagine a child losing her mother, or having to leave behind her two half-siblings, fills me with the deepest sense of shame.

I will always wish that Van and I could spend more time together, but not at the expense of our children or their other parents.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand Ruth’s death or Dad’s cancer, but when it comes to Van and me, and Libby and Luke, I’m at peace with the paths we’ve walked.

I put my arms around our children and hug them close.

It absolutely tips it down on Thursday and Friday, and Saturday morning is windy and overcast, but as the day progresses, the wind dies down, and I am thrilled when we wake up on Sunday to blue skies. It’s perfect barbecue weather.

Van helps prepare the salads and marinades while the kids play together. He’s a great cook, a skill he developed during the years he worked on a tuna boat with little else to entertain him on the long, slow journeys back from the open ocean with a cage full of fish. He works on a tugboat now, which suits his current lifestyle better. He’s climbed up the ranks from deckhand to tugboat apprentice mate, and is well on his way to becoming captain one day. I’m very proud of him.

Ellie and Liam arrive first, with Thomas and Ciara. I wrestle four-month-old Ciara away from her mother and we head outside to the patio. Van puts up the umbrella so Ciara is under the shade, and then we watch as a panicked Liam runs after two-year-old Thomas down the steep hill.

‘This is how it’s going to be for the whole day, isn’t it?’ Ellie says resignedly as Van turns around to bang on the annexe window.

‘Libby!’ he calls. She and Luke have turned the space into a playroom and it’s currently full of Lego.

‘Yeah?’ she calls back.

‘Can you come and babysit for a bit?’

I expect to hear grumbling, as I’m sure I’d get from Luke, but she pops her head around the side of the building a moment later, a cheeky grin on her face. ‘How much will you pay me?’

‘Does your mother pay you?’ he asks drily.

‘No.’ She shrugs and grins.

‘You said you’re missing Jake, so go and play with Thomas.’

Aside from Libby’s half-sister, Brittney, who’s now seven, Sam also has a son from a third relationship, Jake, age two. She’s still with Jake’s father and Van says he wouldn’t be surprised if there were more children on the horizon. Apparently, Libby is a brilliant older sibling.

She yells over her shoulder at Luke. ‘Let’s roll down the hill!’

I shake my head with despair as my son tears out of the building.

‘Come on, Thomas, you want to roll down the hill with us?’ Libby asks, bouncing on her feet.

‘At least the tide’s out,’ Van comments.

‘Do you remember trying to wash off that mud?’ I ask, prompting him to flash me a rueful smile. I go back to something he said a moment ago. ‘Did Libby tell you she’s missing Jake?’

‘Yeah, a bit. Although I imagine Sam is missing Libby more. Libby plays with Jake all the time – Sam says she’s a godsend.’

I don’t like to think of Libby pining for her siblings back home – I know she’s very close to Brittney, too.

I’d hoped for siblings for Luke, not just for now, but for when he’s older, with children of his own. I never had aunts and uncles – both my parents were only children – and my grandparents on either side died young. I’m glad I can consider Nick’s parents a part of my own extended family, because the only blood relative I have now, aside from Luke, is my mother.

‘You okay?’ Ellie asks me when Van and Liam retire to the bottom of the hill to catch the kids.

‘Lost in my thoughts,’ I murmur, stroking my fingers across her daughter’s super-fine, light-brown hair. I bend down and inhale. ‘Mmm.’

Ellie smiles and glances downhill at Van, her expression becoming pensive. A car crunches onto the gravel driveway, diverting me. I go to see who it is.

‘Hello!’ I cry, opening the gate and greeting Ed as he climbs out of his car. ‘It’s so good to see you.’ It really is. I’ve missed him this week – I didn’t even know how much until now.

‘Hey, you too,’ he replies with a smile as we kiss each other’s cheeks. He’s wearing shorts and a yellow polo shirt that really brings out the colour on his arms.

‘Who’s this?’ he asks, bending down to peer at the baby I’m still holding.

‘Ciara.’

‘Ellie’s daughter,’ he realises. ‘I couldn’t see her properly last weekend when she was in the carrier.’

‘I know, I snaffled her today before Ellie could lock her up again.’

‘She’s gorgeous.’ He nods at my hair. ‘Very Princess Leia.’

I laugh. ‘Libby’s work. She’s taken to styling it every morning. I can’t say no.’

I currently have two blonde buns fixed to either side of my head.

‘Suits you,’ he says with a grin, moving past me to the boot of his car. He brings out a six-pack of beer and a bottle of Prosecco.

‘Ooh,’ I joke warily, taking the bottle from him. ‘This could be dangerous.’

He grins and I’m disturbed to acknowledge that the edgy feeling has started back up.

It’s the dimple, I tell myself, remembering my teenage crush on Drew. I always was a sucker for one.

‘How’s work been this week?’ I ask.

‘Fine,’ he replies, slamming the boot.

‘Missing me yet?’ I josh, jigging Ciara in my arms as she starts making chatty baby noises.

‘I’m just about coping,’ he replies drily.

I laugh and turn towards the gate, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the sight of Van on the patio, staring at us with an odd look on his face. He smiles and comes forward to shake Ed’s hand, and they exchange perfectly pleasant greetings.

‘I’ll stick these in the kitchen,’ Van says, taking possession of the six-pack. ‘There are some more on ice – want one?’ he calls over his shoulder at Ed.

‘Sure, thanks.’

Ed goes over to say hi to Luke and the others, but something makes me tag after Van.

‘You okay?’ I ask once we’re alone. Ciara doesn’t count, although she’s still making noises and I’m not entirely convinced they’re happy ones.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ he replies, not meeting my eyes as he takes the Prosecco from me.

‘Are you sure?’ I force out the question.

It’s a while before he looks at me, but when he does, the tension I’m already feeling racks up a notch. His expression is impenetrable. What is he thinking? I’m not sure I want to know. If Van becomes possessive around Ed, it’ll make things incredibly difficult.

‘I’m fine,’ he repeats quietly.

‘Van…’ I murmur, jigging Ciara a bit more purposefully. ‘Please don’t worry. We’re just friends.’ As soon as the statement is out of my mouth, I regret it. I can’t believe I just put it out there like it’s an issue. But how can I not address his fears when he’s looking at me like this? It’s not anger, or jealousy, it’s something else.

‘I know you are,’ he says, shaking his head and glancing at Ciara, who definitely needs her mummy now. ‘Sorry, I just felt a bit strange, seeing you guys coming in through the gate.’

‘Strange how?’

He shrugs and looks away.

I touch his arm. ‘Please try to explain.’

‘I don’t know. Like someone had walked over my grave.’

I stare at him with dismay and then Ciara starts to cry in earnest.

‘I’m all right. Really,’ he says firmly, kissing my temple. ‘Take her back to Ellie. I’ll be out in a sec.’

I don’t want to leave him, but I do.

Brooke arrives soon afterwards, so I’m distracted with welcoming her, but I’m attuned to where Van is at all times. He actually seems okay, and when he fires up the barbecue and starts grilling the meat, Ed and Liam hang with him, drinking beers and chatting. The kids have taken Thomas into the annexe and we can keep an eye on them through the window, and Ciara has fallen asleep in her pram, so my friends and I are able to sit in the sunshine and catch up on each other’s news. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking Brooke what she thinks of Ed. They said polite ‘hello again’s, but are yet to have a proper conversation.

Van laughs at something Ed says, drawing my attention back to him.

He seems relaxed and happy, which in turn relaxes me.

It’s strange – the boy I grew up with was often jealous and possessive, but the man before me is more mellow. When did he change? Somehow I’ve missed seeing that happen. I’ve missed so much.

It occurs to me, in a surreal way, that I might not know Van very well. When I calculate the time I’ve actually spent in his presence since those years we lived together as children, I’m shocked to discover that it amounts to less than eight months.

I wonder if Van and I would’ve changed if we’d had more time together, if we’d been able to live like a normal couple. Would we have grown into different people than we are now? Or are we who we were always meant to be?

In my efforts to get Brooke and Ed talking, I end up sitting between Van and Ed, with Brooke opposite Ed. Thomas is secured to a chair with a booster seat at the end between Van and Ellie, and Libby and Luke are on a picnic rug, but it’s still a squeeze around the bench table with six adults.

‘What do you do, Brooke?’ Ed asks conversationally.

‘I’m an interior designer,’ she replies.

‘Do you run your own business or…?’

‘That’s the plan,’ she says. ‘I’ve got to start from scratch now that I’ve moved back, so if you know of anyone…’

‘I’ll keep you in mind,’ he says. ‘Have you got a business card?’

‘Yes, in my purse. I’ll get one for you later.’ She smiles and I knock Ed’s knee under the table.

Nice one, pal.

He knocks mine in return.

Back off, buster.

I try to keep a straight face.

‘So you own that sweet bookshop we went to last weekend?’ Brooke continues with their chat.

‘Yep.’ Ed nods.

‘What’s it like being Nell’s boss?’ she asks with a grin, forking a tiny mound of couscous into her mouth.

Ed chuckles. ‘Sometimes it feels like it’s the other way around.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I demand to know. ‘Are you saying I’m bossy?’

Everyone laughs, except for Ed.

‘No, I’m saying you’re good at what you do. It’s a compliment,’ he adds, giving me a sideways smile before returning his attention to Brooke. ‘Did you know that we met as kids?’ He waggles his thumb at Van and me.

‘No?’ Brooke cocks an eyebrow, intrigued.

‘My parents and I stayed at a cottage up in the village. The day we came to collect the keys, Nell and Van had caught a duckling.’

Libby’s ears prick up from over on the picnic rug. ‘Really, Dad?’

‘Yep.’ Van nods at her.

‘Van heard her cheeping and ran inside to tell me,’ I say. ‘Our dog Scampi was going absolutely bonkers.’ I smile at Van. ‘Your mum was working, so we didn’t want to disturb her. We took the rowboat out by ourselves – we were only ten.’ I turn back to the rest of the table.

‘Can we take the rowboat out on our own?’ Libby interrupts excitedly.

‘No.’ Van’s reply is abrupt and final.

She and Luke grumble to each other as I carry on. ‘We had this race against time to catch the little thing before the tide went out again and we got banked. We were half successful. We caught the duckling, but had to climb out and walk home, leaving Platypus – our boat – tied to a tree. Van’s mum was so cross. Poor Ed was standing up here with his parents when we emerged, looking like mud monsters. You weren’t too freaked out though, were you?’ I grin at Ed.

‘Not at all,’ he replies with a smile. ‘I wanted to be part of your gang.’

This makes me elbow Van in the ribs, remembering how unwelcoming he was that day.

‘Yeah, all right,’ he mutters under his breath.

‘I remember telling Van that you reminded me of the boy from The NeverEnding Story.’

‘Which one?’ Brooke asks.

‘Bastian, the one who reads the book. Van used to remind me of Atreyu. We’d been to watch the movie only weeks before.’

Van shakes his head with amusement and Ed laughs.

‘So you pegged me as a book geek, even then,’ Ed says.

‘You’re hardly a geek,’ Brooke chips in, causing me to knock Ed’s knee again. He doesn’t knock mine back this time.

‘Nell said you have a sailing boat?’ Brooke prompts him.

Ed shrugs. ‘A small one.’

‘We should all go out in it sometime.’

He grins and shakes his head. ‘It really is a small one – two-person.’

‘Oh.’ She giggles.

I wait for him to invite her out – just her – but he doesn’t.

How could they not fancy each other? Brooke is stunning and Ed is… Well, he’s just… lovely.

At that moment, Ciara wakes up. ‘I’ll get her.’ I climb out awkwardly from between the two men.

Ellie opens her arms, but I nod at her plate. ‘You finish up, I’m happy.’

She pulls a worried face. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely.’ I stay on my feet, patting Ciara’s back and shushing her.

‘Aw, are you getting broody again?’ Brooke teases me knowingly.

I feel a pang, but force a smile. ‘It’s hard not to with this one.’

‘I would take her for a bit, but I’m not very good with babies,’ Brooke says.

‘You’re great with your brother’s kids!’ I protest.

‘Only now they’re older. Babies scare me. I’m not sure how I’d ever manage one of my own.’

‘It’s different when they’re your own,’ I reply, kissing Ciara’s temple.

The next day, we all get up and out of the house early to take the kids to Holywell Bay Beach, which is about an hour away on the north coast. It isn’t far from Newquay and can get busy in the summer, but we’re taking a picnic and plan to spend the whole day there.

A freshwater stream spills out to sea from the rural inland and we walk beside it until Libby and Luke can resist no longer, taking off their shoes and wading through the water. The stream hugs grassy slopes on one side and on the other is the beach itself. A couple of children are already building sandcastles on the riverbanks while their parents hammer brightly striped wind shelters into the sand.

The main beach is deceptively big – almost a mile of golden sand – but it’s hidden from view behind high sand dunes. We dump our gear and climb up to check out the view, weaving our way between huge tufts of marram grass. Van has brought the kids’ boogie boards – I reminded him what we used to do at this beach as children. When we reach the top of a steep, sandy incline, Van hands Luke his board and, without delay, launches himself from the top on Libby’s. Luke swiftly follows suit with a yell, and I watch and laugh as they belly-slide on their boards the whole way down. Libby laughs too, but she’s also jumping up and down with annoyance at her father’s impertinence.

‘Sorry, Libs,’ Van says on his return, sheepishly handing over her board. She promptly snatches it and takes off, squealing.

I’m so happy to see Van in this lighter mood. He was quiet last night, going to bed early with what he claimed was an alcohol-induced headache.

‘They’re going to be knackered tonight,’ I comment as we perch at the top of the dune and watch the kids make a full descent.

He doesn’t answer, his eyes on Luke and Libby as they turn around and start the long trek back up again.

‘Are you feeling all right? Not hungover, are you?’

‘No, I’m fine,’ he replies, scratching his beard. ‘Beers in the daytime always knock me out.’

‘You had fun, though, right?’

‘Yeah.’

But he hesitated before answering.

‘Are you okay?’

He sighs, his lips turning down at the corners. ‘You don’t have to keep asking.’

‘I’m worried about you.’

‘All right, kids?’ he shouts. ‘Gonna go again?’

Luke and Libby are huffing and puffing as they slip and slide over the sand, but they laugh and nod.

We wait until they’ve reached the top and shot off down the dune again before continuing with our conversation.

‘Yesterday was great,’ Van surprises me by saying. ‘Everyone enjoyed themselves and I really like your friends.’

‘I’m so relieved to hear you say that.’ It’s not an understatement. ‘Libby was fantastic with Thomas, wasn’t she? I think Ellie and Liam were blown away by her.’

‘Yeah, she’s a good girl,’ he replies fondly. ‘And Thomas is a cute kid.’

He seems to be making an effort to chat, which is probably why I start rambling.

‘Brooke was funny, refusing to hold Ciara, but I was pleased when she remembered to give Ed her card. Hopefully, something will come out of that connection.’

‘Mmm, it must be hard to start from scratch with a new business,’ he muses.

‘I thought they got on well, though, don’t you? It’s amazing that she’s moved back here and they’re both single.’

It’s a moment before he speaks, and when he does, he sounds cynical. ‘You can give up on that one.’

‘Well, maybe it won’t work out for them straight away,’ I continue as he lifts his hand to wave at the kids. ‘I mean, he’s not even divorced yet, but he will be soon. If they see each other a few times—’

‘It’s not going to happen, Nell,’ he cuts me off gruffly.

I shoot him a look. ‘What makes you say that?’

He pauses. ‘Because Ed is in love with you.’

The colour drains from my cheeks. He’s still staring at the kids and they’re almost upon us now.

‘Go on, off you go again,’ he urges them, and there’s no trace of anger or anguish in his voice. They set off again, laughing.

Van turns to look at me. I push my flyaway hair off my face and realise my hands are shaking. I feel like I could throw up.

‘It’s all right,’ he murmurs and his voice is gentle.

Now I can’t meet his eyes.

‘How can you say that?’ I can barely get the words out past the lump in my throat.

‘Because it’s true,’ he replies softly.

I shake my head, but I can’t deny it, not the way I adamantly want to. Deep down, I think I’ve known that Ed has feelings for me. But I haven’t been able to bear facing up to the fact that there may be consequences.

I force myself to look at Van. ‘What do you want me to do? Do you want me to leave my job?’

‘Of course not!’ he scoffs.

I shake my head, my eyes stinging with tears. ‘You’re so different to how you used to be.’

He leans back on his elbows. ‘You mean I’m no longer a jealous prick?’

I can’t even find the will to laugh at that comment.

‘I’ve grown up, Nell,’ he mutters. ‘Things aren’t so black and white, any more, not like they were when we were kids.’ He reaches across and rubs my back. I’m still sitting rigidly upright. ‘It’s all right,’ he says. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you or make you feel uncomfortable. But it’s hard for me not to say anything, okay? It’s given me pause for thought.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replies simply, his brow knotted together as we stare at each other. ‘But it’s going to be okay.’

My eyes fill with tears.

‘Hey.’ He leans forward and cups the back of my head, drawing me in for a kiss.

My head is all over the place as our lips meet.

We break apart as the kids return.

‘One last time and then we’ll take those to the water,’ Van tells Luke and Libby, getting to his feet. ‘Come on.’ He pulls me up, but doesn’t let go of my hand, and it’s impossible not to laugh as we run down the sand dune together.

Van discourages me from talking about Ed again that week, and as I don’t want to spoil the short time we have together, I’m content to obey his request. But on Friday night, Kiran, the person who’s covering for me at Dragonheart, calls me at home.

‘I’m so sorry to bother you,’ she says in a wretched voice. ‘But Ed was off work today with the flu and now I’ve come down with a vomiting bug. He says he’ll go in tomorrow, but he sounds awful. He didn’t want me to trouble you, but it seems crazy, him working if he’s still ill. There’s no chance you could cover for us, is there?’

‘Of course I can,’ I reply without hesitation. It’s Saturday, our busiest day. The shop is just about manageable with one person, but one person ill would be a living nightmare for them. ‘I’ll let Ed know,’ I tell Kiran. ‘You go and rest up, okay? I hope you don’t suffer too badly.’

‘Thank you, I really appreciate this.’

Van supports my decision. ‘We’ll have a local day. The kids could probably do with a chilled one.’

‘The traffic is rubbish on Saturdays anyway,’ I point out as I pick up my mobile, preparing to text Ed the plan.

I’m actually looking forward to a day at work after two weeks off. Usually, Ed is there in the mornings, and I’m not comfortable acknowledging how much I miss seeing his friendly face as I unlock the door and enter the dark, empty shop. But my heart feels fuller as I breathe in the familiar smell and set about opening up, stocking the shelves with fresh new books and replenishing the till.

We have a few busy periods throughout the day, but all in all it’s nothing I can’t handle.

At three thirty, Ed calls.

‘Hey, how are you feeling?’

‘A lot better,’ he replies.

He doesn’t sound it. ‘I hope you’re in bed.’

‘Sort of. I’ll come in shortly to relieve you so you can head off early.’

‘That’s bonkers,’ I snap. ‘Stay where you are. Do you need anything? I could pick you up some soup or bread or whatever on my way back to the car?’

‘No, you’ve already done enough. You sure you don’t mind staying until closing time?’

‘Of course not. Two more hours isn’t going to make a difference.’

There’s silence on the other end of the line. ‘Thanks, Nell,’ he says eventually. ‘I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.’

That suddenly feels like a very long time away.

On impulse, I text Van to ask what he thinks about me dropping some supplies to Ed’s on my way home. I immediately regret putting that on him, and the regret strengthens during the next twenty minutes that he doesn’t reply. But then my phone buzzes and I snatch it up: ‘Go for it. All good here x’

I don’t tell Ed that I’m coming until I’m almost on his doorstep.

He opens the door, looking slightly bewildered. His milk-chocolate hair is flat on one side and sticking up on the other and his tanned jaw is tinged even darker in colour with two-day-old stubble. He’s wearing a crumpled, soft-looking light-grey T-shirt. My heart goes out to him.

‘Hey.’ My tone is full of sympathy. ‘How are you feeling?’

He rubs the back of his neck and nods. ‘Yeah. Okay.’

‘Can I come in?’

He opens the door wider for me to pass. He’s turned his battered brown leather sofa into a makeshift bed, dragging his pillows and duvet out from his bedroom. Aw, Ed… I hate to think of him having no one to look after him while he’s ill.

The modern kitchen is open-plan, separated from the living room by an island unit. I walk over and put the shopping bags down.

‘Have you eaten anything?’

‘Toast.’

‘How about some chicken noodle soup?’ I offer with a smile, pulling out a sachet.

‘I’ll do it, you get home.’

‘Sit down,’ I say firmly. ‘It’s nice to have a break from the mayhem.’

He pulls up a stool at his island unit while I fill the kettle and switch it on, looking under the counter for a saucepan.

‘How’s your week been?’ he asks.

‘Nice. Busy,’ I add emphatically. ‘Lots of beach action.’

‘Do the kids surf?’ he asks.

‘Luke does a little – Nick takes him out occasionally. Van’s been teaching Libby. The beaches here are a bit more forgiving than some of the reef breaks he surfs back home. I’ve been mostly chilling out on the beach with my book.’

I never did persevere with learning to surf after doing that course with Joel.

Measuring out boiling water and tipping it into the pan, I pour in the soup mixture and give it a stir. When I glance at Ed on the other side of the island unit, he’s staring at the island top, downcast.

‘You should stay warm.’ I nod at his makeshift bed. ‘I’ll bring this over.’

A look of distress passes over his features, prompting me to freeze. But then he slides down from his stool and relocates to the sofa, making me wonder what I saw. I try to ignore the niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach as I serve up his soup and carry it over.

‘This is really kind of you,’ he murmurs, accepting the bowl and spoon.

I take to his armchair. ‘I’m sure you’d do the same for me. Well, maybe you wouldn’t,’ I correct myself. ‘I live a forty-minute drive away, whereas you’re five minutes from work. It’s not exactly a hardship.’

‘I’d do the same for you,’ he agrees in a low voice, his eyes meeting mine momentarily as he blows on the hot soup lapping against the edges of his spoon.

‘Have you called Brooke, yet?’

I don’t know why I ask such a stupid question – especially not after the conversation I had earlier in the week with Van. Maybe I’m trying to make light of the situation. Maybe I’m trying to pretend that Ed and I have the easy, platonic friendship I’ve always fooled myself into believing we have. But it’s still a stupid question because I already know his answer.

‘No.’

I nod, not bothering to act surprised.

‘She reminded me a bit of Tasha,’ he divulges.

‘No!’ Now I’m surprised. ‘In what way?’

‘Some of her mannerisms… Her long blonde hair…’

‘I have blonde hair.’

He lets out a small snort of amusement. ‘That would be about all you have in common.’

‘So, it’s a “no” for poor Brooke, then?’

‘I don’t think she’ll be single for long,’ he says drily.

‘No, you’re right about that.’

Ed nods at some papers on the coffee table in front of me.

‘What’s this?’ I ask, picking them up.

‘Settlement papers,’ he replies. ‘Tasha wants half of the business.’

‘What? But she’s never done a day’s work in it! Or for it. It’s nothing to do with her!’ I’m outraged.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he replies darkly. ‘What’s mine is hers, apparently.’ He pauses. ‘What she’s really after is the house.’

‘Is she even planning on staying in Cornwall?’

‘I doubt it. She’ll sell up as soon as all of this is settled, but that’s not the way she’ll play it if we go to court.’ He sighs. ‘I really don’t want to go to court.’

‘What will you do?’ I ask worriedly.

‘I think I’ll give her my share of the house.’

‘And keep the bookshop?’

He nods.

‘Surely the house is worth more,’ I say with a frown. ‘I hope you’ve got a good lawyer.’

He stares at me directly. ‘I just want to be rid of her, Nell, so I can start again.’

The look in his eyes makes that funny feeling kick in again. It’s disconcerting.

He sighs and puts his bowl back on the coffee table, then nods towards the door. ‘You should get home to Van.’

‘He’ll be all right with the kids for a bit longer.’ I’m fighting an overwhelming urge to get up and give him a hug.

What is this?

I’ve always had a protective personality. I mothered Van when we were younger and I feel very protective of Ed, too.

I know in my heart that what Van said is true: Ed has feelings for me that go beyond friendship. I think I’ve known it for a while.

So what am I doing here?

Encouraging him?

Because that would be cruel, and I’ve never considered myself to be cruel.

The truth is I wanted to come. I wanted to care for him.

I wanted to see him.

Ed interrupts my thoughts. ‘Are you okay?’

But my thoughts continue to assault me.

Van must’ve known that. Why didn’t he stop me?

An uneasy feeling settles over me.

‘I think I’d better go,’ I mumble, to his surprise. I’d only just said I’d stay. ‘No, I’ll see myself out.’ I stop him in his tracks as he makes a move to get up.

‘Nell?’

‘I’m fine. Give me a call if you need me on Monday, okay?’

He nods. His confused expression is the last thing I see before I walk out.

The kids are already in bed by the time I get back to the cottage, although I very much doubt they’re sleeping. We don’t mind them whispering to each other for a bit, as long as they don’t squabble. On the whole, they get on well, but by the end of each day, Van and I are hankering for some peace and quiet.

I find Van in the kitchen with a beer, sitting and staring out of the window at the darkening night.

‘Hey,’ he says when he notices me.

‘Hi.’

He pushes his chair out from the table, not quite managing the knack of silence as he gets up. I flinch and slip my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his broad chest. He holds me as I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

Our lovemaking that night is bittersweet, and I’m teetering on the brink of tears the whole time. We’ve now passed the halfway point of our month together and every day is bringing us closer to him going home.

Libby is also quieter than her usual self that week. On Thursday morning, I come out of the bathroom to see Van hugging her in the hallway. Luke, I gather, is over in the annexe, waiting for her to go and play.

‘Everything okay?’ I ask with concern.

‘Missing her mum,’ Van replies in a husky voice, as Libby lets out an anguished sob. ‘It’s the longest she’s been away from home.’

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ I say softly, rubbing her back. Van’s blue eyes are pained as they lock with mine.

Aside from the text I sent Ed on Monday, asking if he was back at work, and the reply I received saying that he was, we haven’t had any contact with each other, so I’m tense when we go to the pub across the river for Sunday lunch and Ed pulls up outside with his sailing boat on a trailer.

‘There’s Ed!’ Luke cries out.

Van gets up from the bench table where we’re sitting and crosses the road to where Ed is climbing out of his car.

‘All right, mate,’ I hear him say, shaking Ed’s hand. ‘You need some help with this?’

Ed glances across the road at me and lifts his hand. I wave back and force a smile, hearing him ask Van if he’s finished eating before accepting his offer.

‘Mum, can I go out on the boat with Ed?’ Luke asks me animatedly.

‘Wait and see,’ I reply.

‘Can I get down from the table?’

‘Have you finished?’ I nod at his almost empty plate.

‘Yeah, I’m full.’

‘Okay. Careful crossing the road!’ I caution as Libby also jumps to her feet, clambering her knife and fork together on her plate.

‘I’m full, too,’ she says.

They’ve been dying to go back to the beach ever since their food arrived.

I’m not sure why I’m still sitting here, frankly. Everyone else has left, but I’m rooted to the spot, watching as Ed and Van work together to get the boat to the water. Luke bounces up and down on the pebbled sand near the shore and lifts his hands over his head in a victory cheer at something Ed says, before they both glance my way.

Ed points at Luke, followed by his boat, then holds his hands palms-up in a question.

I nod, flashing him the okay sign.

Libby bounces on her feet. The waitress comes to clear the table and I drag myself to a standing position, knowing that if I remain here now, it’s going to seem odd. I cross the road and jump down onto the beach. The sun comes out from behind the clouds and strikes the water right in front of me, making it sparkle brilliant white, like cut glass under a strobe light. Shielding my eyes, I arrive in time to see Ed returning from the direction of the boat-hire place with two children’s life jackets.

‘Hi.’ I smile at him.

‘Hey.’ He smiles in return, handing Van one of the life jackets for Libby.

‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ I ask as Luke slips on the other.

‘Not at all.’ He bends down to adjust Luke’s straps, making sure it’s a snug fit.

‘Only for a little while, okay, kids?’ Van orders firmly when they’re ready. ‘Make sure you both do exactly what Ed says or you’ll end up in the water. By that, I mean I’ll dunk you in myself if you annoy him.’

Luke nods solemnly, while Libby giggles, not taking the threat at all seriously.

Van and I stand on the jetty and watch as they set off, the small white boat tilting to the side in the wind, its white sails billowing out as it glides across the river. The children’s laughter carries across the water towards us.

‘I don’t understand,’ I say in not much more than a whisper.

Van’s attention is fixed on our children, but emotion has gathered in his eyes.

If he believes that Ed is in love with me, if there’s even a tiny chance that he thinks those feelings might be in any way reciprocated, why is he being so amiable, so helpful, so nice?

‘He’s a good guy,’ he replies in a low voice.

‘So?’ I can’t keep the angst from mine.

He glances at me and there’s a world of regret, love, tenderness and acceptance. ‘This is no life, Nell.’

I let out a sob.

‘Shh.’ He takes me in his arms. ‘Stop. We’ll talk about it later.’

I don’t want to talk about it later. I don’t want to talk about it at all. In fact, I point-blank refuse that night when the kids are in bed, making frantic, heartfelt love to him in an attempt to bring us closer, to help us reconnect. But it’s there, between us, this subject, and although he’s not pushing me to talk about it, I know that he will. It’s only a matter of time. Time that is swiftly running out.

It happens at Glendurgan on the last day of their holiday. The kids are tearing around the maze, their heads bobbing up and down above the low cherry laurel hedge as they squeal with laughter. I’m remembering Van and me as children, when Dad used to work here, and I know that Van is lost in the past, too.

He reaches across, takes my hand and tells me that he loves me.

‘Don’t say it,’ I beg.

‘We gave it a good go.’

‘Please.’

‘Don’t cry,’ he implores.

‘How can you ask me not to cry?’ I gasp.

‘Hold it together for them.’

His words help quell the onslaught of my emotions, but I resent him for saying it.

‘Hear me out,’ he asks as I bite my lip. ‘We’ve done five years of this, and we’ve got at least another eight more on the cards. I can’t leave Libby before she’s eighteen.’

‘I know that,’ I interrupt. ‘I understand. I wouldn’t leave Luke, either.’

‘What we have is a lonely existence, Nell. Not just for you.’

I’m shocked. ‘You want to date other women?’

He doesn’t answer.

‘Is there anyone else?’ I ask.

‘Of course there isn’t,’ he snaps.

‘But there could be,’ I realise, dully.

‘We’re thirty-five,’ he says. ‘I know you want more children.’

My heart contracts.

‘I can’t give them to you.’

‘I’ll make do,’ I tell him desperately.

‘I don’t want you to have to make do!’ Van raises his voice, prompting a couple nearby to glance over at us. ‘I want to give you everything, but I can’t.’

He takes me by my arm and guides me away so we have more privacy. I stare down at the giant gunnera plants nearby and wish that I could hide under them, pretending to play with the fairies, as we did as children. But this is no fairy tale.

‘I love you,’ he says, his expression fierce. ‘I’ve loved you as my sister, I’ve loved you as my friend, and God knows I love you as my lover. But…’ He looks towards the maze, where Libby is squealing with laughter. ‘I love her more.’ His voice chokes up and tears fill his eyes, something I see a second before my own vision turns blurry.

‘You know I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ I sniff as I delve into my bag and pull out tissues for both of us. We turn away from the maze to dry our eyes and it hurts to witness his pain, as it always has.

‘You deserve more,’ he says, taking a ragged breath. ‘You deserve so much more. Ed could give that to you.’

‘But I love you! I’ve always loved you! I will always love you.’

‘I will always love you, too. That doesn’t mean there’s not room in our hearts to love someone else, to start something new, something that will last. It’s too hard, this living in limbo that we’re doing. I know we could carry on like this, but I don’t want you to give up some of the best years of your life when I know how much you’re missing out on. Your dad never gave anyone else a chance, and he was lonely, Nell. Maybe you couldn’t see it because you didn’t want to see it, but you weren’t enough for him, however hard you tried to be. You were the best daughter he could’ve hoped for, but he needed more. I don’t want you to end up like that.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘Sometimes two people are meant to be together. Sometimes they’re not.’

‘Well, in this case, we are,’ I state passionately.

He stares at me for a long moment and I feel like I’m sinking, drowning.

‘Five years from now…’

‘Don’t,’ I cut him off. ‘Don’t say those words to me.’

‘I’m letting you go, Nell,’ he whispers.

‘You can’t,’ I reply. ‘I’m yours.’