Lolly shook Harper awake so early on Sunday that Harper thought there was something wrong. She could feel the weight of Hector at the end of her bed.

‘Is it Mum and Dad?’ she said sleepily.

‘No, pet, it’s tea and a sunrise.’

There was a fancy blue-and-white teapot on the balcony table, with matching cups and saucers. Lolly said that the set was her grandmother’s, and that perhaps Mae and Molly had drunk tea out of the cups.

‘I’ve been meaning to show you the sunrise from this spot all year,’ said Lolly. ‘But I never had the heart to wake you up so early. After this, we’re going to my favourite beach.’

The sky was very pretty, but Harper was quietly happy that Lolly hadn’t woken her every morning for it. From the way her grandmother was looking at it, sunrises obviously got more exciting the older you got. Harper yawned and sipped her tea. She could hardly remember not drinking tea, though she still only had one cup a day compared to Lolly’s ten. Sleepily, she thought of her library project.

Lolly threw the dregs of her first cup onto the lemon tree, and poured a second. ‘I don’t want to get all soppy, but I can’t tell you how much I’ll miss you.’

‘Lolly, I’m not disappearing on Tuesday. I’ll be down the road.’

‘I know, but it’s been special having you here. And it won’t be the same.’

‘I’ll ride over all the time,’ Harper promised.

With the three dogs in the back, Lolly and Harper drove to a place called Birdrock Beach. It was still so early that the roads were almost as quiet as they’d been in lockdown.

They threw sticks into the shallow waves and the dogs ran back and forth as if they’d never get bored. Even though Hector was the littlest, he came back with the stick the most.

‘Hector’s like a puppy today,’ said Lolly. ‘You wouldn’t think he was fourteen and got stuck in a cupboard for two days.’ Lolly threw the stick further out this time. Hector disappeared right under a wave, but then he sprang up again, ran back and dropped the stick at Harper’s feet.

Just before nine, Lolly put up a beach umbrella. She called the dogs and they shook off the sand and water and went underneath for a sleep. Dogs weren’t allowed to run around on the beach after nine.

‘Our turn now?’ said Harper, tying up her hair.

‘Not on your life!’ Lolly replied. ‘You know I can’t swim.’

‘Just a paddle. I’ll protect you.’

Harper led Lolly into the water up to her knees. It was a funny feeling being the confident one. Lolly had a nervous look about her every time a wave hit their legs. But after a few minutes, Harper caught the peaceful look on her grandmother’s face as she gazed across the water to the horizon. Lolly was still holding tight.

While Lolly gave the dogs fresh water to drink, Harper had a proper swim. She dried off while her grandmother walked to a breakfast van. Lolly brought back egg-and-bacon rolls with spicy tomato relish. Nothing on earth tasted as good as a hot breakfast after being in the sea.

When the beach started to fill up, Harper and Lolly packed up and drove home.

In the afternoon, Harper read Francis Lamb’s book, curled up on the bed with Hector. Down the hall, Lolly watched a film with Annie and Murph. It was a perfect Sunday.

Harper couldn’t get to sleep. Tuesday was her last day of Riverlark and as it was now past midnight, she was already at Monday.

She tried lights on and lights off.

Went to the kitchen to make a warm chocolate drink. Did some yoga moves that Cleo had taught her. Flipped the pillow over to the cooler side. Tried lying with her head at the other end of the bed.

At one o’clock she remembered that reading was the only thing that worked when she was like this, and she wondered why she hadn’t tried it hours ago.

She took the glasses out and looked closer at the empty case. There was something in the velvet lining that she could feel. Carefully she went around the seams to see if there was a way in. The frayed lining eased out of the join along the bottom. She poked her finger in, and was just able to pull out a small tight roll of paper.

It was a note.

Dear Will,

We are planting your glasses with the new tree at school. It was Molly’s idea. Vince got the job to plant some memorial trees, and we wanted to remember you and write you a message, even though you’ll never get it. It’s a few years since you left and we miss you, Will. Remembering always the good times at Riverlark.

Mae & Molly & Vince

Harper cried a little. If only she’d found this note sooner and shown Will. Maybe that would have made everything feel perfect. Or maybe there was no such thing as a perfect ending to a story. She rolled the note tight again and returned it to its hiding place, put the glasses inside and closed the case. She’d keep the glasses for just a little bit longer. They were never really hers.