Outside the mistral is blowing up bigger than usual, as it did on the day I decided to stay. The dust is whipping up as I watch Stephanie, JB and Tomas walk down the drive, with their blue bags. JB is carrying Tomas. He told me Tomas and Stephanie would be fine. They’d stay with his parents until they could get something else sorted, he said, and thanked me for all I’d done. But I don’t want anything else sorted. I want them to stay here, for it to be as it has been. My own little family. Every part of me wants to shout, ‘Stop! Come back!’ But Stephanie is clearly in no mood to discuss the matter. I watch their backs as they walk to the end of the drive, a little family facing an unknown future, and my heart breaks. The wind whips up and slams the front door shut in my face.