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Evan Sinclair followed. His throw was gentle, almost underarm, as though he was setting something down rather than casting it away.

‘I think I want to let go of the part of me that believes I have to control everything.’ His eyes were trained on the water. ‘Not just stopping drinking… but trusting that things won’t fall apart if I don’t manage every detail.’

Oksana’s voice was quieter. ‘I want to stop feeling like I only have value when I can perform.’ Her voice shook. Her stone left her hand gently. Almost reluctantly.

Delia stepped forward, shaking out her arms as though about to go on stage. ‘I want to stop pretending I’m not terrified of becoming irrelevant,’ she declared dramatically. ‘Also, I would quite like to feel my face again.’

Laughter broke properly now.

She threw her stone, wobbling slightly on the sand as Teo instinctively stepped in to steady her. Rita watched her. Beneath the timing, the humour, the performance of it all, there was something deeper in Delia. Something she wasn’t offering yet.

Tessa stepped forward next. ‘I need to learn how to be still without thinking something bad is about to happen.’

Zenya nodded gently. ‘That was short and very sweet but well done, everyone. Let’s head back. There are pasties warming and I’ve made a chocolate log for dessert.’

‘Moonballs too,’ Rita added.

‘Who you calling moonballs?’ Gabriel laughed heartily.

‘See?’ Zenya smiled at him. ‘The magic is already working.’

As the group began to shift and help gather the blankets, the circle loosened into movement and chatter, and Rita paused only a moment longer. Then, quickly, quietly, she stepped forward and let her stone go. She thought of Thom and her quiet hope that, whatever he was wrestling with, he would always know he could trust her with the truth, and that there was nothing he could say that would make her love him any less. And what Sennen had told her about her relationship, and the doubts she’d shared. Rita hoped that whatever her eldest daughter was going through, she would have the courage to walk away if it wasn’t right for her. Plus, more importantly, trust to confide in her fully, if and whenever she needed to. Then her thoughts turned to Noa and Nathan. She hoped that one day they would understand that although she couldn’t devote every waking minute to them, her love for them was no less fierce than it had been for Sennen and Thom when they had been babies.

A flicker of calm settled over her chest, the moonlight catching her face as the tide carried the hopes and fears of everyone gently into the darkness.

THIRTY-SIX

The next morning, Rita was halfway up the path towards the hen coop, scarf pulled tight, boots crunching softly on the gravel, when her phone started to ring in her pocket. She had said to Stan and Teo that now the routine was working very well with Chloe, she was more than happy to take back her feeding duties some mornings and this was one of them. In fact, she was enjoying slipping slowly back into her old routine. She fished out her handset, glanced at the screen, and smiled before she even answered.

‘Kelly?’

‘Reet…’ came the voice immediately, breathless down the line. ‘I’m getting on the train to you tomorrow. Literally just coming for one night. Two days out of the salon this time of year is basically criminal, but honestly, with travel and everything, that’s what it’s going to have to be. I can’t be arsed to drive.’

Rita laughed, stepping carefully around a hen that was flapping her wings excitedly at her pending breakfast.

‘Don’t feel like you’ve got to come and see me; it’s a long way for just one night.’ Rita pushed open the gate to the hen run.

‘I want to come…’ Kelly tutted, as though Rita had said something ridiculous. ‘I’ve downloaded back-to-back Gavin and Stacey episodes for the journey and everything.’

‘Well, I’d better get madame’s room ready then.’

‘Honestly, leave the bedding on top and I’ll make it. I don’t want you having any extra work.’ Kelly sneezed loudly.

‘Bless you!’ Rita intercepted. ‘But don’t be bringing any germs.’

‘Probably just the dust coming up from my fanjita, that was.’ Rita couldn’t stop laughing. ‘I’ve got to give those babies of yours a squeeze before they’re in secondary school. Can’t believe I haven’t been down already, to be honest.’

Rita smiled, collecting an egg and placing it carefully in the basket.

‘Well, you’re in for a treat. It’s Pete the Pilchard’s quiz night tomorrow evening and we are all going.’

‘Yeah! I can continue the imaginary affair with the randy mutton-chopped landlord.’ Then Kelly groaned loudly down the line. ‘Jesus. The hangover for the journey home.’

‘Maybe I should set some house rules. No drinking. No visitors after ten and I’ll be removing all shotguns from the premises,’ Rita replied dryly. ‘Poor Nigel the cockerel.’

‘Don’t start, Reet…’ Kelly lowered her voice, mock serious now. ‘I’ve still got PTSD from what happened. It was a terrible accident, for which I will be forever regretful.’

Rita grinned. ‘I will never not mention it, you know that.’