It was a relief to head out of noisy, crowded London and south to Cornwall, and Penzance. The sun shone, the countryside soon enveloped her, and her spirits rose.

She had a three hundred mile trip and it was late at night as the van bumped and shuddered down the track to the place where the cottage stood close to the sea.

It was an old-fashioned building, the ground floor taken up by one large room. At one end was a tiny kitchen and at the other end a staircase rose directly to the upper floor.

Her body ached from sitting in one position for so long, and she walked up and down, stretching and rotating her shoulders until she felt human again. After preparing a quick snack she decided to go to bed at once. The house was a little chilly and would be more cheerful in the morning.

Or perhaps it would be more cheerful when Andrew arrived. Of course he was coming, she assured herself. He’d left a question mark over his arrival, but that was because he was annoyed about her cavalier treatment. It couldn’t end like this, and if it did it was Justin Dane’s fault for making her stand him up.

Her mind resisted the idea that it was Mark’s fault. That vulnerable boy carried enough burdens already without her piling more on him. Perhaps she’d already done so, by leaving without a proper goodbye. She wasn’t sure what else she could have done, but the thought troubled her.

She thought about the way she’d fought with Justin. She hadn’t meant to fight him, but there didn’t seem any other way to communicate with this man. At least he listened while she was insulting him, even if only out of surprise.

If he’d had any decency he’d have come to the school and invited her home to say goodbye to Mark. But it clearly hadn’t occurred to him to consider his son’s feelings.

She must have been lonelier for Andrew than she realised, because she was suddenly swept by despondency. It would be better in the morning, she promised herself. On that thought she fell asleep.