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for the relationship—getting on well, great sex, both like running, the feeling that, as she struggled to put it to Mel, she “just couldn’t not”—the “against” list seemed overwhelming. So Elizabeth had ignored Michael’s texts—or, at least, she’d not responded to them, which didn’t stop her from reading and rereading them. She’d filled up her diary, booked some more shifts, started planning a trip of her own, and made a future with no Michael, and no space for Michael in it. She’d agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She’d persuaded herself that the last ten days—only ten days, barely enough time to decide whether you like someone, let alone anything else—had been a madness that was over.
    By the time Michael returned, Elizabeth had been so sure of her infallible heart that she had stood in the shadows by the hotel doorway and watched him get off the coach: a game of emotional dare. He had been more than she remembered him. More tanned, of course, but more imposing. More upright. More confident. Happier. She’d realized that he had no doubts about her, about them. She saw that he knew , and that was what made him aglow with something special. And in that moment she had recognized that she knew too. Unmoving, unspeaking, she had let herself love.
    He had seemed to sense her change of heart. Just as she had thought about stepping toward him, about his mouth and his hair, he had looked straight at the place she was going to step into.
    â€¢ • •
    He’d insisted on a plan. “Can’t we see how it goes?” she’d asked.
    Michael had said, “No. You can see how it goes on a picnic, you can see how it goes with a test drive, but this deserves a plan.”
    So they had made the rules. Some sort of contact—a text, an email—every day. A phone call at least once a week. No going to bed on an argument. No more than three months without seeing each other. An understanding that long-distance relationships were hard and they wouldn’t lose heart too easily or too soon. Elizabeth was to come and take a look at Throckton before the year was out. And, if they were still together in eighteen months, a serious conversation about The Future.
    â€œThis feels like quite a serious conversation about the future to me,” Elizabeth had said, and Michael had turned a solemn face to her and replied, “Elizabeth, there’s nothing wrong with serious.”
    And for a moment, falling for some guy from the other side of the planet had felt not only good, but perfectly reasonable. She had groped for that feeling as she’d watched his flight leave, but there was no finding it again until the three months were up and she was stepping onto a plane herself.

Now
    Mike,
    People are still coming, and I try to listen, and I try to talk, but I can’t seem to. Especially since the snowdrops. Mel is so good. She’s like a sort of filter; she sits next to me and touches my hand when she thinks there’s something I might want to listen to, and the rest of the time I just look at the wall. Everyone says such lovely things about you.
    Sometimes I wish everyone would go away and leave me alone, but then the thought of being alone is too much. Which is stupid, stupid, because I am alone, alone, alone all the time, because you’re not here, and you should be. You should be. You know that, don’t you?
    Blake says Kate still doesn’t remember anything after going into the water. Mel said, “Has anyone tried turning her upside down and shaking her until the memories come out? Because if they haven’t, I will.” Blake said, “Sometimes these things take time.” I said, “Mel, accidents happen. We of all people should know that, after what happened to Mum. Tires blow out.” “Yes,” she said. “I’ve never understood how you were so accepting of that