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‘Of her relationship with you. You were very close. She was like a surrogate mother to you.’

‘I’m not sure my mum would be happy to hear that. I suppose I look on her as a cool auntie figure.’

‘That’s a better description. I always had the feeling she was looking down on me. I didn’t live up to her idea of a partner for you. I’ve never been cool or intellectual enough.’

Zennor laughed again, even though Trev was right that Sybil had always quietly disapproved of him.

‘I can see from your face that I’m right.’

‘I wasn’t looking for an intellectual. I’m hardly one myself!’

‘But you’re clever and talented and creative whereas I … only ever had a talent for making money. That was a black mark in Sybil’s book.’

‘Have you ever thought she knew you didn’t like her and so the two of you went in with a spiral of mutual distrust?’

‘Yeah, probably, but lately … I know she’s always been supportive of you and I guess even more so after we split up. I’ve come to realise how much that means: having a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen and understand how you’re feeling. I may have been unfair to her in the past and I was genuinely concerned when I heard she had this fall. She’s not getting any younger.’

Zennor winced. ‘For God’s sake don’t let Sybil hear you say that!’

‘It’s true though – what is she? Sixty-five?’

She scoffed. ‘Sixty-two. That’s not old.’

‘No, but I know how devastated you’d be if anything happened to her.’

‘I hope that won’t be for a very long time,’ Zennor said, although Trev had lasered in on her own anxiety. She tapped her iPad. ‘So, shall we get down to business? I have another appointment in an hour.’

Trev uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. ‘First of all, as you might guess from the baby grand, I’m looking for one or more people who can play it and entertain guests on our Friday music nights.’

‘Oh, I can definitely help you with that.’

Zennor ran through the jazz pianists and similar artists they had on the books who she thought would be suitable for relaxed evenings in the hotel bar. She also suggested Trev run some drink/meal combos – Blues and Burgundy, Gin and Jazz and so on – alongside the music evenings, which had worked very well for other boutique hotels and a jazz bar in St Ives.

After he’d taken a look at some of the reels for the artistes on her iPad, Trev was interrupted by a staff member with an urgent query.

To give him some privacy and her the chance for a breather, Zennor wandered out on to the terrace. She inhaled the sea air deeply and took in the view that stretched to the island with its ancient chapel and beyond, past the surf of Porthmeor and along the coast. Shilpa’s hotel, the mermaid pool and Sybil’s were out of sight towards the west.

She risked a glance to the east, knowing what she would see on the lawn above the cliff edge and finding – nothing but neatly mown grass.

‘Are you wondering where the pavilion’s gone?’

Trev had joined her on the balcony.

‘Yes. I mean, not really. I just knew that something was different.’

‘It was taken down before I bought the place. The owners intended to get something less flimsy but they didn’t get round to it. Apparently it was always too open to the elements there anyway.’

He leaned on the rail and looked out over the sea, glistening with countless sparkles. Gulls wheeled and cried overhead. It would be an idyllic spot if it didn’t have such bittersweet associations.

He kept his eyes on the horizon. ‘It’s time to leave the past behind and make a fresh start.’

Unease tugged at her. ‘I agree. Let’s not go backwards.’

‘I’d like to tell you something. At the Magic Lantern Festival, I said that my perspective on life had shifted since I lost Mum.’

This really was a new Trev, the previously self-contained model of bravado now asking to talk about his feelings. ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘Go on, please.’

‘I know I’ve always wanted to be in control of everything in life and I’m aware – now – that being a control freak isn’t necessarily a good thing. It made me too possessive – of both the business and of you. You never needed protecting. I realise that now.’ He smiled disarmingly. ‘It took me a long time to accept that I couldn’t have done anything for Mum, even if I’d been at home when her aneurysm ruptured. I know that she would want me to get on with my life.’