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‘Well, I’m taking this afternoon off to be with Mum. She’s catching an early train.’

Roo nodded approval. ‘Good. You need a break. It’s been absolutely manic lately. Thank God the season is almost over – just Christmas to prepare for now.’

Zennor smiled, a rarity over the past few days.

‘How’s Sybil?’ Roo asked. ‘I sent flowers.’

‘That’s kind of you. She’s on the mend,’ Zennor said, feeling guilty that she hadn’t been in contact with Sybil or Matt since rushing off the previous day.

They must be so worried, yet Zennor couldn’t find a way of speaking to either of them that wouldn’t end in recrimination.

She’d told Matt she loved him. She’d opened herself up against all her better judgement. Now, while she still loved him, she was struggling to come to terms with the secrets he’d kept from her.

She remembered the way he’d physically carried her away from the flames; away from danger. She had been angry at the time, angry and grateful – and all the conflicting emotions Matt had always incited in her.

‘Wanna talk about anything? We can shut up shop or go for a walk or a coffee?’

‘Thanks, Roo. I would talk, I really would, but I’ve got an appointment.’ She grimaced and her stomach churned.

‘Not one you’re looking forward to? Root canal? Or is it an appointment for … down there?’ She shuddered.

Zennor winced. ‘Far more painful. It’s with Trev.’

‘Oh. From the look on your face, that doesn’t sound as if it’s going to be fun. Do you need a wingwoman?’

‘Thank you, Roo. Afterwards, I really will need a hug, but then I’m going straight to collect Mum.’

‘That will be something to look forward to after … you know … whatever …’ Roo said cautiously.

‘Yes, it will be,’ Zennor replied, unable to give Roo any more detail about her meeting with Trev, largely because she had no idea how it would go. ‘I haven’t seen Mum for ages and – well, let’s just say there’s a lot we have to catch up about.’

Trev strode towards her over the lawn that once held the wedding pavilion.

Now furnished with flower tubs and fancy white iron benches, it was still used for photos. In one way, it was the last place she should be having this conversation with Trev, but she didn’t want to sully the memory of anywhere she loved. So she’d chosen a place she would never have to come back to again – the St Piran’s itself.

He reached her, face carefully creased into concern and ducked in to kiss her cheek.

She flinched away and his caring expression melted away. Was that concern even genuine? She’d spent the night struggling with what was real or pretend with so many of the people in her life. It had left her exhausted.

‘Zennor? Are you OK? What’s happened? I’ve been trying to speak to you properly since the fire. You look shattered.’

‘I’ve had a lot on my plate,’ she said briskly.

‘I bet. You must be traumatised. Is it true that one of those fire-juggling idiots caused everything? I heard one of them was drafted in at the last minute. We all know how that ends.’

He smiled but Zennor’s mouth remained in a rigid line.

‘There’s going to be an enquiry to establish exactly what happened. I don’t want to speculate.’

He snorted. ‘They need suing or locking up. You could have been killed! I almost had a heart attack when I saw that tent go up. I ran down to the beach as soon as it all kicked off. I looked everywhere for you; then someone said you’d gone to hospital with Sybil. How is she? I heard she had a very lucky escape. You tried to help her …?’

‘I did.’

‘You look shattered. The shock must have been awful.’ Trev took a step forward and reached for her again but she moved out of his reach.

‘Zennor?’ He frowned, his eyes full of hurt, or probably what he thought approximated to concern.

‘Aren’t you going to ask about Sybil? She’s the one who was hurt. She came out of hospital yesterday. I took her home. With Matt.’