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Celeste said. ‘He gave me money to have an abortion.’
    ‘Oh.’ Ben stared down at her.
    ‘I was on my maternity rotation at the time I foundout I was pregnant, babies everywhere—not that it made me want one, it terrified me actually, but…’
    ‘You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to.’
    But she did want to—lying there with her eyes closed, lost and lonely and really, really confused. Maybe, as everyone said it would, talking might help clear her head. It was worth a try, anyway, because yoga certainly hadn’t worked!
    ‘He’s married.’ She opened her eyes then and closed them—and even in that teeny space of time she saw it pass over his features. That moment where you were judged, where opinions were cast, where assumptions were made. ‘I didn’t know that he was, not that that changes anything.’
    ‘Did you go out for long?’ he wanted to know.
    ‘Three months.’ Celeste sniffed. ‘He was my first real…I just believed him. I mean, I knew why we didn’t go out much, and why we couldn’t go to each other’s homes…’
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she muttered.
    ‘So where did you go out?’
    ‘For drives, for dinner, to a hotel sometimes…’ She gazed up into his clear green eyes. ‘He’s a bit older than me, quite a bit older actually,’ Celeste said, and then she was silent for a while.
    Rightly or wrongly, he did judge—he tried not to, but he did.
    Why didn’t people think? Why were people so careless?
    And now there was this baby…
    He closed his eyes and thought of Jennifer—of the plans they had put in place, how much they had wanted a baby, and though he didn’t say a word, she could feel his disapproval.
    ‘So you’ve never made a mistake?’ she said defensively.
    ‘I’ve made plenty,’ he admitted.
    ‘But no affairs, nothing you regret.’
    ‘Oh, there’s a lot that I regret,’ Ben said.
    ‘You’re single, divorced…?’ It sounded like the questionnaire on Belinda’s dating site, and he winced inwardly.
    ‘Widowed,’ he said, and it was her turn to judge, Ben knew—he had been through it many times before.
    ‘Do you miss her a lot?’ she asked gently.
    ‘Yep,’ Ben admitted, and that was enough. He ran some sand through his hands, concentrated on the little grains instead of himself then glanced at his watch. ‘The power must be back on by now.’
    ‘So what if it is?’ Celeste smiled. ‘I’m enjoying talking—you were saying how much you miss her?’
    God, she was persistent. Really, he should stand up and leave, but she’d said so much about herself and, picking up another handful of sand, he let it run through his closed fist, and admitted some of his truth. ‘I miss it for Jennifer too.’ Her silence was patient. ‘She loved living.’ He looked out to the water and could almost see her, blonde ponytail flying as she jogged. ‘She’d be out there running or swimming now—cramming some exercise in after work.’
    ‘Was she fit?’
    ‘Very.’ Ben nodded, but there was this savage rip ofthought there because, despite doing everything right, despite her healthy lifestyle, it hadn’t counted for anything in the end.
    ‘What did she do?’
    ‘She was a doctor as well—in Emergency.’
    ‘What happened?’ Celeste asked, but Ben shook his head, not willing to go there. ‘Come on.’ It really was time to go now, and not just because he didn’t want to talk about it. He was doing her a favour. A woman in Celeste’s condition really didn’t need to hear about how Jen had died. So he held her hands and heaved her up and they walked back slowly, idly chatting about not very much at all, till Celeste wormed her way back in again.
    ‘Have you dated again—I mean since…?’
    ‘She died three, nearly four years ago,’ Ben said, answering the unspoken question.
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘A bit.’ He gave a shrug. ‘Though it was probably too soon.’
    ‘Are you still comparing them to her?’ Celeste