Sometimes, the family gets too much for her to cope with. She seeks out quiet and solitude - the desire for a moment away from all that happiness too demanding to be ignored. On these occasions, Andrew knows her expression too well to ask questions and just lets her leave, politely covering her absence.

Margaret knows she has been sniping at him. She has been a complete b**** the last few days and he has absolutely no idea what's wrong. When the date itself comes around, she takes herself off into the woods. Alone, she tries to regain her peace, the calm which she has built up like a wall around her. She wants to shut off her emotions for a day: to be the ice queen, the witch who lets nothing and nobody near her. Andrew will not see her like this again - she promised herself that when she agreed to the second wedding.

Her feet lead her away from the house to the top of a small cliff which hangs over the ocean. Margaret has an uneasy relationship with the water. Knowing she cannot swim, she doesn't feel safe near it. Today, though, its vastness feels melancholy and this suits her mood to perfection.

It's the anniversary of her parent's death and while she thought that's she'd moved past that, the pain and the guilt, years ago they have come rushing back to her. She misses her parents every day, but had learnt to be content, even happy, without them. Now, confronted by this happy family she has gained, Gammy, Grace and Joe… the loss feels new again. It seems that having a real family around her, quietly accepting and loving her, has reminded her again of how much she missed out on. What that car crash robbed her of – the years of fun and laughter. How proud they were of her achievements and they hadn't even got to see her finish High School. Hell, she'd even lost the ability to reconcile herself to her parents after the massive fight they'd had just before they'd got in the car. Secretly, she'd always worried that her father's anger might have caused his death. She'd never really know.

"I'm sorry, mom, dad." She whispers into the air, trying to absolve herself.

This time, though, she cannot make the sense of loss go away. She sits for hours, reliving that time – the aftermath of her parents death, the lack of relatives to go to, living in care. The dark time that she never allows herself to think of. The time when she learnt she had to fend for herself, because nobody, nobody, could be there forever.

Just as she remembers this, she notices that dark is drawing in. The slight sense of unease that she has been feeling all day sat close to the edge of the water is getting worse. As she tries to stand and realises that pins and needles won't let her walk, she begins to feel panic.

Cursing, she shuffles further from the edge, hoping she can head back soon or night will be too far gone for her to find her way. What an irony– to finally find love and, as a result, die of exposure. The thought makes her smile with dark humour.

"Margaret!" She hears a voice, calling her name. The edge of panic in it isn't comforting, but immediately relief rushes through her.

"Over here!" Footsteps and a flashlight. "Be careful of the cliff!"

Andrew is with her a moment later. Out of breath and looking deliciously ruffled, the only thing that Margaret notices is the way his expression of relief is replaced with controlled anger.

He helps her up, silently allowing her to stamp out the pins and needles, before leading her home. She isn't inclined to speak and neither is he. Gammy is determined to fuss over her, concern brimming over, but something in the couple's expressions lead Grace to put a restraining hand on her mother-in-law's shoulder. Margaret nods her thank you before heads upstairs for a shower.

She hadn't realised how cold she was until the warm water hits her and burns. It's a good burn, though and she stays in the shower, letting her mind go blank. When she gets out, Andrew is waiting on their bed, his expression still fierce. Silently, he gets up walks through to the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Margaret dries her hair, changes into pyjamas – this time flannel, she is still feeling the cold – and gets into bed, sitting, because she knows she'll fall asleep quickly and she knows her husband wants to talk. When Andrew emerges, the angry look has gone, but a tightness remains around his mouth.

"What do you think you were doing?" The anger was brimming under the surface, after all. "You could've died out there," he says, somewhat melodramatically. Turning away Margaret rolls her eyes, because she understands his fear. This leads into a lecture on the subject of safety in the woods. She sits, uncharacteristically silent as he continues this rant. Finally frustrated by her lack of fight, he grabs her shoulders and turns her to look at him. "What's wrong?"

His concern has wrapped itself around her, like a comfort blanket. Her eyes fill up - a rare occurrence which is now getting too common around Andrew. "It's the anniversary of my parents' deaths," she says. He looks at her for a moment, as if about to say something – perhaps to note that she's never mentioned it before – but then evidently thinks twice about it and pulls her into a bear hug.

Margaret does something she's not done for years and cries into his arms. Decades of pain flood out as she cries herself to nearly to sleep. Before she drifts off, she remembers her regrets. "I'm sorry I was so mean," she says before finally succumbing. Andrew kisses her and holds her tighter.