Her heart seems to constrict when Saoirse calls her Mum, and Greta has to blink back tears of her own as she steps forward. Whatever Saoirse's intentions, she hasn't left yet, she's still here now, and these moments can't be wasted.

"It's beautiful," she says, and it is. She doesn't really know what she thought Saoirse's coat would look like. More like an actual seal, perhaps: grey and dappled, not such a pure, fluffy white. Sinking to her knees, she beckons hopefully. "Here, can I...?" Take a closer look? Hug her once, before she goes? She doesn't know how this story goes anymore.