Dan threw the dishcloth onto the table between them with force. “It was only for a week, you know. That’s all. One week. And I think that the least you could have done, for my sake, was to just make the best of it. In fact, I really thought you were. Both of you were in sparkling form the other night at the Trenchards. I was really proud of you. And then you have to go and do a stupid thing like that!”

Millie looked at him as if he had just slapped her across the face. “But—”

“There is absolutely no excuse, Millie, so don’t even bother trying to wriggle your way out of this one. What you did was inexcusable. You involved a hell of a lot of people last night, and every one of us was in fear of your safety. To be honest, I couldn’t give a shit about you getting drunk. I’m pretty sure that you’ll be feeling the punishment for that right now. But what I can’t excuse is the selfishness that you showed towards others.”

Millie dipped her head and stared into her lap. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“We truly are, Dad,” Nina added quietly.

Dan shook his head. “Do you know something? After that night at the Trenchards, I had an idea that I might ring up your mother and ask if you could all come up here for Christmas. I thought that it would be great fun because I thought you were beginning to enjoy yourselves. But that was a stupid idea, wasn’t it?” He turned and stared out the window. “You win, girls. You can get on that train on Sunday night and neither of you need ever come back to Scotland again.”

“But we love it up here,” Nina spluttered out, her face collapsing as only Nina’s could.

“I don’t think so, Nina.”

“But we do,” Millie continued on from her sister. “We really love being like a family again. That other night with the Trenchards was good fun. I really liked Patrick and Katie and their children. It was just . . . fun.”

Dan turned and leaned against the kitchen sink, his arms folded. “Excuse me, you two, but do you think I have a memory like a sieve? No more than a minute ago, you were telling me how much you hated it up here?”

Millie wiped the sleeve of her T-shirt across her dripping nose as she shook her head. “Not here. School. We hate school so much, Dad. We just didn’t want to go back, and that’s why . . .” She didn’t finish, but once more burst into tears, her action being copied to a T by her younger sister.