She was unaware that they were in the house until Milly tapped her on the shoulder and she turned.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She removed her earbuds. “How was your run?”

Oh, to have the confidence to wear earphones, Nicole thought. There was never a time when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings, and if someone tapped her on the shoulder like that she would have kicked them, jabbed her fingers into their eye sockets and asked questions later.

“It was great, thanks. What are you listening to?” Nicole stole a berry and popped it in her mouth.

Zoe shrugged. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Right.” She remembered how worried Milly was about Zoe and wondered if she might be able to help. After all, acting was the one thing she knew a great deal about. “You’re playing Hermia?”

“Yeah.” Zoe turned away. Her tone and body language said that the subject was closed, but Nicole refused to be deflected that easily.

She banked on the fact that Zoe was too polite to shut her down the way she might her mother.

“Hermia is a great part. She’s a strong character, able to stand up for herself. A little feisty.” She felt a pang of nostalgia for the days when she’d played the same part. It had been the performance that had changed her life because the woman who had become her agent had been in the audience on opening night. “Are you having fun with it?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It was said with such a lack of enthusiasm that Nicole finally understood why Milly might be worried. Something wasn’t right.

The more she watched Milly in action, the more respect she had for her. It seemed to her that being a good mother involved far more than offering unconditional love and practical support where necessary. You had to be a mind reader.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Zoe paused and then turned to look at her. “Not really.”

Nicole ate another berry. “It’s just that I’m pretty sure that whatever you’re feeling playing this part, I will have felt it at some point.”

“I doubt it.”

“Try me.”

“It’s not the part itself.” Zoe stirred the eggs and then sighed. “Cally went for the same part, and I got it.” She muttered the words. “And now she’s not speaking to me.”

“Oh, Zoe.” Milly made a distressed sound. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d worry. You have enough to think about with Dad.” Zoe turned the heat off under the pan. “It will be fine. And don’t give me sympathy or I’ll cry, and if I go into school with red eyes I’ll be toast.”

Nicole sent Milly a silencing look and handed Zoe a plate. “Cally is your best friend?”