‘You know that if I agree to that, there will be another request soon after. You housewives don’t have to listen to our work all day. I can’t have you asking us to keep it down just so you can luncheon in peace.’

Amber imagined thrusting her heel into his crotch. She could forgive many ill traits in a person, but misogyny wasn’t one of them.

‘Very well. End of January, you said?’

‘That’s right. Now you enjoy your day, and don’t have too much fun while us men slave away in the cold.’

He chuckled and his protruding stomach jiggled with his movements. She wondered what it would look like if she punctured it with the knife in her pocket.

She smiled through gritted teeth and turned for the door.

‘Oh, Mr Penfold?’

He turned back with the smile still pulling at the corners of his lips.

‘As I was walking up the drive, I noticed that someone has slashed the tyres on your car. You do own the Audi out front, don’t you?’

His smile fell.

Amber left the house with a triumphant smile of her own.

* * *

Amber stopped the car outside the café and pulled down the sun visor. Her reflection stared back at her. The bruise was starting to show, but her make-up hid it well. She often admired her reflection – it was proof of her survival. The skin may have aged, and the eyes grown wiser, but the little girl she had once been was still in there, the one who paved her own path, bloomed from a place smothered in weeds. Today of all days was a time to marvel in her accomplishments. The date was an important one. But she had far too much to do to sit around and gloat.

Amber walked into the café and sat at their usual table. She always arrived first. She ordered a flat-white latte for herself and soya cappuccino for James.

They had met when James moved into the house next door the year before. He was remarkably successful for a twenty-eight-year-old, amassing a small fortune renovating and developing properties up and down the country. He had a ruthless nature when it came to business. Amber admired that about him. It didn’t take much to survive in this world, but it took a particular cunningness to thrive.

Ten minutes later, James strode to the table with flushed cheeks. Tall and slim, he towered over her as he stood before the table, but lacked intimidation in his stance. His golden blond hair was fluffy from the wind. He unwound the scarf from his neck as he spoke.

‘Sorry I’m late, work crisis.’

‘No different to usual then.’ She nodded towards the counter. ‘I’ve ordered your coffee.’

‘Thanks. I could definitely use it this morning.’ He sat down and sighed. ‘So, how’re things?’