Tara stared at her brother with barely disguised fury. He’d always been like this, insisting on absolute silence for his GCSE revision which meant she’d only been able to do half as much practice for her Grade 6 piano exam as she needed, resulting in a Merit not the Distinction she’d been predicted. Toby never had a problem stating what he required, then making sure he got it. This wasn’t a new thing. Ten years in therapy hadn’t got Tara to his level of self-assurance. It probably never would.

‘Anyway, you’re back now, no need to be a martyr about it,’ he said, as if that concluded the matter, and replaced the expensive noise-cancelling headphones on his ears. ‘I’ll be in the dining room – do you mind keeping it down till I’m finished?’

‘Toby, you can’t just …’

But he was gone.

Lloyd gazed up at her from the sofa. He looked happy. Evidence of his boredom was scattered around – a pair of socks, ripped paper, a knocked-over cup. House rules had clearly gone by the by.

A sudden image of a villa in Tuscany floated into Tara’s mind. Warmth, high thread count sheets, wine. Phil.

‘Do you want to see my photographs?’ Molly brandished a rainbow box at her.

‘Yes, please!’ said Tara with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Molly had used up two films from her new instant cameras already, and nearly all the photos were of Tara and Toby, Keith and Lloyd.

It was obvious which her favourite was: a blurry selfie of Keith and Lloyd. ‘My two favourite people in the whole world,’ whispered Molly shyly.

It reminded Tara of another photo of a younger, darker Keith with a younger, blonder dog. Her two favourite people in the whole world too.

Her heart pinched. Where was that photo now?

‘And Mum too,’ Molly added loyally, and looked pensive.

While Molly was arranging her photographs in order of preference, Tara made a quick call to the office, explaining that she’d be late back for her 2 p.m. appointment.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Chloe. ‘We’re just about to close anyway. The road’s flooded so Jacqueline’s declared an emergency and sent everyone home.’

‘Oh no, is it serious?’ Tara looked out of the window at the leaden sky. The trees were swaying silently back and forth, as the rain slid down the windows, puddling in the slate containers. Thank goodness they were on a hill.

‘The police are diverting people away from the main bridge, so I think we’re in for it.’ Chloe sighed. ‘You left at just the right time.’

‘Good luck getting home,’ said Tara, but she was already thinking about Troutbridge. Surely it couldn’t flood again, not when they were so close to finishing?