Tara looked across at her brother, the old Toby in her heart, and she wanted to laugh, but there were tears in her throat.

‘Tara,’ he said, suddenly. ‘This box …’

Her phone had started ringing. ‘Wait,’ she said, grabbing it from the step, ‘in case it’s Dad.’

But it wasn’t Keith. It was David.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Where did you go this afternoon? You missed some literally violent shamrock biscuits. There was a hell of a row. I saved you one.’

David sounded totally normal. No mention of the job interview. That also irritated her.

‘I had an emergency at home.’

‘Oh no. Nothing serious, I hope?’

‘We’ve got a bit of a flood. Water in the cellar.’ Toby pushed past her, carrying the last box upstairs to safety.

‘Ah. Bad luck. I hear the roads are shut.’

‘Uh-huh.’

There was a long pause.

David laughed, a little nervously. ‘Call me a trained counsellor, but I feel a certain tension. Come on, spit it out, what’s up?’

Tara closed her eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about your interview today?’

This time the silence was on David’s end.

‘Well?’

‘Because I didn’t want you to know,’ he said stiffly.

He didn’t want her to know? Somehow that was worse than anything she’d been expecting him to say.

‘And that’s it?’

‘Yes.’

Toby had appeared at the top of the steps, waving to get her attention.

‘Hang on, David,’ she said, and put the phone against her shoulder. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Molly texted me half an hour ago.’

‘Is she OK?’

‘No, she’s gone out. She wanted to be helpful, so when it stopped raining, she took the dog for a walk but it started raining again, and she’s got lost.’ He raked his hair with his hand. ‘And now she’s not answering her phone.’

‘You’re kidding,’ Tara started then remembered she’d put Molly in charge of Lloyd. And if he’d whined to go out …

‘What’s going on?’ asked David.

‘Nothing.’

‘I heard that, it doesn’t sound like nothing. Are you all right? Can I do anything to help?’

Tara was already scrambling up the stairs, blowing out the candles, as Toby pulled on one of Ruth’s raincoats from the cupboard by the door.

‘Say nothing,’ he said, as Tara opened her mouth to comment on the bright red parka. ‘I didn’t pack for monsoon season.’

Something about Toby’s big-brotherly focus brought back a memory of the times he’d come to Tara’s aid as a child, finding conkers for her, chasing off bigger kids. She’d never had to ask; he’d just been there as if her fear and sadness were his too.

‘Well, look, call me if you need an extra pair of eyes,’ said David.

‘It’s fine,’ said Tara. ‘My brother’s here.’

‘Right, so where should we start?’