And she meant it. She was all the baby had. She was everything, so she had to be everything, and she would. She’d be loving but she’d also be truthful, no matter how hard it was. She wasn’t going to let this baby down.

She needed a plan, but that started with Joanna. She didn’t understand why Joanna was helping her, but Cliff was gone so there would be no help coming from that direction. Right now she’d take anything she could get.

For a split second she was back in the car, in those few moments between her telling him and him reacting to the news. She knew she’d never forget the look in his eyes or the words he’d spoken.

Ashley turned off the shower and forced herself to push the memory away. This wasn’t the time to relive the trauma of the accident. She needed to focus on now, this moment, and the future.

She wrapped herself in one of the large, soft towels stacked on the glass shelf and dried her hair.

She delved into her bag to find clean clothes and saw her phone. She hadn’t touched it since the police had handed it over.

Heart thudding, she switched it on.

Ten voice-mail messages.

She swallowed and turned the phone off again. She wasn’t ready for that yet. One step at a time.

Burying the phone under a shirt, she pulled out jeans and a clean top. Both still fitted her, although she wasn’t sure how long that would last.

Feeling self-conscious, she left the bedroom and headed downstairs. It was impossible not to look around, and what struck her wasn’t the jaw-dropping design, or the luxury touches, but the fact that there was nothing personal on show. It was like staying in a hotel, not that Ashley would know because they’d never had the money for hotels. Part of her wanted to sneak a look into some of the other rooms, including the master bedroom and the library Joanna had mentioned, but she had a feeling they wouldn’t tell her anything about the owner.

Like most people who read the popular press, she’d thought she knew Joanna Whitman, but it turned out she was a bit of a mystery. She owned this incredible place, and yet she’d never stayed here. In her position, Ashley would never have left. She would have spent every night in that delicious cocoon of a bed, and all her daylight hours ravenously devouring the view.

She passed the living room and saw deep, comfortable sofas and a large fireplace. A low table was stacked with art books and a sculpture. It was sophisticated. Grown up.