‘I am sure Even is not try to hurt you,’ Irena interjected.

The sound of her voice ignited a fire in Marie’s eyes.

‘His name is Ev-An,’ she corrected her angrily. ‘And don’t you dare talk about him like you and him are friends. He’s told me all about you, waltzing in here and taking advantage of a lonely old man, and he’s as disgusted by you as I am!’

‘That’s enough,’ Frank said, desperate to get her out of there when he heard a creak on the stairs behind him. ‘Just go home, Marie.’

Rounding on him, Marie yelled, ‘Don’t tell me what to do, ’cos you’re as bad as her! You call yourself a father, putting that tart before your own children when their mum isn’t even cold in her grave yet? And to think I forced Evan to ring you on Christmas Day, because I knew he was missing you. It’s no wonder him and Jo don’t want anything to do with you. You’re a disgrace!’

‘Do not talk to Frankie like this,’ Irena jumped to Frank’s defence. ‘He is good man, and is not his fault his son is liar.’

‘Irena, don’t,’ Frank said quietly.

‘No, is not fair,’ Irena persisted. ‘She is disrespect you, and she need to know truth.’

‘What truth?’ Marie demanded, staring at Frank. ‘What’s she on about?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Frank said, furious that Irena had been about to repeat the accusation she’d made against Evan when he now knew it to be a lie. ‘It’s late, and we all need some sleep, so go home.’

‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what she meant.’ Marie stood her ground.

‘I’ve already told you I haven’t seen Evan, and I don’t know where he is,’ Frank said with finality. ‘Now go home, Marie.’

Narrowing her eyes when he made to close the door, Marie said, ‘I know you lot have never liked me, and I bet you’re made up now he’s left me, aren’t you? Well, you know what, you can go to hell, ’cos I’m getting a divorce and cutting the whole rotten lot of you out of my life!’

She turned on her heel at that, and marched back to her car, and Frank’s heart went out to her when he saw her swiping tears off her face as she drove away.

‘I am sorry if I speak out of turn,’ Irena murmured, touching his arm. ‘But she would not leave, so I was try to—’

‘Don’t touch me!’ Frank snapped, slamming the door shut and glaring down at her. ‘This is all your fault.’

‘What was that?’ Karel demanded, trotting down the stairs.