‘Because there’s something I have to tell you first before we go any further. Let’s go into the living room.’

She would have walked ahead, but he took her hand and laced his fingers in hers. She could feel her hand trembling in his and saw him look down at it, then at her.

What would he think when she told him? Would he find her unattractive, draw back, not want to touch her?

Tom was pleased he’d been able to help his father set up the studio and computer, would have loved to stay and play with it, but he had to check that his children were all right. When he went across to the cottage, he found them playing quietly on the floor with a couple of their favourite toys. Jane had unpacked all their clothes and made up the beds already.

She smiled round. ‘It’s a lovely little house, though why I say little when it’s bigger than my house back home, I don’t know.’

‘How’s your flat?’

‘Great. Come and see it.’ She turned to pick Ryan up, but Tom took him from her and tossed his son in the air, making him laugh. It was wonderful not to have to keep the kids quiet all the time and they were looking rosier and plumper already, thanks to Jane’s care and the good food they were eating.

The flat had one bedroom with a bathroom, a sitting room and a small kitchen. Jane smoothed the blue-flowered duvet cover with a proprietorial hand. ‘Lovely, isn’t it? Everything’s brand new, you can tell that. I don’t know how Donna managed to do it all so quickly.’

‘How about a cup of tea? I’m parched.’

‘You and your cups of tea! It’s a wonder you don’t squelch when you walk.’

‘Have you talked to that new housekeeper about food for Ryan and Hayley?’

‘Oh, yes. He’s a lovely man. He and his friend are going to cook everyone’s evening meal, if we want, and supply food for you and me to get our own breakfasts and lunches. I have to order what we need from him twice a week. It’s almost like a village here, isn’t it?’

‘Except for the security. You won’t forget to lock up when you go over to the big house, will you?’

‘Of course not. I’ve learned our number off by heart. Now, you put that kettle on and we’ll christen these new mugs of mine. I think there’s carton of juice for the children.’

Sophie stared down into her cup of peppermint tea. On the big armchair at right angles to hers Jez sat very still, not pushing her to begin. And that was a good thing, because she didn’t know where to start. But it had to be done, so she put the cup down untasted and hunted desperately for the right words.

‘After Bill died, I fell ill myself. Cancer.’ She took a deep breath and said it: ‘Breast cancer.’ Her hand had gone up to touch her right breast before she knew it. ‘I had to have a mastectomy. I’ve – been clear for three years now and – things look good, but …’ The words just wouldn’t come out.