‘Sounds a bit of a mess.’

Tom sighed. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘Let’s have something to eat now, then we’ll talk some more.’ Jez put his arm round his son’s shoulders as they walked across to the dining area, wanting desperately to do this right, be a good father, make up for lost time. If you ever could.

And Tom didn’t flinch or move away from his grasp.

Please let this work out! Jez prayed. Please. Please.

Chapter Four

Andi turned up that evening without warning. Sophie checked who it was and sighed before opening the door.

‘Hi, Mum. Surprise!’

Was it her imagination or was Andi just a little unsteady on her feet? ‘I thought I’d asked you not to come without checking with me first.’

For a moment a scowl darkened Andi’s face. ‘Other mothers are glad to see their daughters any time.’

‘Other mothers don’t have books to write and deadlines to meet.’ And other daughters came visiting regularly, even when they didn’t need something. But Sophie didn’t say that aloud, just wondered what Andi wanted this time.

‘Shall I go away again?’

‘No, of course not. Come in.’ She didn’t try to hug Andi, who had made it very clear a few years ago that she wasn’t into that touchy-feely stuff, though she’d always hugged her father. Since Bill’s death, Sophie felt that she and her daughter had grown further apart, which upset her. She’d even stopped trying to get closer to Andi lately, she realised suddenly with a jolt of shame. Though you could only beat your head against a brick wall so many times before the pain stopped you trying again. ‘Want a piece of my coffee cake?’

‘How come you’ve time to cook and not to see me?’

‘I’ve told you before: baking is what I do when I’m trying to think things out in my plot. Any mindless activity would do really, just to keep my hands occupied. I thought of a really good twist while I was beating the eggs for this cake.’ She didn’t pursue the point. Her daughter’s eyes always glazed over when she talked about her writing and Andi had only read Sophie’s first two novels, then said when offered others that sentimental stuff wasn’t her thing.

In the kitchen, Andi took her usual place at the breakfast bar and waited to be served. She might have got out the mugs to help, Sophie thought as she put the kettle on and cut her daughter a slice of cake.

‘Aren’t you having some?’

‘I’ve just eaten.’

‘No visitors tonight?’

From the avid look on Andi’s face, this was part of the purpose of the visit, at least – to find out more about Jez. ‘No.’

‘What’s he like?’

Sophie didn’t intend to make it easy for her. ‘Who?’

‘You know. Jez Winter.’

‘Nice. Look, he’s not a friend or anything, and I’m not seeing him again. I just gave him shelter that one time.’

‘How long did he stay?’