When the doorbell rang half an hour before the interview, she was still in her casual clothes, still dithering. She let Donna in with relief.

‘Just thought we could discuss what to say or not say, if you don’t mind. And what to wear. He’ll be taking the photo himself. He’s quite a good photographer, actually.’

‘I don’t mind at all going over it with you. You know far more about this sort of thing than I do.’ Sophie hesitated, then asked, ‘How’s Jez? I hope he sorted out his crisis. I was worried about him the other day; he seemed so tired and sad.’

‘He’s still tired, but not as sad. Sends his best wishes every time he knows I’m coming to see you and talks about your cake. You certainly made a good impression on him.’

Sophie could feel herself blushing and saw Donna’s amusement at that. ‘That’s nice. I’ll give you a chunk of my latest cake to take back for him.’ She couldn’t hold back a sigh. ‘I can certainly sympathise about family problems. You don’t want to hear about that, though.’

‘Do you still have a problem? I’m a good listener.’

Sophie explained about Andi. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘There’s not much you can do except be there if she needs you.’ Donna gave Sophie a wry smile. ‘Oh, and you can worry. Mothers do a lot of that.’

‘You’re not a—’

‘No, I’m not a mother, but my sister’s a single parent and she’s having a lot of trouble with her son. He’s only eight, so she’s still got some control over him, but he’s a cheeky little devil, always into fights, in trouble at school. He needs a father, really.’

‘Your sister has all my sympathy. Now, could you please help me decide what to wear? Come and see what I’ve got.’

They chose a simple outfit, black skirt and top, and a patchwork jacket in velvet, with flowers in jewel colours on the patterned pieces, but still mainly black. Sophie had once bought it at a colourful market stall and never found the right occasion to wear it. But Donna loved it and somehow it looked right today.

The doorbell rang. She took a deep breath and went to answer it.

Peter looked smarter than last time, a well-dressed urbane man, tall, with prematurely silver hair.

‘Please come in.’

The interview was easier than she’d expected. He didn’t ask any leading or awkward questions and Donna, sitting watchfully to one side, didn’t have to step in.

When Donna’s mobile rang, she excused herself and went to answer it in the kitchen. Her ‘Oh, damn!’ rang down the corridor loud and clear.

She came hurrying back. ‘I have to go.’ She looked fiercely at Peter. ‘Can I trust you not to lead her astray?’

‘I promise.’ He smiled as her expression remained stony. ‘I mean it. It’d not suit my purpose at all to get on the bad side of the Jez Winter machine, now would it? I’d really like to do an in-depth interview with him one day.’