Mortification colder than the wind that blew between the cosily lit cottages swept her as she remembered his words on the aircraft. I didn’t even have to ask you to help me on this trip. He’d followed up by saying she’d made him the happiest he’d been for years but if he’d been unhappy as a single parent, that wasn’t saying much. And he’d been getting sex.

Gagged by tears, Hannah blanked whatever else Vivvi was saying and fumbled for her keys. She’d go to Nan’s and leave Nico to contact her. If Vivvi was horribly and completely wrong then he’d just tell her, wouldn’t he?

She had to perform an ignominious twenty-point turn in the lane under Vivvi’s watchful gaze and drove shakily home – her temporary home, anyway – in a haze of pain. Nan’s house was cold and empty but she was glad. Right this minute, she didn’t want to see her lovely family because the sympathy she knew would pour out of them would rip out what was left of her heart. She dragged herself upstairs for a hot bath that didn’t cure her shivers, her phone within reach.

The hours ticked by and it didn’t ring.

She crept off to bed to lie awake, gazing into the darkness.

Hopelessly, she faced facts. Nico was a wonderful parent. He’d been upset at the idea of the girls being split up again. Making the family one unit would make sense. And if Vivvi hadn’t been telling her the truth he would have called her by now.

And still the phone didn’t ring.

Suddenly she was angry.

Bloody men. How many more would think it was OK to bugger things up for her? To live his own life and if she became disruptive, winkle her out of it? It filled her with impotent rage.

When the clock beside her bed said two a.m. she got up. If Nico hadn’t sent so much as a text by now he wasn’t going to. He could even be in bed with Loren.

Grief-stricken, she took down the presents she’d stored atop the wardrobe. Two new nighties for Nan and a book about the stately homes of England. A super-duper car care kit for her dad and a box of chocolate liqueurs. Champagne for Mo, who dearly loved it but would never consider buying it for herself. Clinique mascara and eye liner for Leesa, who appreciated brands, and a North Face sweatshirt for Rob.

Neatly, methodically, she wrapped up and labelled each gift. Then she packed them in Mo’s little car along with a backpack and a medium-sized case. When she judged her parents would have finished breakfast she drove to their house and was surprised to find Nan there.