Albin’s eyes flickered. ‘I’m going to work, stumpan. You take this trip to your lovely family alone.’ Hannah found the Swedish term of endearment he used, ‘little one’, to be more condescending than endearing.

She got out her phone to summon an Uber to take her to catch the Arlanda Express to the airport, saddened by the smooth exterior she felt was contrived to keep her out. ‘When I come back, we need to talk … even if work’s still crazy.’

Albin laughed. Then stopped. ‘Yes, let’s do that,’ he said softly before he left the apartment, leaving Hannah wondering at his odd manner.

Then she went outside to wait for the Uber. Julia was covering Hannah’s five-day absence from the shop and she was determined to enjoy her trip home, whatever Albin’s mood.

Coffee at the airport, a sandwich as she read on the plane, and a few hours later she was landing at Heathrow to a bright winter’s day, clearing passport control then wheeling her bag down into the London Underground system to rattle along the Piccadilly line to King’s Cross St Pancras and then take the mainline train to Peterborough. It was so relaxing that she read almost a complete book. Maybe Albin was right. It was better for her to make this trip alone.

Rob was waiting for her, lounging against a post on the station platform as the light began to fade. She stepped off the train, turning up her collar although England wasn’t as cold as the Sweden she’d left behind this morning.

She gave her brother a big hug, examining his familiar grin and smart haircut. ‘I thought Dad would fetch me. Aren’t you busy being a bridegroom?’

He tugged her ponytail. ‘Meeting you was an excuse to get away from the mayhem for an hour but don’t tell Leesa I said so. The rehearsal’s at six so I’m whisking you straight to the hotel.’ His casual delivery belied the happiness and excitement in his eyes as they hurried to the car park. He stuck her bag in the back of his dark blue car and they battled the traffic up Bourges Boulevard onto Soke Parkway and out of the city. Familiar scenery whizzing past the car window, Hannah fairly buzzed at the realisation that it was finally here, this special weekend with her lovely, jolly family. ‘What’s been happening?’ she demanded.

Rob groaned as he changed lanes. ‘Han, you FaceTimed us yesterday! Do you think a Martian’s turned up to take the service, or something?’ Then his face altered. ‘Actually, one thing’s happened.’ He took the road that headed north-east in the direction of Bettsbrough. ‘Nico Pettersson’s bringing two little girls to the wedding instead of one.’

Hannah stared at his profile. ‘I presume one’s his daughter. Where did he get the spare?’