“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack held her hand as they followed the trail that led through the forest. He’d refused to take the path that led alongside the lake. “I knew your mother died, but I didn’t know how.”

Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. Apart from the occasional crack of a twig underfoot, their steps were silent, muffled by moss and vegetation.

Flora, used to the blare of car horns and sirens, found the peace calming.

“It’s not something I usually talk about.” But she’d just announced it in grand style at breakfast. She’d been almost as shocked as they were. Even Julia didn’t know the details of her mother’s death. So what had changed? How had she reached this point when a few weeks before she would have been so desperate to fit in and earn their approval she probably would have accepted Izzy’s invitation and climbed into the damn boat?

And it was Izzy herself who was indirectly responsible for the change. Her sharp words had slid into Flora like a knife, all the more lethal because there was an element of truth behind what was said. She did have trouble speaking up.

Her words had stayed with Flora through the rest of the evening and through a long and sleepless night. And it wasn’t only the words. In those few tense seconds before the teenager had yelled, Flora had seen vulnerability and gratitude. By stepping in and stepping up, Flora had made her feel a little less isolated and alone. And although the whole thing had blown up afterward, she’d still been left feeling a little closer to Izzy. She could see now that what their relationship needed wasn’t for her to make more effort, but for her to be more honest. No relationship was ever going to have depth unless you were honest.

And while it was true that the timing and delivery could have been better because the last thing she wanted was for Izzy to think she was sulking, the most important thing was that they now knew she hated water. There would be no more invitations to go kayaking or swimming. That was a relief, but it also felt good that they knew her a little better.

And she’d been touched when Clare had pulled her aside earlier and checked that she was okay, not in that stilted polite tone that she usually used but with genuine warmth and concern. It felt to Flora that Clare had seen her as an individual for the first time, and not just Becca’s replacement.

And now she wanted to forget about it and enjoy the silence, the fresh air and the feeling of Jack’s fingers tangled with hers.