After hanging her own coat, Claudia went to put on the kettle while Marcy stood at the middle arched window, staring down their short drive toward the road. The gates were operational now, opening and closing with a remote control, and a large drystone wall had been constructed on either side to seal the boundary. Clearing the front and back gardens was an ongoing project, and to Claudia’s relief it was something her mother was taking an interest in.

Right now she was waiting for Henry to arrive, which he would in the next few minutes since he’d already called to say he was on his way. He’d be eager to know how they’d got on at the burns clinic today, in fact he’d have taken Marcy himself if Claudia hadn’t made it clear a while ago that she needed to be there for these appointments. If she wasn’t she was afraid her mother might not tell her everything, and it wouldn’t be possible for her to stay on top of things if she didn’t have all the information.

“Is that him?” she asked, hearing the crunch of tires approaching the house. Henry had his own remote control for the gates.

“Yes,” came Marcy’s reply, and she turned from the window to help with the tea, unhooking one mug at a time while keeping her left hand in the pocket of her dress. Her hair had grown almost to chin level by now and had been styled with a right-side parting to create a full sweep of her bob down over the injured side of her face. Unlike the pretty scarves she wore around her scarred neck it didn’t mask very much, but at least it covered what remained of her ear—and the color, since being highlighted, suited her well. She was still beautiful if caught in the right profile and in the right light, but the damaged side of her face was a constant and brutal reminder of what she’d been through.

Henry let himself in through the front door, banging his gloved hands together and stomping his feet on the doormat as if he’d just arrived from the Arctic. It was cold out, but not that cold. “I’ve brought cake,” he told them. He grinned, “And I’ve left it in the car. I’ll be right back,” and he disappeared outside again.

“I’m guessing lemon tart,” Claudia said, pouring hot water into the teapot.

Marcy said, “Definitely something with lemon.”

It turned out to be a drizzle cake, one of Marcy’s favorites, and after enjoying a slice with them while updating Henry on her mother’s progress, Claudia left them to the Times crossword—something they did together most days—and disappeared into her craft room.