Noticing the time, she said, “You should go, Mum, or you won’t be there when Henry comes to pick you up.”

Glancing at her watch Marcy agreed, “You’re right, but don’t stay long, will you? You’ll need to get ready for the ball.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Claudia hugged her. “You have a great time, and happy New Year.”

“To you too,” Marcy said warmly. “Love you and see you tomorrow.”

IT HAD LONG been dark outside by the time Claudia finally locked up the coach house and returned to her car. It shouldn’t take much more than twenty minutes to drive back into town, but she was in no hurry, for she’d decided several days ago that she wouldn’t be going to the ball. She hadn’t told anyone; if she had it might have stopped her mother going to London, or Jasmine celebrating with her friends at a party in the Old Town. Plus, Andee and Leanne would probably have done their best to persuade her to change her mind, and Dan . . . Well, it was unlikely to make a difference to him whether or not she was there. He could always introduce her to Julie Forrest another time; it didn’t have to be tonight.

Checking the time as she drove away, she imagined her mother arriving at the theater with Henry around about now, looking glamorous and excited in a sequined black dress and mock-fur cape. It pleased her so much to think of Marcy and Jasmine being happy that she didn’t really mind about herself; after all, in her way she was happy too. Moreover, the sudden bouts of anxiety she’d suffered when they’d first gotten here only ever seemed to happen now when she left her car outside the flat and ran up the steps to go inside. She couldn’t prevent herself from thinking someone was going to appear from the shadows to stop her, and she never felt totally safe until the front door was closed and locked behind her.

This evening her mind was so full of what still needed to be done at the coach house that she made it into the villa and was kicking off her boots behind the locked door of the flat before it occurred to her to feel worried. Clocking it up as another small milestone achieved, she went through to the living area, where the chaos of a teenager getting ready to go out was strewn like a still life across the table. She regarded it thoughtfully, although her mind wasn’t on it. She was thinking more about how quiet the place seemed and what she might have worn if she had gone out.