‘Polly, your sister?’ Surprise makes my eyebrows shoot up into my hairline. ‘That’s . . . brilliant. How did she take the news about Laurel?’

‘Not well, obviously.’ Fran meets my eyes. ‘I think you need to go home and be with your family for Christmas, Anna. I know we haven’t really properly discussed the circumstances under which you came to work for us, but I do know you’ve spent every Christmas here with us, instead of with your family. Now they know you’re back here – now we all know the truth about things – I think it might be best for you to go home for a while.’

‘But you’ll be here on your own,’ I say hastily, not entirely sure that I do want to go home for Christmas. Although my mother says none of this matters, it will still be hard to go home and face her.

‘I won’t be here. I already told you I’m going to go away for a little while,’ Fran says, shortly. ‘I’m going to stay with Polly. She’s renting a cottage in Norfolk, it’s tucked out of the way and the press won’t be able to find me there. I’m going to go and spend Christmas there, and then I think once Dominic goes to trial I’ll sell the house and start afresh somewhere else.’

‘Right.’ I feel wrongfooted, off balance, and I snatch up the stick and start poking at the fire in an attempt to hide my feelings. Even though Fran and I were never the best of friends, not friends at all really, I suppose I assumed that I would stay on for a while, just to support her through the trial, but it seems she doesn’t need me. ‘I’ll speak to my mother and let you know when I’m leaving.’

‘Perfect.’ Fran smiles at me, a quick, relieved smile, before she strides away towards the house, her arms wrapped around her body in an attempt to keep warm, leaving me alone, outside in the bitter winter chill.