I swallowed, shaking my head. It felt as though the whole world had shrunk down to this moment, these people. This choice. ‘It’s not enough.’

‘Sweet-Bea,’ Dad said, cutting through the tornado raging in my head. ‘Don’t you dare say yes unless you want the job.’

‘But Baxter’s right though, isn’t he?’ I said, twisting to face him. ‘How can I not want the job if it means this gets to continue? How can I enjoy going to work every day if I know that Charis House is empty, or converted into a tacky spa hotel, and my family are heartbroken, never mind homeless?’

‘A very good point,’ Baxter chortled.

‘Oh, do be quiet!’ Mum snapped. ‘No one was talking to you.’

‘How do you think we would feel, knowing you were working for that bully because of us?’ Dad asked, choking on the words.

‘It’s my decision,’ I declared, sliding my hand back to grip Henry’s, because even though it was my decision, I didn’t have the strength to make it alone.

The second my fingers reached his, he spun me around and took hold of the other one, bending his head to bore his eyes into mine. ‘Bea, you have to trust in the right thing, here. Trust this.’ He jerked his head towards the house. ‘Trust almost two hundred years of fierce, fearless Armstrongs. Trust your parents, what they built here, and how much this means to people. Trust yourself, and the powerful community you created.’ The corner of his mouth quirked up. ‘Trust Adam, and that bloody amazing video he’s made. You don’t need to sell your soul to Baxter Bigwood. You – we – can do this without him.’

‘It’s not my soul though, is it?’ I asked, struggling to see him through the blur of tears. ‘It’s just a job. It’s just me, compared to all these others.’

‘But this is your life, and however noble and valiant and in line with the Armstrong tradition it might be to sacrifice it for the sake of others, you don’t need to do this. Just trust in the people you love.’

There was a rigid silence, while the world – or my world, at least – hovered in its orbit; my heart hung suspended between beats. Then I blinked, my vision cleared and I focused on the face in front of me.

‘I don’t know about any of those things,’ I whispered. ‘I certainly don’t know if I can put much trust in me. But you know what? I’ve always trusted you, Henry.’ My voice grew stronger alongside my conviction. ‘Even when I pretended to myself I couldn’t stand you, I knew that every word you spoke was true.’

I let go of his hands, turning to face my would-be employer. ‘Thank you for the offer, Mr Bigwood. But my previous answer still stands.’

‘Good on you, girl,’ I heard Mum mutter.