Flora had been unable to fetch Isaac’s things from The Three Fishes because Willow was at work and Flora had all four of the children to look after but only two child seats for her car. ‘Sorry,’ she said, obviously shaken to hear of Hayley’s plight and Isaac’s part in it. ‘I can do it late tonight when Willow gets back but it would be about midnight.’

‘Better not,’ he murmured, resigning himself to another day in the same clothes. ‘It’s not fair to disturb Hayley then.’

It was a surprise when the front bell rang at six in the evening and Isaac’s mum appeared at the door. ‘Your stuff’s in the car if you want to run down for it,’ she said calmly, stepping indoors and handing him her car keys. ‘Sorry to invite myself, Hayley,’ she said, sailing into the sitting room. ‘You poor thing.’

‘Um. That’s OK,’ Hayley said, looking dazed.

Stef talked to Hayley while Isaac ran down the stairs and hauled two fat holdalls out of the back of her car.

Considering the two women hadn’t really seemed to like one another while Hayley and Isaac had been together, they found a lot to talk about. Maybe with Hayley now being incapacitated and Stef having been a carer for so long, they’d found an area of understanding. Whatever it was, Isaac was able to shower and change while his mum kept up a steady flow of sympathetic conversation.

After half an hour Stef rose and hugged Isaac. ‘I’ve got to get back to your dad.’

Isaac found himself unexpectedly glad of a cuddle from his mum. ‘Thanks for bringing my stuff. Give Dad my love.’

By the time he’d seen her back to her car Hayley was asleep in the chair so he crept off into the spare room and closed the door to ring Lily.

And, finally, finally, she answered. ‘Hello, Isaac.’ Her voice sounded small and far away.

‘Hey,’ he said, rolling down on the bed, warmth flooding through him for the first time in the past twenty-four hours. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine,’ she said lifelessly. ‘How are things there?’

A prickle worked its way up his neck. ‘You don’t sound fine. You sound as if you’ve been crying.’

‘Crying?’ She laughed but it lacked her usual warmth and musicality. ‘I’ve been singing so much my voice has gone. I’m kind of glad to get to the end of it. We’ve ended early because there’s a snowstorm and Ona’s been rushed into hospital.’

‘Is she OK?’ he asked, concerned about the quiet, gentle woman who’d been trying her hardest to get to the end of her pregnancy successfully.