I could end this. All I had to do was enter the café, approach Elsa, introduce myself to this man, and ask him his business. But I stayed in the shadows, watching as Elsa took Franklin’s seat from the table, placed it carefully at her feet.

The man was the first to leave. I hung back as he walked toward his car, shoulders hunched against the wind. A gray Volvo, rust-stained around the wheel arches. He got in, slammed the door shut. A line of wet snow fell from the roof on to the tarmac.

I took out my phone and wrote the plate number into it.

Dinner that evening was dominated by Franklin: he pushed food from his plate; he burbled; he dropped his spoon experimentally onto the floor and watched, fascinated, as Elsa picked it up. Every time. His eyes fizzed with delight.

Elsa was on her hands and knees, reaching under the table.

“Actions have consequences,” I said. “Maybe leave it there, love.”

Elsa got to her feet, passed the spoon to Franklin. “Don’t use the word love like that, Cal. Like it’s a control mechanism.”

“He’s right, though, Mum,” said Vee. “Why are you being Franklin’s bitch?”

“Vee,” I said, “don’t.”

“Or what? Mum will get worse? How could she actually be worse than she is right now?” She folded her arms, angry with us both.

Elsa sat in her place. “I guess we’re all a little on edge.” She reached out across the table, took my left hand. “Sorry, Cal.”

“Sorry, love.” I smiled a careful smile. “How was coffee at the mall today?”

“Good,” she said levelly. “Coffee at the mall was good.” But I could feel the racing of her mind. Had she told me she was having coffee? Had she told me she was going to the mall?

“Franklin sleep all the way through?”

Perhaps Elsa could hear the edge in my voice. She smiled as if puzzled.

“Yeah,” she said. “Franklin slept.”

“Good,” I said. “Sorry if I was sharp.”

We both turned to look at our daughter.

“What is this?” said Vee. “How come suddenly it’s the two of you united against me?”

“This isn’t about sides,” said Elsa. “But in the future please don’t use the word bitch in front of your brother.”

“Fine. Just—”

She was on her feet, heading from the room.

“Vee, would you please—”

“No.”

“—pick up your plate—”

The door swung shut behind her.

I sat staring at Elsa, waiting for her to speak, but she simply sat staring back.

“I wasn’t completely straight with you,” she said at last. “I’ve been feeling weird about that.” She smiled; her wolf eyes fixed on mine, gauging my reaction.

“I wasn’t straight with you either,” I said.