Dan didn’t go into the emotions of the case, only the hard facts, and he could see from his mother’s face, her searching eyes, that she wanted to be reassured, she wanted to know he knew what he was doing. She had always, always, taken her children’s side in adversity, and she wanted to now. She’d been the sort of mother who would march along to school and demand to know from the headmaster why Joe had been caned, or why Claire was left out of the hockey team, or why Dan – the youngest, the pet – didn’t have a speaking part in the Christmas play. Embarrassing, but they’d known as they grew up that they’d never be alone in their corner, there’d always be Marion, believing they were champions, watching their backs. But this: this was a lot for her to take in, and it carried with it the tinge of disgrace. Already she was imagining saying to her friends the dread words that, oh dear, yes, Daniel and Katelin had separated. Even as she listened to her son, she was dimly aware of – and, now, sorry for – the complacency she’d felt over the passing years when she’d heard similar tales from others in her circle, the underlying smug satisfaction that yes, life together was a challenge, but her own offspring understood loyalty and decency. Well, Joe never married. But Claire and Daniel had made their choices, and hadn’t they seen her stick with Bill despite everything? You don’t just bin somebody, do you? But now, Daniel had binned Katelin, and Marion didn’t know what to think. Granted, she was a prickly girl, so easy to offend, so difficult to please, and why she wouldn’t ever marry Daniel, Marion had no earthly clue. But it had been a marriage, in the end, hadn’t it? As good as, anyway, in all but name. And it was going to be very difficult for Marion to condone and support her dear boy, now that he’d walked away from Katelin, for Alison Connor, of all people. She wondered, had she started all this herself, by buying that book for Katelin last Christmas? Oh, how she shuddered and recoiled from this idea. She certainly hadn’t meant any harm, and if she’d known who the author was, she’d have put it straight down. Trouble with a capital T, that girl, the upset she’d caused! Daniel sad for months and months, dropping out of university, taking up with any girl who gave him the eye, travelling around after his blessed pop groups like a lost soul. These wounds, inflicted by Alison, ran deep and everlasting in the tender centre of Marion’s being. She’d never forgotten, and rarely forgiven, a single slight against any of her children, even the playground spats, so she’d certainly never forgiven Alison Connor. Certainly not.