‘And?’

‘Don’t be obtuse, Tom.’

‘Are you suggesting there’s more to it than that?’

‘Didn’t you think last night they were awfully quick to agree with everything the other said? At one point they were practically finishing off each other’s sentences.’

He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, then ran them through his sleep-tousled hair. ‘I just thought Willow was showing empathy. She’s good like that.’

‘Meaning I’m not?’

He smiled. ‘I didn’t say that. But you’re always the practical one, whereas Willow is—’

‘Is the big-hearted softie. Yeah, I get it. She’s the good cop to my bad cop.’

‘We all have our strengths.’

‘Hmmm …’

He laughed. ‘Don’t you hmm me. Not when you look so gorgeous. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve reached the radiant stage of pregnancy now, haven’t you?’

She pulled a face. ‘Have I? I don’t feel particularly radiant.’

‘Trust me, you are. It’s like you’re glowing with good health. Pregnancy clearly suits you.’

Her hands placed around her swelling bump, she said, ‘A shame it took so long for it to happen for us.’

‘It didn’t,’ said Tom, ‘not really. Some couples go through years of trying. We weren’t even a full year.’

She smiled. ‘It felt a lot longer.’

‘That’s because you’re so wonderfully impatient to make things happen. That’s another of your strengths.’

‘Bloody hell, Tom, if you keep up with all these compliments, I’ll think you’re having an affair!’

Which made her think of Willow and Lucas strolling along the beach together. Turning towards the window, she wondered what on earth her fickle sister thought she was up to. And just what would Rick have to say about this?

The answer to that question was a sudden disturbing mental picture of Rick winding Willow’s hair around his fingers.

Winding it tighter and tighter.

Chapter Forty-Three

‘It’s strange,’ said Lucas as he walked alongside Willow, ‘but it’s only now that I really feel like my grandmother has gone. You’d think the whole church and burial thing would have made the point, but somehow it didn’t. Does that sound weird?’

‘Not really,’ said Willow, ‘and as far as I know, there aren’t any hard and fast rules about these things. We all cope in our different ways. And yesterday you and Ellis had the distraction of all those people to deal with.’

He slowed his step and turned to stare out to sea. ‘It brought back memories of my mother’s death too.’ A moment passed before he returned his gaze to Willow, his hands now pushed into his pockets. ‘Did yesterday remind you of losing your dad?’

‘Yes, I suppose it did,’ she said absently.

‘Were you close?’

‘Not especially. Not like Martha was. She’s what you’d call a proper chip off the block. I think I exasperated him mostly.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘It’s true. My sister has always had a great sense of purpose to her life, it was something Dad tried to encourage in us both. It worked perfectly with Martha, and not at all with me.’