Twisting her head to her left, Willow looked at the other driver as they sped by and tried to convey a smile of polite apology. The other driver was a young girl and gave Willow the finger. So much for trying to make amends, she thought.

‘You’re such an innocent,’ Rick said, ‘you never see people for what they really are.’

‘What makes you say that?’ she asked, watching the windscreen wipers swish to and fro, smearing dead insects across the glass.

‘You can’t see what Lucas is up to, can you? He clearly fancies you. I saw the way he kept looking at you last night; it was bloody obvious he wanted you all to himself.’

‘Oh, that’s nonsense!’

‘Is it? Is it really? Because I think you might feel the same way about him. And what the hell were you talking about down on the beach this morning? Be honest, did he come on to you? Did you encourage him?’

‘No! You’ve got it all wrong, Rick. He just wanted someone to talk to about his grandmother. I think he feels guilty that he didn’t see more of her towards the end of her life.’

Rick grunted. ‘Why didn’t he talk to Ellis or your mother about his grandmother if he wanted to ease his conscience? Or even Martha? Why you?’

Willow let out a short laugh. ‘Would you choose Martha to talk to if you were upset about something?’ When he didn’t respond, she said, ‘Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger, or a relative stranger about something quite personal. And anyway, I’m known for being a good listener.’ She thought of all those elderly donors who poured out their troubles to her when she was at work trying to extract an increase in donations from them.

He scoffed. ‘You never listen to me.’

‘I do.’

‘You don’t!’ he shouted, thumping the steering wheel. ‘You bloody well don’t! You’re like a child with your head up in the clouds singing la-la-la to yourself and blind to what’s going on around you. But here’s the thing, Willow, it’s time now, as the mother of my child, for you to grow up and be the responsible adult you’re meant to be. And that means you don’t go off without me for cosy tête-à-têtes with other men!’

‘Our child,’ she said quietly, turning the diamond ring round on her finger.

His expression set like stone, he drove on in silence.

Then: ‘I blame that family of yours. Your parents must have over-indulged you because you’re the baby of the family. You’re a classic example of last child syndrome. Take it from me, an outsider has a more focused perspective on these things. I can see the dynamics that go on in your family much better than you can. And as for your sister, I can read her like a book.’

‘In what way?’

‘In all ways. I told you before that I was convinced that she’s jealous of you and this morning she proved it to me.’