She swallowed back the painful memory and tried to concentrate on spreading the peanut butter evenly over the second slice of toast, thinking as she did so that tonight was all too reminiscent of those times as a teenager when she’d stayed out late and found her father waiting up for her. Mum would be there as well, but really her role was to stop Dad from losing his temper too much. That was how it was in every relationship, she supposed, there was the strict parent and the not so strict parent. A good cop and a bad cop. With their own child, Rick, in his love for his daughter, would doubtless be overly strict and protective of her and would prevent her doing what she wanted to do. Whereas Willow would be the one to let their daughter have her freedom. Probably too much freedom.

Thinking of her mother and how she had frequently had to find a way to get round Dad, Willow tried another tack with Rick. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, turning to look at him with a smile. ‘If you don’t want me to go down to see Mum, I won’t go. It’s not that big a deal. I just wondered whether you might enjoy a bit of peace and quiet without me. I do seem to keep upsetting you at the moment. Maybe we’re both a little uptight right now, what with the baby and everything. Wouldn’t you like to spend more time at the gym, or with your friends, without worrying about me?’ Seeing friends was something Rick rarely did, in fact she couldn’t remember the last time he had, but it was a worth a try.

‘You’re my priority,’ he said, moving closer and putting a hand to her cheek, ‘not my friends. Can’t you see that I’d worry the whole time you were away from me?’

‘But I’d be perfectly safe and well with Mum. I’d be back before you’d even missed me.’

‘No,’ he said with steely finality, the palm of his hand pressed more firmly to her cheek. ‘You’re not going alone.’ He kissed her forehead, then removed his hand from her cheek. ‘Tell your mother that we’ll both come at the weekend. Or better still, tell her the weekend after would be more convenient.’

‘But Rick—’

‘No!’ he said, thumping his fist down on the worktop. He so startled her, the knife in her hand slipped from her grasp and dropped to the floor, but not before knocking against Rick’s trouser leg and one of his suede shoes and leaving a trail of greasy stains.

‘For God’s sake!’ he shouted, ‘do you have to be so bloody clumsy? Look at the mess you’ve made!’

‘Sorry,’ she said, bending awkwardly to retrieve the knife, but at the same time catching the sleeve of her cardigan on a slice of toast and that too then dropped to the floor, peanut butter side down. She sighed and, on her knees, she was about to scrape up the buttery mess when she felt herself being yanked upright by her hair and Rick was staring furiously into her face, his eyes blazing.