Michael.

Don’t think of him today.

I look around the workshop, mentally naming objects to switch my mind off bad thoughts.

Silicone glue. Silicone paint. Mould. Plaster of Paris. Movie script.

Skywalker trots into the workshop, sniffing the shopping bags.

‘Hey, pup.’ Nick reaches to pet him, but Skywalker barks and runs off.

I give Nick a sympathetic smile. ‘Baby steps, right? Listen, let’s start dinner. I need a distraction.’

‘She’ll be home any minute,’ says Nick. ‘When I was sixteen—’

‘I know. You were hiking alone in the Peak District.’ I lift the shopping bags of sourdough bread, tofu and asparagus. ‘How did that girl of mine get to like all this fancy food? When I was a teenager, all I ate was hot dogs and noodles.’

‘It’s great Libs eats mindfully,’ says Nick. ‘I’m proud of her.’

I bristle at the word ‘proud’ because I know Liberty would. It’s hard, this stepfamily stuff, and somehow Nick always manages to say the wrong thing.

I kiss his cheek. ‘Thanks for getting the groceries, honey.’

‘Anything to get into Liberty’s good books. Do you think she’ll get the results she wants today?’

‘Oh, sure. I never worry about Liberty in the smarts department. She’s so clever.’

Like her father.

I shake the thought away.

‘Anyway, they’re only mock exams,’ I continue. ‘No big deal.’

‘Well, she’s had plenty of time to study,’ says Nick.

‘Oh, yeah,’ I laugh. ‘I never let her out.’

I mean this as a joke, but it comes out sort of sinister.

‘Don’t you think it’s time to let Liberty out in the evenings?’ Nick asks. ‘She’s old enough. I was working at her age.’

‘We have different parenting styles, Nick. I parent Liberty my way, you parent Darcy yours.’

‘We’re supposed to be a team. Teams work together. We have two kids between us. We should parent them both together. Like a family. And we do parent Darcy together. It’s just Liberty—’

‘Look, I know the principle is a good one. But the kids are different ages.’

‘Why can’t I be a dad to Liberty? You’re amazing with Darcy. Better than her own mother sometimes …’

‘God, don’t say that, Nick. Darcy’s mom is doing her best. It’s a tough job raising a little girl with special needs.’

‘Yeah, okay. But you have to admit, Michelle doesn’t get Darcy like you do. The special needs thing doesn’t fit with her image.’ He makes a face. ‘You’re different. You don’t care if Darcy screams her head off in public. And Darcy loves you for that, Lorna. She feels safer here than she does at Michelle’s house. If you can parent her, why can’t I try with Libs?’

‘Liberty’s sixteen.’

‘Exactly. Sixteen. Don’t you think it’s time to loosen the reins and let her live a little?’