It was good to be back in Ballycove. The journey home had flown. She and Pete had talked and laughed for most of the few hours it took to cross the country. Liv sank into the sofa next to her sister in the early hours of the morning. Both Maya and her father had sat up to wait for her. There was a lovely ease to sitting there, staring into the dying fire while her father sipped a hot toddy.

Her dad was a big armchair of a man. He was comfortable, solid, a little worn about the edges, but you knew where you were with him. He’d been taller once, but he was still broad, red-faced and there was no missing the vitality of him when you had his full attention. He never missed the daily newspaper, although, these days he caught it on the iPad Maya had talked him into. Better for the environment, he chuckled. He’d taken over this farm from his Uncle Mike, turned it over to organically producing award-winning produce; he loved life, pure and simple, from the hedgehogs in the fields to the stars in the skies. He managed to rear his family and, with a little skimping and saving, send them to college for the careers they’d wanted. As far as he was concerned, he’d lived a small, quiet life and Liv absolutely adored him.

It was obvious both her parents had been looking forward to having her home; she should make it her business to come back more often. There was nothing stopping her, not when her shifts ran into each other every few weeks and meant she regularly had four days off in a row. Except Eddie of course; he always seemed to have something lined up for her to do when those little breaks came her way.

Liv looked at her watch. It was too late to call Eddie now. At some point, her phone’s battery had died, so there was no way of telling if he’d rung her either; although, knowing Eddie he probably hadn’t – time just seemed to slip away from him when he came back to Ballycove. Liv always blamed this on his mother.

No doubt, he was tucked in safe and sound with Barbara clucking maternally about the house, making sure he was warm enough and that his clothes were ready for the following day. Yes. Really. He admitted that when he came home for the weekend, he still brought his laundry, because no-one could iron a shirt like his mother.