‘Oh, Amy, darling, we have to let him go!’ said Isobel wearily. ‘This is different. She’s his mother for heaven’s sake. She has something called parental rights.’

Across the room, Amy, white-faced, stared directly at Giles.

‘And what about his father?’ she asked, her voice very quiet but piercingly clear. ‘What about him? Doesn’t he have rights too – and responsibilities?’

There was a deadly silence. Then Amy rushed out of the kitchen and slammed the door so hard that everything on the newly laid table rattled as though the house had suddenly been hit by a hurricane.

Chapter Nineteen

Isobel sat down at the table and buried her head in her hands. Giles had looked stunned at Amy’s utterance. Then with an obvious effort he got himself in hand.

He turned apologetically to Louisa, mortified that she should have had to witness such a private family scene. ‘I’m desperately sorry about all that – thank goodness you’re family and there’s no one else here.’ Trying for a lighter note, he said: ‘Imagine what Bunty would have made of it! Look after my wife for me for a bit, Louisa – I need to go and find my daughter.’ He touched Isobel lightly on the cheek. ‘Don’t wait lunch for us, Izzy,’ he said, ‘we’ll come and help ourselves later. And don’t look so agonised, my love. You told me I needed to clear a few things up with Amy. Looks like I’ve got my chance. We’ll sort things out. Will you be all right?’

‘I suppose so.’ Isobel gave a watery smile. ‘Not much choice – but oh, Giles, poor little Rory.’

‘I know,’ said her husband. ‘I know . . . we have to do some serious thinking about the future.’

He found Amy where he thought she might have gone – down below the south terrace, through a small gate and into the wild garden that had always been the children’s special play area.