‘Oh yes, that’s a good idea, because we get on so well.’ Bella gave a haughty toss of her head.

Ben walked over to her and pulled her into an embrace. Her body was stiff and unyielding. ‘Please, Bella, don’t turn this into a feud. They’re my parents and they’re Elodie’s grandparents. I don’t want them to become strangers.’

He felt Bella soften slightly as he spoke and she lifted her face to look at him, reminding him just how truly beautiful she was. ‘I’m sorry, Ben. I just … feel that your mum doesn’t like me and it’s really hurtful.’

‘She does like you.’ Ben tried to quell the urge to tell her that her own behaviour had been far more hurtful towards his mum, especially keeping her away from her first grandchild. ‘So don’t go looking for insults and slights. Just be yourself and they will love you as much as I do.’

Bella smiled, immediately lighting up her delicate, heart-shaped face. ‘I love you, too. I’m just so tired all the time. How about we get an early night?’

Ben grinned, all irritation instantly forgotten and feeling a surge of love for his gorgeous wife. ‘There was a time when that would have meant something else entirely. And do you know what? Even though I know you’re only talking about going to sleep, I can’t think of anything I’d love more.’

‘Who says I’m only talking about going to sleep?’ Bella gave him a seductive look over her shoulder as she took his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom.

Chapter Ten

‘Gosh, I’m so nervous that my hands are sweating!’ Jo shook her head and tried to laugh but found that she couldn’t. ‘It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?’

Peter glanced in the rear-view mirror, before pulling out and overtaking an ancient campervan that was dawdling along the dual carriageway in front of them. ‘I’d say it’s perfectly understandable, given the way she’s behaved.’

Jo shot him a grateful look. She should never have doubted it, but she was pathetically relieved that he hadn’t blamed her for the rift.

After Bella and Ben had stormed out, she had spent the whole of Christmas Day crying. Emma had more or less passed out on the sofa, having drunk half a bottle of whisky to alleviate the shock of her accident, while Peter had finished preparing a lunch that none of them wanted, leaving Jo to sob into her wine glass.

‘It’ll be OK,’ Peter had reassured her, although the tiny muscle pulsating in his cheek had given the lie to his words.

‘It won’t!’ Jo wailed. ‘She’s won, Peter. She wanted him all to herself and now she’s got him. I can’t believe I thought we’d struck lucky with her because she wouldn’t want to take Ben away from us – how wrong could I have been! If only I hadn’t opened my big bloody mouth.’

Peter’s own mouth had set in a hard, straight line. ‘It wouldn’t have made any difference. If it wasn’t that, it would have been something else. She was just waiting for her moment.’