She sighed as she thought of her mother. Cynthia, she knew, loved the kids – it was in a way her only saving grace – but she had moved heaven and earth to stop Gabby, their own mother, from being any part of their lives. Gabby blamed herself of course. After Vincent had been captured yet again, and she had seen herself once more on her own with another child, she had hit rock bottom. Coming so quickly after her nana’s death, it had all but destroyed her. It had taken her three long years to get herself back on her feet, and she was determined to make sure that her children came back to her where they belonged. She had promised Vincent that she would get them back, and she intended to keep that promise. He had been a great help to her even though he was far away, and he gave her the confidence she needed to fight her mother. It was so hard fighting Cynthia because she always, always, seemed to be in the right.

Cynthia didn’t seem to be particularly worried about her daughter’s problems. She was so tied up with her grandchildren, she didn’t have the time or inclination to care about her relationship with her own child – the very same child who had borne the only two people Cynthia loved. Gabby appreciated all that her mother had done, but then surely any mother would have done that for her daughter? So why couldn’t Cynthia go the whole hog, and let her have the kids back? Why was she so determined to make sure that they had the least possible contact with her? It felt personal, as if her mother was punishing her for wrongs, real or imagined.

When she had spoken to her psychiatrist, something he had said had rung very true with Gabby. ‘Psychopathic personalities can emulate the emotions and actions of the people around them, even though they could never experience those actual emotions for themselves.’ He had been talking about her brother but, for some reason, it had made her think of her mother. She had felt a deep disloyalty at that because, when all was said and done, her mother had stepped into the breech when she had been needed. But now she was no longer needed. It wasn’t as if Gabby would stop Cynthia seeing them ever again – she knew how close they were to their nanny. She could only dream that one day they would love her that much. But for now she would be content to be a part of their lives. She wanted them back home with her and, eventually, with their father Vincent. Her mother was making it all so difficult, and that was what hurt her the most.