Laura had felt sudden righteous outrage. ‘You mean he’ll be staying there with you?’

Fleur had looked at her with an expression as cold as the inside of that house. ‘Fergus is coming down with his parents and they are all staying with friends nearby for the weekend. He flies back to Singapore on Monday. They are all trying to be helpful and kind, not judging me the whole time. You can never think the best of me; it’s just too difficult isn’t it? Even in these moments when I need you more than I ever have…you are resentful.’

She clicked the suitcase shut. ‘Go to Dad.’ She said quietly. ‘Book your flight to Belfast.’

Laura had been smitten. She sat heavily on the bed. ‘I’m not resentful about not being with your father, Fleur. For heaven’s sake, you are my priority. I am trying…it’s just…’

‘You blame me for…Saffie?’

‘Of course I don’t! How could I?’

‘What, then?’

‘I guess it’s to do with trust, Fleur. Trust and betrayal.’

Fleur had gone very still. ‘Spit it out.’ She said. ‘It has sat there unsaid ever since Dad left.’

Laura had taken a deep breath. ‘You had a husband who adored you and was a wonderful father. He was our friend too, your father’s and mine. He did not deserve to be betrayed by you and his best friend.’

‘This is what you believe?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Why?’

‘Because, Fleur, it was being said all over the mess.’

‘Why, then, it must be true, Mother! Dad heard it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did he believe what he heard?’

‘I don’t believe he did.’

Fleur stood in front of Laura pale and still. ‘You know absolutely nothing about my life or my marriage to David. I betrayed no one and neither did Fergus. He was a true friend to David and to me. Do you know, Mum, at this moment I don’t like you very much…’

Then she had called a taxi and gone, leaving Laura with a bitter taste in her mouth: a raw feeling that however justified she had felt in saying the things she had to Fleur, she had misjudged the moment.

Laura put her hand up to her face and found she was crying. She sat on a small white chair in the bathroom and cried silently. Misjudged! My God! I’ve spent a lifetime doing it.

Peter was sitting up in bed when Fleur carried up her parents’ tea. She could hear her mother in the bathroom.

Peter patted the side of the bed. ‘Come and sit for a minute, darling.’

Fleur sat. ‘You’re looking better, Dad.’

‘I should jolly well hope so after three days doing absolutely bugger all. Your mother’s her old self, though, so watch out.’ He looked at her. ‘How are you really, Fleur?’

‘I’m OK, Dad, really I am.’

‘We are worried, your mother and I. What about when you get home to England to an empty house? Bit different then, we are all so far away from you.’