There were ten applicants back in March for the temporary position to cover Alice’s absence while she came to terms with losing her dad. Faith had stood out. She fitted into the shop’s Gothic style, and came across as likeable and intelligent when Alice interviewed her. She has never regretted her decision to take her on. Apart from a visit to see family in August, she’s kept the shop ticking over so well.

‘So, how did the date go?’ Alice asks, changing the subject.

Faith has seen two men since Alice met her, both complete disasters, and the one she’s presently seeing sounds like a moron. She seems to have a habit of picking arrogant idiots.

‘It went great.’ Faith’s face brightens. She takes a gulp of wine. Grabs a handful of cheesy snacks.

‘Should you eat those?’ Alice says. Faith is mildly lactose intolerant.

‘Of course – it’s not real cheese.’ She laughs, pops one into her mouth, and munches. ‘I like Mitch a lot, actually. He could be “the one”.’

‘Really?’ Alice knows her tone is a little judgemental, though she doesn’t mean to be. For all she knows Mitch Fisher could be Mr Wonderful. And it’s Faith’s life, not hers. She’s hardly made a success of her own love life.

‘Yes! Really.’ Faith laughs. ‘Seriously. I like him.’

‘Well, that’s good. I’m happy for you.’

Alice splashes more wine into both glasses. ‘The police called earlier,’ she says. ‘Just before you arrived.’ She takes a breath. ‘They’re no longer looking into my dad’s hit and run.’

Faith widens her eyes, shoots forward in her seat. ‘Oh my God, why not?’

Alice shrugs. ‘The case is still open.’ She takes a gulp of wine. ‘But they still have no leads.’

Faith reaches across, takes hold of Alice’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine.’

‘No, no it’s not fine. It’s bloody awful.’

‘Maybe something will turn up at some point.’ But she suspects they will never find the person who took her father from her.

*

It’s gone eleven when Faith gets up and attempts to push creases from her dungarees. ‘I should make a move,’ she says, as Henry pads over. She gives his ears a gentle rub. ‘You’re such a lovely boy, aren’t you?’

‘He is.’ Alice rises too, stretches her arms above her head. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without him over the last few months. He’s a good friend.’

Faith’s gaze drifts through into the dining room, focusing on Alice’s sculpture on the table. ‘Wow! Did you make that?’

Alice nods, and makes her way into the dining area, Faith right behind her. She rests her hand on the sculpture she found in the loft earlier. ‘It’s called Gothic House. I made it a long time ago, when I first started sculpting.’