‘Shall I make a sandwich for you to take with you?’ she said to Leo, her voice carefully controlled as she opened the fridge and stared at the contents. ‘I’ve got some ham – the one you like – and cheese. There’s salad …’

Leo looked panicky, running his fingers nervously through his short curls. ‘I’m OK, thanks, Mum,’ he said. ‘In fact I should get going – if you think you can manage, that is. There’s a really important meeting this afternoon.’ He looked at her guiltily. ‘But if you need me, of course I’ll stay …’

Her son knew she would let him go. She’d always managed, as far as Leo was concerned. ‘Go on, then,’ she said, then added, ‘But can you come back over the weekend? Daniel isn’t working Saturdays or Sundays, as you know, until Andreas leaves and he moves in full time, when we can arrange his days off to suit us all. And I don’t want to be on my own with your dad until he’s stronger. I’m not sure if I could hold him if he topples.’

‘Of course, Mum,’ he replied distractedly, as he got up from the table. She could tell he was itching to be off and would probably have agreed to anything in that moment.

‘Lucky old Rex, eh?’ Leo said, as he gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. ‘Bet he’s on his surfboard right now, skimming through those waves on Bondi, soaking up the rays, not a care in the world.’

Romy laughed. ‘Even surfing seems preferable?’ She knew Leo was not a fan of his brother’s passion, admitting at an early age, one summer holiday, that he was frightened of the comparatively tame waves at Newquay. A fear Romy respected and thought immensely sensible, although Michael had seen it as a sign of weakness. ‘I know you’re under pressure, sweetheart, but we need to pull together at the moment. I can’t do this without you.’

‘I know, I know. And I’ll be here, Mum. Promise.’ He was obviously trying to sound reassuring, although she heard only reluctance – but she loved him for making the effort.

‘Great,’ she said, letting out a small sigh. ‘Thank you.’

Romy stood by the window, listening to him thumping down the carpeted stairs, the slam of the outside door and the faint sound of his shoes as he hurried along the covered walkway of glass and wrought iron that led to the pavement. Then she watched his retreating figure disappearing down the street, her mouth dry, her head aching from the morning’s tension.