Chapters (48)
- Cover
- Praise
- About the Author
- Also by Tricia Stringer
- Title Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- Excerpt
- One
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“After what Granny said about Dad doing something to upset her.” Laura got to the end of the table and wrung her hands. “What if he has?”
“They’ll work it out.”
Laura stalked back down the kitchen and stopped right in front of her, eyes wide. The sickly sweetness of her perfume wafted on the air around her. “What if Mum’s actually left him and this holiday thing is all a cover-up.”
Bree paused at the thought then brushed it aside. “Don’t be ridiculous. Mum and Dad have a rock-solid marriage. She wouldn’t leave. I’m more concerned about the stuff with Connie. That’s probably playing on Dad’s mind too.”
They both froze as the door opened behind them. Kate stuck her head in, looked from one sister to the other. “What are you two up to?”
Bree frowned. She hadn’t seen Kate at breakfast this morning or at lunch. Her face was pale and her skin blotchy, as if she’d been crying.
“We’re keeping the heat in,” Bree said.
Kate came all the way in and shut the door. She was huddled inside a thick sloppy jumper and even though the kitchen was warm, she looked almost blue with cold.
“We’re talking about Dad,” Laura said.
“I’ve just looked in on him. He’s asleep in his chair. Do you think he’s okay?”
Bree groaned. “He’s probably tired. It’s been a big couple of weeks.”
“We think he and Mum have had a fight,” Laura said.
“What?” Kate said.
“We do not,” Bree snapped.
“Granny thinks they did. Why else would Mum go off without telling us?”
“She told Dad where she was going, not us,” Bree said. “If she’d been mad at him it would have been the other way round, wouldn’t it?”
“Perhaps she’s mad with us too.”
“Why?” Kate slumped into a chair then got up again, switched the kettle on and put a tea bag in a cup. “Anyone else want one?”
Both Bree and Laura shook their heads.
“I guess she might not be happy about you leaving, Bree.” Kate spoke in that know-all older sister voice that annoyed the hell out of Bree. “She’s been trying to get Dad to take a holiday,” Kate went on. “But I can’t imagine she’d be that upset. And your hair was a bit of a shock, Laura, but it’s Dad who flies off the handle about those kinds of things, not Mum. And unless someone’s told her I presume she doesn’t know about the tattoo.”