Issy nodded noncommittally. ‘Yes, I think he’s basically fine, but there does seem to be something worrying him. Can’t quite get to the bottom of it yet, though. Interestingly, I don’t think it has anything to do with his father. I’d say it was something to do with school.’

‘Really? He didn’t mention bullying, did he?’

‘That was a line of enquiry I pursued but Rory was not receptive. He’s a deep young man, plays his emotional cards close to his chest.’

‘Yes he does, a bit like David used to until he lost it last year.’

Issy was buttoning her coat. ‘Well, that’s the problem with people who find it hard to express emotion. And men are always the worst. It’s like a bubbling volcano: it’s out of sight, getting hotter and hotter, until one day it can no longer contain itself, so it bursts in spectacular fashion.’

‘Yes.’ Angelina looked preoccupied.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Millar?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m tired, that’s all. Must be all the stress of the past few days.’

‘You must take care of yourself.’

‘And . . . Julian, my partner, seems to have gone AWOL. I’m sure he’s fine but I haven’t heard from him since last night and he hasn’t arrived in his office yet, which is most unlike him.’

Issy raised her eyebrows. ‘Men, eh? Totally unreliable. Try not to worry.’

‘Yes.’ Angelina nodded without conviction.

‘Now, Mrs Millar, if this weather does continue to deteriorate, I reckon I’m going to be stranded here until tomorrow. Would you mind if I came to see Rory again? I think I gained his trust today and it might be he feels safe to open up to me a little more.’

‘Of course,’ Angelina replied automatically. Her mind was on Julian.

‘I’ll let myself out,’ said Issy, heading for the kitchen door. ‘Try not to fret about your partner. I’m sure he’ll tip up soon with a perfectly reasonable excuse for driving you insane with worry. Goodbye, and thank you for the coffee.’

After Issy had gone, Angelina heated some tinned soup on the Aga and put some rolls in to warm. She set the table for herself and Rory, then decided to have a glass of wine to calm her nerves. Rory tripped into the kitchen and sat down as his mother put his bowl of soup in front of him.

‘Eat it all up, Rory. You’re far too skinny.’

‘I’m like Dad, that’s the way I’m made.’ Rory picked up his spoon.

‘Did Issy tell you the good news?’

‘No, what?’

‘That Dad has been released without charge.’

Rory froze, his soup spoon suspended in mid-air.

‘But . . . if he said he did it, why won’t they believe him?’

‘I don’t know the ins and outs, darling, but I’m sure they wouldn’t have released him if they thought he had done it. Anyway, isn’t it good news?’

Rory forced a nod. ‘Yes, of course it is,’ he said quietly.