Freddie eyed his dad suspiciously. ‘Can I have a really deep one?’

‘Sure.’

‘With extra bubbles?’

Nick chuckled. ‘With extra bubbles.’

After Paige had left, everyone said that Freddie would be fine because children were incredibly resilient, but he hadn’t realised his boy would have to put up with so much. Freddie had dealt with his mum leaving brilliantly, but to now have to put up with bullying? It seemed so unfair and yet, here he was grinning and asking for extra bubbles like it was any other day of the week. Perhaps they’d go to Bluebell Park at the weekend. Freddie always seemed at peace there. In fact, Nick had even thought about the two of them volunteering. The giving tree had given him the perfect reason and he wanted to spend time with Freddie away from the house so they could talk and bond. Freddie always spoke more freely when they were there and not sidetracked by technology or toys.

Nick left Freddie getting a drink from the fridge and headed off upstairs to run the bath. When Freddie joined him a few minutes later, Nick kept an eye on him as pulled off his T-shirt checking for bruises. Luckily, none were appearing yet. He was just about to let Freddie jump into the mass of bubbles when the doorbell rang.

‘Don’t get in the bath yet, mate, okay? Wait till I’m back.’

‘But I’m cold.’

‘Pop your dressing gown on then.’

‘Dad, I’m not a baby.’

‘You’re my baby,’ he answered with a grin. He knew it was silly. Freddie was ten years old and had bathed without supervision before, but today was different.

Nick raced down the stairs somehow hoping it was Bella, then chased the thought from his mind. The fleeting time she’d been in his brain caused a smile to pull at his lips until he opened the front door.

‘I want a word with you,’ Seymour Cole shouted, pointing his finger at Nick. His bald head was pink with cold and his flabby jowls tremored as he spoke. ‘And your son.’

Nick felt irritation rise. Who did this man think he was coming to his house and demanding to speak to his son? His son was the injured party in all of this, whatever the Coles may choose to believe. Nick kept his voice calm. ‘You can have a word with me, but you’re not getting anywhere near my son.’

‘Your son has lied and now my boy has been excluded from school.’

‘For one day, Seymour—’

‘The likes of you can call me Mr Cole.’ He raised himself up to his full diminutive height and his chest and belly poked out.