Eric distributes tea and sits down next to Blake, who passes him a piece of cake.

“Thanks for your help,” Eric says. “Nice work.”

Blake’s cheeks redden. He takes an enormous bite of cake.

“What help?” Martin asks.

“Blake’s pruned a heck of a lot of trees,” Eric says, smiling at Blake. “He’s a great worker.”

Poppy walks around the table, serving out more birthday cake. Melissa takes a bite; Grace wants to cheer though she knows she shouldn’t.

Eve looks at her daughter. “Happy birthday, darling.”

Sorrel looks around uncertainly as if searching for somebody who isn’t there: Ash, maybe Paul as well, the ghosts of the dead and living seem to hover. Eve is a ghost too, thinner, paler. She sits completely still at the table, staring at her daughters, forgetting to eat. Eric is next to her but they don’t talk to each other, another wounded couple who may not make it through.

“How’s Izzy doing?” Grace asks Melly later as they load the dishwasher after tea. Izzy is playing cards with her friends out of earshot.

“Really well.” Melly straightens, pushes her hair out of her eyes, and smiles.

“And the new trial?”

“That won’t be for ages and she doesn’t have to attend. She’s had two interviews with the forensic team.”

“I bet that was tough.”

“Not as tough as an examination would have been.” Melissa’s voice sounds strained. “She refused that though and they didn’t push. They said if they did, she might experience it as another, well, as another assault. Any findings would have been minimal anyway; it’s been months since the last . . . incident took place.”

“It’s great they were prepared to accept her story.”

“The story is all they get in lots of cases like Izzy’s. And the school report helped; her grades were lower than expected and there’s been some antisocial behavior which apparently fits; it’s hardly surprising when you think about it.”

“How is she now?” Grace glances across the room, where the children are playing together. Izzy’s head is bent over the game.

“So much better. She’s in counseling, we both are. I’m not allowed to know much, but her counselor let slip she’s quite defensive. I think that’s good; in my mind that means she’s a survivor.”

“She gets that gene from you.” Grace transfers the rest of the chocolate cake to the fridge but leaves one slice on a plate, nudging it along the draining board. “I think you’re the strongest of all of us, Melly.”

Melissa flushes with pleasure. She looks younger these days; her face is rounder and she keeps her hair loose. She doesn’t wear those tight little scarves anymore.

“He says she needs peace, no upheavals.” Melly begins to eat the cake.

You do too, Grace thinks to herself, that wretched man. “Have you found a buyer for the house yet?”

“Three. Eve says we can stay as long as we like, but I’m looking for somewhere nearby. It shouldn’t take long.”