The high-pitched sugary tone caused both girls to return an ugly grimace.

Brooke’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why didn’t you arrange counselling for me, Mother?’

What? Rebecca wasn’t the least bit prepared for that question and appeared visibly awkward, her eyes darting around the room. Stunned by that searching question, she bit her lip and retreated speedily to the kitchen.

In just three hours, the strength Poppy had given Brooke was immeasurable. It was a pivotal moment in her life. Brooke leaped to her feet and was immediately followed by Poppy. They marched into the kitchen and stood there blocking the doorway, so that their mother couldn’t run off again and bury her head in the sand.

‘I said, why didn’t you get me the help I needed?’

Rebecca turned her back on her daughters to fill the kettle.

‘Mother!’ bellowed Brooke.

In a fit of rage, Rebecca spun around. ‘For goodness’ sake, do you not think I have enough to deal with? Kendall’s dead, in case you two have forgotten. Can’t I even grieve in peace?’

It was Poppy’s opportunity to take the initiative and her debating skills, which had won her awards at school, gave her the confidence to answer her mother back with logical and rational argument. ‘Yes, we know Kendall is dead. We’re all well aware of that, Mother. But where is your duty of care to us as a parent?’

Rebecca’s face was a picture as she just stared goggle-eyed at her daughter’s use of words.

But Poppy wasn’t finished, not by a long chalk. She continued. ‘And in case you’re ignorant of the fact, you should know we’re also grieving, but, if I remember rightly . . . ’ her voice now the height of sarcasm, ‘Brooke was attacked weeks ago. So, your excuse for her not receiving help is . . . ?’

Rebecca’s eyes looked cold, dark, and spiteful. ‘Because, you stupid, stupid girl, we are in the public eye, and if anyone had an inkling, the press would have Brooke’s face plastered all over every bloody newspaper in the country. So, it would only make matters worse.’

Poppy was about to launch into another argument when Brooke put her hand up to stop her. ‘But at what point, Mother, did you feel you should be making decisions like that on my behalf? Did it not ever occur to you that it may be an idea to discuss this with me? I mean, if having my face on the front of the newspapers would in some way help to find those animals and prevent it happening again, then why would I mind?’

‘It’s your future, Brooke, I’m trying to protect. It would destroy you, having reporters hounding you in the streets for photos. Your life would be horrific. I just wanted the best for you, that’s all.’