She smiled, and her neat pearls of white teeth sparkled. ‘Oh, that would be lovely. What do you think, Poppy?’ she asked, full of excitement.

Poppy looked at Liam. ‘Will you stay for a while, then? I mean, I don’t actually know Lance. I only know that he was Kendall’s father.’

Liam felt it was his responsibility to sit beside her, and so he took it one step further and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Yeah, we’ll make sure you’re safe, won’t we, Art?’

Arty grinned. The day was getting better by the minute. Then his face dropped. ‘Your father. You don’t think he was behind the attack on Ricky and your sister, do ya?’ He looked Brooke’s way, aiming the question at her.

Her face suddenly lost its sparkle. ‘Well, yeah, it’s possible because something’s not right. He was like a different person. He actually frightened me. Me, afraid of my own father. Anyway, I just don’t want to go back there, not after the grim look on his face.’

‘Okay, I’ll pop up the road, grab us a bite to eat, and hopefully, me dad will have his phone back on by then, and they’ll know what to do.’

Just as he opened the front door, he came face-to-face with a tall, broad, dark-haired man, with a snarl that would shit the life out of the king of the jungle. Not knowing if he was Lance or the girls’ father, he stepped back but squared his shoulders as he did so. ‘Who are you?’

Lance grabbed Arty’s shoulders and propelled him backwards down the entrance hall. He was in two minds whether to beat the shit out of the lad but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment. His words though were frightening enough. ‘Not relevant! So, who the fuck are you?’ he replied, with a deep, hoarse voice.

‘Lance, it’s okay. It’s . . . er, they brought Poppy back!’ said Brooke, now standing in the hallway.

Lance let go of Arty’s polo shirt, but the determined scowl didn’t leave his face. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded again.

‘Arty Stafford. I’m friends with Ricky Regan, er . . . Kendall’s boyfriend.’

It took a moment before Lance could make sense of what Arty had just said. ‘Did you say Stafford?’

Arty nodded, now beginning to read Lance’s body language and see the change in the man’s tone. ‘Yeah, and me mate’s Liam. We brought Poppy back from the hospital.’

Lance marched into the lounge to find Liam in the doorway and Poppy with her foot up and in plaster, her face badly bruised. ‘Fucking hell! Who did that?’ he demanded.

Poppy looked a little shaken, hearing Lance’s deep voice. ‘Well, actually, it was my mum. She ran me over.’