They were in a restaurant on the other side of town. It was a different woman this time. She looked beautiful, so much younger than me . . .

I dropped the page as if the words had burned my fingers. I had always known that women found Dad attractive. You only had to see how they reacted around him to realize that, but I hadn’t known that he had been tempted to stray beyond the marital bed. But that’s what these words Mum had written were suggesting, weren’t they? And looking at the number of pages spread out around me, this clearly wasn’t a one-off she was recording.

For a while I sat in stunned silence and then my anger began to grow.

I was floored by my father’s blatant hypocrisy. How could a man who championed family loyalty above everything else, treat his wife with such little respect? What gave him the right to keep banging on about family values and family first, when he had been seen out in a restaurant, wining and dining another woman who was evidently nothing to do with our family at all?

I wanted to read more, but my head was beginning to spin again. I thought of Mum’s packed wardrobes. How she had put a brave face on things and presented a pristine façade to the world when the truth behind the mask was one of sadness and heartbreak. Up until now I had never really understood why Dad was incapable of grieving for her, but now I realized he hadn’t loved her at all.

Suddenly I didn’t much care whether I was letting Dad down or if Chris was capable of running the office or not. I had to get away as soon as I could and I was going to take Mum’s diary with me.

*

I was back at work early the next morning and, following my mother’s example, I was immaculately made up, dressed to impress and ensconced behind my desk long before any of the others arrived.

I had been hard pushed not to drive over to the house and confront Dad, but common sense won out. I wouldn’t be talking to him until I had read everything Mum had written and I had my emotions firmly back under control. All I wanted from this early appearance at the office was to maintain my composure and take off with my dignity intact.

‘Tess,’ said Chris, his confident stride across the floor faltering when he spotted me. ‘We weren’t expecting you in. Are you sure you’re all right to be here?’

‘Yes,’ I said as I briskly grouped together the papers on my desk. ‘Thank you. I’m fine now.’

‘What have you got there?’ he frowned, beadily eyeing the file.

‘The Vicky Price contract and paperwork.’

‘Oh.’

‘I wanted to make sure nothing had been overlooked.’