Trembling a little, she had quietly retreated downstairs, latching onto the idea of tackling the garden instead as she’d caught a glimpse of it through the landing window. Equipment would be required, and even that had been a pleasing distraction. She had made a list, using a page in Viv’s now thoroughly violated journal, always to hand on the kitchen table, and then, typically, forgotten to take the list with her. Nonetheless, ten minutes in, and Esther was in danger of finding the shopping enjoyable. Her trolley had grown so laden it was getting difficult to push and contained several major items that had not made it onto the list, including a giant pair of shears, gloves the size of gauntlets, a small wheelbarrow, and an electric lawnmower, neatly packaged in a big green box. That she hadn’t held back was partly thanks to an unexpected proposal from her healthcare company’s HR department in her inbox that morning, offering a monthly retainer on top of the big rebranding project she was already signed up for. The luxury of having a little money was not having to expend as much energy thinking about it, Esther decided, recklessly tossing a hefty pair of secateurs onto her pile.

Nine days on, and with September looming, the brief sojourn in France felt a world away, but Brian and Viv had only got back the night before. Having deliberately been leaving them in peace, apart from updates about Dylan, Esther had seized the chance to phone that morning in order to reiterate her thanks and apologies.

‘Esther.’

‘Viv, so you’re back? Did you get my messages?’

‘Yes, and yes. Thanks. Lots to get on top of here, as you can imagine…’

‘Of course. Just checking you are all okay and wanting to say another massive thank-you for—’

‘No need, Esther – honestly. And great news about Dylan being in touch. He’ll come home soon enough, walking taller, maybe even fluent in French.’

‘Oh, thank you, Viv – that’s just what Brian said when—’

‘Did he? Oh good. And Paris is pretty close, isn’t it? Which sort of helps. I should imagine.’ The old warm readiness to offer advice still wasn’t quite there, and she was a fool for phoning at such an inopportune time, Esther scolded herself. The first morning back after a long holiday – who had time to chat then? She switched quickly instead to suggesting a date when she might express her thanks by having them both over to dinner. Her own diary was virtually empty, apart from her September spa treat with Lily, but it took until the last Saturday in October – Halloween – before Viv conceded that this was a date that might work.

‘But, Vivvie, that’s ages away…’