“Your idea of food is bacon and cereal. You’re not eating properly.” She filled a bowl with fresh fruit. “I assumed you weren’t set up for an invasion of people.”

“Can two people be an invasion?” Her mother’s tone was light, but she gripped the edge of the kitchen table and carefully lowered herself into a chair.

Liza was by her side in a moment. “Maybe I should take a look at your head.”

“No one else is touching my head, thank you. It already hurts quite enough. The young doctor who stitched me up warned me that it would leave a scar. As if I’m bothered by things like that at my age.”

Age.

Was this the moment to mention that it was time to consider a change?

Across the kitchen, Sean was pouring the tea.

Liza paused, nervous about disturbing the atmosphere.

She tried again to encourage a deeper conversation. “You must have been frightened.”

“I was more worried about Popeye. You know how he dislikes strangers. He must have escaped through the open door and I haven’t seen him since.”

Liza gave up. If her mother wanted to talk about the cat, then they’d talk about the cat. “He’s always been a bit of a wanderer.”

“That’s probably why we get on so well. We understand each other.”

Was it crazy to be jealous of a cat?

Her mother looked wistful and Liza resolved to do what she could to find Popeye. “If he’s not back by the morning we’ll search for him. And now I think you should have a lie-down.”

“At four in the afternoon? I’m not an invalid, Liza.” Kathleen put sugar in her tea—another unhealthy habit she refused to abandon. “I don’t want a fuss.”

“We’re not fussing. We’re here to look after you, and to—” To make you think about the future. Liza stopped.

“And to what? Persuade me to wear an emergency buzzer? I’m not doing it, Liza.”

“Mum—” She caught Sean’s warning glance but ignored it. Maybe the subject was best raised right now, so that they had the whole weekend to discuss details. “This has been a shock for all of us, and it’s time to face some difficult truths. Things need to change.”

Sean turned away with a shake of his head, but her mother was nodding.

“Things do have to change. Being hit over the head has brought me to my senses.”

Liza felt a rush of relief. Her mother was going to be reasonable. Turned out she wasn’t the only sensible person in the room.

“I’m pleased you feel that way,” she said. “I have brochures in the car, so all we have to do now is plan. And we have all weekend for that.”

“Brochures? You mean travel brochures?”

“For residential homes. We can—”

“Why would you bring those?”