She had to accept that they’d never be close, no matter how much she wanted it to happen. She needed to stop hoping for that.

She’d go to France, even though that felt tainted now.

She was processing the fact that Sean saw her as a tour operator when she heard the sound of a car engine through the open window.

Kathleen straightened, one hand on the map. “That’s her. Martha. My driver. Why don’t you and Sean go and breathe in the sea air?”

Her mother didn’t want her around.

Only her sense of responsibility forced her to stay put and meet the girl. “Have you checked her credentials? How do you know she’s a safe driver?”

“The roads that lead to this house are narrow and twisty. If she managed it without having an accident, then she’s a good driver. I’ll meet her,” Kathleen said. “I don’t want you scaring her off or sending her away.” She left the kitchen and Liza stood there feeling unappreciated, alone and misunderstood.

Sean gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Narrow escape there, Liza. She might have said yes and then where would we have been?”

She would have been driving across America spending quality time with her mother.

But Kathleen didn’t want that. She’d rather spend weeks with a stranger than her own daughter. Liza wasn’t adventurous enough.

“Is that all I am to you? Someone to organize your holiday?”

“No.” Sean finished his coffee. “Although you are good at that. Thanks to you, life runs smoothly.”

The holiday, which she’d been looking forward to for so long, no longer seemed as shiny. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but she couldn’t do that with a stranger about to join them in the kitchen.

Grabbing Sean’s mug, she refilled it.

She needed to stop overthinking everything, particularly her marriage. Sean had made an insensitive comment. So what? People said the wrong thing all the time. She said the wrong thing. It was important not to overreact. She was going to throw that stupid article away.

She heard laughter from the hallway and then her mother came back into the room, accompanied by a girl who looked barely older than Caitlin.

Her curls bounced around her shoulders and her jeans and her top clung to her curves. She had a dusting of freckles on her nose and a friendly smile that made you want to smile back.

Sean stepped forward. “Nice to meet you. Martha, is it? Good journey?”

“Great, thanks. Straight through from London.”

Liza looked at her stupidly. “You came by train?”

“Train, and I splurged on a taxi from the station. He moaned all the way.” Martha seemed sympathetic rather than annoyed. “Something about the roads being too narrow and the hedges too high.”

She made Liza feel old. “I assumed you’d drive.”