Naomi had spent the last few hours fussing over her. If she had any doubts that Naomi cared for her, they had dissipated now. Morgan finally realised what a brat she’d been. The incident in the woods had shaken her, and Naomi must have known from the look on her face that she needed some human contact. Any other day, she would have said something sarky and batted her stepmother away. But today, she had welcomed the gesture of support as Naomi had taken her hand. This was her little family, and even if Morgan was on the outskirts of it, they loved her – despite her faults. It warmed Morgan to see Naomi stand up to the giant of a man who had scooped her up in his arms with such little effort. She had hated being examined by the creepy doctor with the cold hands and yellow fingernails, and then there was Joanne, whose eyes said something entirely different to her words . . . Morgan shuddered.

‘Are you OK?’ Naomi said, immediately by her side. ‘Can I get you another blanket?’

‘I’m fine.’ She smiled. ‘I was thinking about that creepy old doctor.’

Naomi sat at the end of the sofa, her face thoughtful. ‘What Lloyd said about John . . . it was crap.’ She proceeded to tell her how she thought Morgan had taken the loft ladder and of her suspicions over maggots in her cakes. ‘I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions,’ Naomi said. ‘But after the prawn incident—’

‘I don’t blame you,’ Morgan interrupted. ‘I mean, I might have, but where would I get my hands on maggots around here?’

‘Exactly.’ Naomi softly chuckled at her honesty. ‘I had a word with Joanne on the way out. I told her I knew she’d put them there. It was a huge bluff, but she didn’t deny it.’ She frowned as she recalled their encounter. ‘She’s so meek around Lloyd. Seems like she’s scared of him. If I had challenged her like that in the coffee shop, I’m sure she would have argued back.’

Morgan didn’t disagree. Joanne even moved differently when she was around Lloyd, head lowered, twitching nervously.

‘And for the record, I wasn’t getting my leg over with the handyman.’ She thrust her phone in Morgan’s face, showing her a record of her call. ‘I rang him this morning, when I was stuck in the loft.’

‘I worked that one out,’ Morgan said, a blush rising to her face. ‘About Dawn . . .’

‘That’s none of my business . . .’ Naomi replied, shunting up beside her. ‘But if you want to talk, then I’m here. Your dad and I will support you a hundred per cent. Just be careful with that one . . .’ She paused, her face holding a question. ‘It wasn’t your idea to meet at that hour, was it?’

Morgan replied with a tight shake of the head.