‘It isn’t usually, but I couldn’t sleep. It’s the girls’ first day back at school today and I’ve decided it’s safest if I stay out of Lily’s way,’ she said. ‘So what’s your excuse?’

‘I was worrying about Faith,’ April said, if only because Tara must be sick of hearing her complain about her unresolved feelings for her husband. Jason was consigned to the past. Her friends weren’t. ‘Do you want me to speak to her when she gets back? I don’t imagine you need this right now.’

‘Possibly not, but Faith’s always been there for me, and besides, this is a support group matter as much as it is a private one. I’ll talk to Justine and find out exactly what Nick said to her when he joined. There’s a chance we have our wires crossed.’

‘Do you think?’

Tara released a sigh. ‘No, not really.’

19

Contained in her sanctuary at the back of the shop, Tara filled the delicate macaron shells baked before dawn with hazelnut ganache. It was all she could do to stop her hand shaking. Michelle was posted out front and Tara would join her when the herds of school-run mums arrived to graze on pastries and coffee, and not before. She had ventured to the front of the shop only once so far, and it hadn’t been by choice.

Iain had arrived unexpectedly with the girls to let her know that she had been missed at home. He claimed it was Lily’s idea to come in and show off her new uniform, but his daughter had been as sullen as Molly, who was upset that she had to make do with clothes from last term. Tara had drawn on every ounce of strength she had left to offer a warm, reassuring smile, and she had felt some relief when the girls had rushed outside to greet Molly’s school friends. As she watched on, it became clear that their frowns had been reserved for Tara alone.

Retreating back to the kitchen, Tara had resumed her wait for what would be another difficult meeting. She had sent Justine a message asking if she could drop by between school runs and her race to work. It would be a push, but this was a conversation that couldn’t wait.

When the bell above the shop door jangled, the macaron shell in Tara’s hand turned to dust. Michelle’s friendly greeting confirmed the wait was over and Tara wiped her hands before going out to greet her fellow administrator.

‘I wasn’t sure you’d have time,’ Tara said.

‘Isla’s convinced me she’s old enough to get the bus to school,’ Justine said. She clutched her mobile and glanced at the screen. ‘I’ve told her to message me when she gets there, and I’m not going to relax until she does.’