With Brahms playing in the background and her wine within easy reach, Faith leafed through a travel brochure. For as long as she cared to remember, planning a holiday was her way of surviving the pre-Christmas frenzy, and a couple of travel reps had been in touch already, having noticed their most loyal customer had yet to book her next trip. Faith had kept them dangling and there was no suggestion that she might forgo a holiday next year. It was something Faith had yet to admit to herself.

A two-week cruise around the Norwegian fjords took her fancy and as she folded the corner of the page, her phone rang. Her thumb hovered over the red decline button as she took a sip of wine. With an exasperated sigh, she accepted the call.

‘Hello, Ella,’ she said affably.

Faith’s stepdaughter had made numerous attempts to call her over the weekend but irritatingly hadn’t left a voicemail. Her persistence, combined with Faith’s curiosity, had finally paid off.

‘I’m glad I caught you at last. I was getting worried.’

‘Ah, sorry about that. I treated myself to a little pamper weekend with friends,’ Faith said as she put down her glass and flexed her hand. Her attack on the garden had cost her a couple of broken nails, and her skin had acquired a roughness she didn’t like. With the money she had saved today, maybe she could afford a spa.

‘I hope you had a good time,’ Ella replied after a slight hesitation, as if she detected the lie.

Faith wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Bloody Newton had a telescope trained on the house, but no matter. A fib told with confidence was far more compelling than whispering truths.

‘Who knew a few days’ relaxation would be so exhausting?’ Faith said with a yawn. She lifted a leg out of the water and watched rivulets of scented oil glide over her skin and caress her tired muscles. ‘It’s probably my body’s reaction to all that pummelling and prodding. Those Swedish massages are brutal.’

‘I can imagine,’ Ella said, possibly convinced. Possibly not. ‘As long as you’re looking after yourself.’

If Faith didn’t do it, who would? Derek was gone.

She closed her eyes to staunch unexpected tears; she was stronger than this. She was a survivor and could face whatever life threw at her, even if it was getting harder. Only this week she had discovered that her department would face yet another reorganisation. It was an occupational hazard and, whilst Faith was good at defending her corner, it would invariably mean more duties being heaped upon her. She had no interest in acquiring new skills, she had adapted enough in her life.

Faith took another sip of wine and painted a smile on her lips loud enough for Ella to hear. ‘So what can I do for you?’