Setting down her wine on a side table in the living room, Faith rolled up the travel brochure into a tight cylinder and fed it to the log burner that had been left ready to light. Faith would fight with all she had to keep Derek’s legacy, and if that meant chipping more fingernails and sacrificing more luxuries, so be it. She flicked a match and as she watched flames lick at the glossy paper, her phone rang.

Faith was in no mood to continue her discussion with Ella, but when she realised it was an unknown number, she felt no relief.

‘Hello?’ the caller asked when Faith offered no greeting. ‘Is that you, Faith?’

‘Who is this?’ she asked, feigning ignorance.

‘Erm, it’s Nick,’ he said. ‘I hope you don’t mind me disturbing you.’

‘What can I do for you?’ she asked, leaving him to decide if she approved of him disturbing her or not. In fairness, his guess would be as good as hers.

After realising Nick had tricked her into giving him her number, Faith had been more annoyed at herself than him. She had let her guard down, having assumed she was in safe company in the support group, and Nick had taken advantage of that.

‘It’s our next meeting on Tuesday and since we’re practically neighbours, I wondered if you wanted a lift,’ he said. ‘Steve keeps inviting me over to the pub and I thought you might be tempted if we can go in one car. I don’t mind not drinking.’

Nick had gone from offering a lift to inviting her out for a drink in one deft move. Though she was quietly impressed, his efforts were wasted. ‘I never go to the pub, which makes me think we’d be better travelling separately,’ she said. ‘Some of us have work the next day.’

‘Oh, that’s right. You’re a bio-something scientist,’ he replied, his tongue tripping over the syllables, a telltale sign that he didn’t always pass on the opportunity for a drink. ‘Maybe you could tell me more about it when I pick you up – as long as you use small words. I was never good at science.’

‘I think you’re cleverer than you let on.’

Nick let out a groan and Faith could hear the scrape of a palm rubbing against stubble. ‘I used to think so,’ he admitted. ‘And I’m hoping the group will help me regain my confidence. I felt so much better after the last meeting. A lot of what you said about grief being a random mix of emotion struck a nerve.’