“You will come back though, won’t you? There’s no one who loves selling medical equipment like you do, and no one who does it better.”

She blushed and smiled.

GNS Medical Supplies was sold to a multinational company two years later and its range absorbed into that of its new owner. Faye lost touch with George, Ellen and Cynthia.

There’s no one who loves selling medical equipment like you do, and no one who does it better. It was silly, she knew, but George’s words were imprinted on her mind. She’d never said them out loud, but sometimes replayed them in her head. Even so, the memory of her old colleague’s praise and her record of success at GNS—her monthly sales figures were unprecedented—hadn’t been enough to persuade Faye she was capable of returning to the workplace when Zach started school. Neither did reminiscing convince her that she’d achieved anything remarkable, particularly when held up against what Michelle had accomplished.

“Hi.”

It was Clare. Faye dropped the lid back on the box as if she’d been caught shoplifting. Food! Why was she staring at the food when the girl returned?

“Hello,” she said, wishing she was able to respond more coolly. “You’re okay . . . um . . . feeling better?”

“Yes, thanks.”

There was an awkward silence.

Clare shrugged off her jacket and put it on a bench. “I guess we’re here for the night?”

“Ja.” Faye looked outside. “It doesn’t look like it’ll let up any time soon.”

“I hope the others are okay.”

“They are, I’m sure of that. If the river was flooded, they would’ve returned by now. No doubt they’ll be a little hungry if the rangers aren’t able to reach them either, but otherwise, they’ll be fine.”

Clare nodded. “What were you doing?” she asked, tipping her head towards the food containers.

“Just having a look, seeing what I have.”

“Were you going to cook?”

“Maybe.” Faye shrugged. “I was bored. Thought I might as well do something.”

“Can I help you?”

“Of course. I wasn’t sure what I’d make. Perhaps pasta with cream and cheese.”

“That sounds good. Let’s have a look what we have in our box. Mom packed it, so . . .”

“Ah! In that case!”

They chuckled.

It was Clare who suggested adding more ingredients to the cheese sauce—she’d found shallots and cacciatore in one of the boxes Michelle had packed.

“But won’t your father be annoyed if we eat his meat? He might have plans for it,” said Faye.

“He has no idea what’s in here. Anyway, we won’t use it all,” replied Clare, taking a cutting board from the box. Slim and grey, it looked like it was made from slate.

Faye leaned forward for a closer look. “Is that—”