I haven’t been back to the garden since the Lewises’ New Year’s party. I didn’t mind when the house was empty. Even if I’d been caught, all I was doing was making it nicer—weeding and pruning the overgrown plants. It wasn’t like I was one of the kids trashing the place and spray-painting the walls. But the boys are away, Sean off with some of his posh private school friends and Jack wherever he’s working and Ellie is…gone. Julia is living at our house and I guess Greg is at work. He’s away a lot, building his houses, growing his empire. I don’t know why they bothered moving here in the first place.

It’s not too bad, is my first thought when I step into the garden. The side gate is locked now, but the wall is low and easy to climb, even for me. I haven’t touched the place in nearly a year, but someone has. No new weeds and the roses look better than when I was looking after them, glossy leaves and massive blooms. There are even some new plants, gathered in pots by the back door, waiting to be planted. Did Sean do this? Greg said he was the gardener in the family. Or was it Julia who did it? Was she going to take over our garden now, erase any lingering trace of my mother from the overgrown mess our garden had become since Mum died?

I stroke one of the leaves on the climbing roses, careful not to touch the thorns.

“So you’re my phantom gardener.”

I spin round, ready to run when I hear the voice behind me. “I’m sorry—I thought you were away.” I stop. “Not that I come here when the house is empty. I’m not…”

“It’s okay. I’m not planning to call the police. Sean’s given up and God knows I could use the help.”

There’s laughter in his voice and I can feel my cheeks glowing as I look at him.

“Here,” Greg says, holding out some clippers and a pair of gardening gloves. “I’ve had them ready for when you returned.”

“I’m sorry about Julia,” I say as I pat compost around the newly planted rosebush. He’d left me alone for an hour but then came out with two mugs of tea, standing watching me so I felt an itch on the back of my neck from his presence.

“It’s fine, Tess,” he says, passing me a watering can. “I’m not going to pretend I’m happy about it, but her leaving was in the cards as soon as Ellie died.”