I get back to Dad’s house just after eight. I couldn’t stay with Sophie in the end—the unfamiliar awkwardness got too much. But she hugged me as I left, clinging to me and whispering apologies. I hope—I really hope—that when all of this is over, we’ll be able to get back to where we were with our friendship. That the Tess I am with her is stronger than the Tess I’ve reverted to being since I came back here.

“Where have you been, then?” Jack calls after me as I head into the house. He’s standing outside, smoking a cigarette. “At the police station the whole time?”

“I went to meet a friend,” I say, moving past him.

“So what did the police want to talk to you about?”

I blink. “Nothing much. Just general questions—did I know Greg, that sort of thing.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I barely knew him.”

He’s looking down at the ground, scuffing the dirt. “I still can’t believe it’s him. I thought…I never thought he was dead. Not really. I always assumed he’d come swanning back into our lives one day.”

I want to keep walking. I don’t want to feel sorry for Jack. All the thoughts and fears I’ve been having…feeling sorry for him doesn’t fit. I need him to be the villain. I need to be angry with him. But…

“I’m sorry,” I say in a low voice, and he glances up, a frown on his face.

“You’re sorry for me? Don’t be. It’s not like I’m mourning someone who’s been present in my life, is it? Neither of my parents have and I’m all grown up now.” He pauses. “She’s not likely to die today, then? My darling mother? Not if you’re okay going out and leaving her.”

“Do you even care? I don’t get why you’re still here—you clearly have no intention of spending any real time with her. Every time she gets up, you leave the house.”

“Well, today’s the day, I think. Liquid courage,” he says, brandishing the pack of cigarettes. “Time to find out what dear old Mama knows about my dead father.”

“Don’t you dare upset her.” I say it fiercely, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “The last thing she needs is you barging in shouting at her.”

“Why do you assume I’m going to march in there shouting?”

I realize his mocking grin is missing. He sounds flat, almost subdued.

“When have you ever given me reason to assume you’re not going to storm in and stir things up, upsetting everyone?”