‘Oh, I wasn’t inferring that I was going to croak it tomorrow.’ Sunday grinned. ‘But I would like to see any grandchildren you might present me with before I do.’

Deeply annoyed, Livvy tossed her head. She hated it when her mother spoke like that and couldn’t bear to think of a time when she might not be around. She knew only too well that her mother had never been quite the same since the death of her father but that was emotional rather than physical and Livvy hoped that time would be a great healer.

‘I’m not even prepared to talk about it anymore,’ Livvy said sullenly and rising from the stool she flounced out of the room, saying over her shoulder, ‘Don’t bother waiting up for me. I shall probably be in late.’

Sunday listened to Livvy clumping down the stairs followed by the sound of the front door slamming before crossing to the window. She was just in time to see a car, driven by a very striking-looking young man, pull up outside just as Livvy appeared and hopped in beside him. She watched as the car roared down the drive before turning and making her way downstairs. Kathy was working a late shift at the hospital and it looked like another lonely evening lay ahead of her.

She was surprised to find Ben drinking tea and smoking at the kitchen table. Since his father had died, he had taken to spending most of his time in his bedroom when he wasn’t working either in the stables or in the gardens and when she entered the room he instantly stood up, stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray and turned towards the back door.

‘Don’t go, Ben.’ Her voice stayed him, and he turned slowly to scowl at her.

‘Did you want something?’

‘No … but it isn’t often we get a minute alone nowadays.’ She smiled at him. ‘I thought we could have a chat while I join you for a cup of tea. Is there any left in the pot?’

He grudgingly sat back down as he nodded and when she had poured herself a cup, she joined him at the table.

He seemed reluctant to even look at her so after a moment she asked softly, ‘Is something bothering you, Ben?’

‘No! Should it be?’

Sunday sighed. She knew he was still grieving for his father, but didn’t he realise she was grieving for Tom too? If only he would talk to her they could comfort each other. The atmosphere between them was so thick she could have cut it with a knife, but she didn’t know how to change it.

‘If there was anything worrying you, you know I’m always here for you,’ she said tentatively, but once again he rose from his seat and, this time, he had no intention of sitting back down.