‘Hell,’ Laurel muttered sympathetically. The part about invasive processes was true, though. She’d spent way too much time on the gynaecologist’s examination table. She hesitated. ‘But Pippa was apologising when I blundered in. Maybe …?’

He snorted. ‘There aren’t enough apologies in the world to change the situation between us.’ He cocked his head as he regarded her. ‘Do you still …’ He stopped, then started again, his voice gruff. ‘Once I knew I couldn’t have kids, I accepted it. It was hard but I don’t go round peeping into prams and yearning.’

She paused. He was obviously asking-without-asking something important to him and she didn’t want to rush her answer. ‘I suppose, I’m the same – now. It took me three years of infertility to accept the truth but eventually I did.’ Carefully, she added, ‘I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to deal with the disappointment. I feel entitled to grieve but I also feel entitled to get on with my life. Just being Laurel and just being Grady is enough, you know. We don’t have to ensure the continuance of the human race to be considered valid.’ She sighed and loosened her shoulders, giving him a moment in case he wished to continue the conversation. When he showed no sign of doing so, she moved on to what she hoped would be an easier subject. Cradling her take-out cup and enjoying coffee-fragranced steam warming her face, she continued. ‘I actually came to ask you something. Rea’s worried about Daisy. I am, too.’ She managed a painful smile. ‘Daisy’s like a clam about what’s going on at school. Without betraying confidences, do you have any ideas?’

He shook his head. ‘I know she’s in trouble for skipping lessons. She told me that, not Mac,’ he added hastily, obviously protecting his brother though, as an aunt rather than a parent, Laurel had no idea how much discretion Daisy’s head of year owed her.

‘Rea says she seems OK joining in with the village arty stuff.’ Laurel frowned, trying to think herself into Daisy’s head. ‘Yet it seems to be art she’s avoiding at school this year, and last year it was English. The obvious conclusion is that someone in those two classes must be upsetting her. But, if so, why won’t she tell anyone? What does she think will happen if she confides?’ She sipped her cappuccino while it was still hot. She felt as chilly in Grady’s spray shop as she had outdoors.