He turned to look at me, saw the crumpled piece of paper in my hand, and looked confused. He glanced up at the front of the room where people were shuffling into their seats before shaking his head.

“Not now,” he said.

Before I could argue, he’d turned round and was following the other mourners again. For the briefest of moments, as the organ started belching out its somber tones, I thought I might be sick. Being back in that place was horrible enough anyway but now this. I shoved the paper back in my pocket then felt myself stumble slightly as we edged forwards. Before I could get myself into any real trouble though, Rob’s hand was on my arm.

“You okay?” He leaned in, whispering in my ear.

I nodded, not wanting to risk words. I couldn’t be sure how my voice would come out and the last thing I wanted was brave and strong policeman Rob thinking I was having a breakdown. I was meant to be there to support him, it was the only reason I’d even agreed to come. I tried not to think about the last time I’d been there. Dad’s funeral. I shivered. There was something about the place. Every tiny insignificant detail I thought I’d erased from my memory came flooding back. The smell. The way the light came through the huge window at the front. The look on the vicar’s face as he stood there, watching everyone come in. The sound the rails made after the curtains closed. My sister had sworn she could hear the sound of the furnace but I refused to think about it, she always did have an overactive imagination. I shoved the scrap of paper back into my pocket and sat down. As I did so, I caught the vicar’s eye and felt my face flush with shame. Passing notes probably wasn’t the done thing in a place like this and he’d caught me red handed.

Half an hour later and it was all over. I stood next to Rob as we dutifully filed past the grieving widow.

“I’m sorry for you loss,” I heard him say.

I just nodded and moved along behind him. I didn’t feel compelled to say anything and let the man behind me speak to her instead.

It wasn’t until we were walking back to Rob’s car that I spoke. “You okay?”

The man had been Rob’s tutor-constable when he’d first joined the police. He hadn’t seen him for a few years but I knew they’d kept in touch at Christmas with the obligatory cards and promises to catch up soon for a pint. They never seemed to quite manage to make it to the pub though and now of course it was too late.

Rob nodded. “Thanks for coming Charlie. I know it’s not easy for you.”

I smiled. “What are friends for?”

I wanted to take back the words almost as soon as I’d said them. As much as I tried to keep my tone light, I knew we were definitely more than just friends. The problem was, our relationship was still new, we hadn’t exactly defined it yet, so I automatically found myself slipping into friends mode, especially when faced with stressful situations.

Thankfully, Rob knew what I was like, the emotional baggage I still carried as a result of my fidelity-challenged ex-husband. “Friends with benefits maybe?” His eyes twinkled. “You got time for lunch or do you need to get home?”

“You don’t want to go to the thing?” I gestured in the direction of the funeral party. “We can if you want to, it’s no problem.”

I had no desire to spend the next couple of hours exchanging small talk with people I didn’t know and would likely never see again but I felt like it was only right to at least show willing.

“I think I’ll give it a miss. Some of the lads are going but I’ve done my bit.”

“In that case, I think lunch sounds lovely, thanks!”

He drove us over the bridge and soon pulled into the carpark of a little pub I’d never been to before. I followed him along a dark corridor until we were back outside in the sunshine in the beer garden.

“Pick a table, I’ll grab us drinks and menus.”

By the time Rob came back, menus tucked under his arm, I’d taken the piece of paper from earlier back out of my pocket and was peering at it intently.

Rob sighed. “Come on then, let’s get it over with.”

I gave him a puzzled look.

He pointed to the paper. “What’s all this about?”

“I was hoping you might be able to tell me.” I’d not yet convinced myself that this was nothing more than one of his elaborate wind up routines, although if it was, it was in very poor taste.

“Me? What did I do?” He took the paper from me and read it. “Where’s Loches?”

“France.” I’d had a chance to Google it while he’d been getting the drinks.

“Thought it sounded Scottish.” He shrugged. “And whose address is this?”

“Dunno.”

“Why are you getting your knickers in such a twist then?” He smiled at me, apparently keen to try and brighten my mood but it was going to take more than Rob’s charm to win me over.

“You don’t recognise the handwriting do you?”

He shook his head. “Should I?”

Of course he wouldn’t recognise it. It belonged to a man he’d never even met, but I was playing for time.

“It’s my dad’s.”

I watched as his mouth dropped towards his chest. He might have never met my dad but he knew enough about him to understand that this was a big deal.

“You sure?” He hesitated, trying to find the right words. “But your dad’s …”

“Dead. Yeah I know. So how did this piece of paper with his handwriting get into my coat pocket?”

Rob looked uncomfortable. “No idea.” He fidgeted for a moment before speaking again. “There’s probably loads of people with writing the same. What makes you so sure this was him?”

I pointed at a squiggle under one of the letters. “See this little flick here? He always did that. Every time.”

Rob squinted at the paper. “Looks like a three to me.”

“Exactly! It was just a little quirk of his. Said he did it to make himself stand out from everybody else.”

Rob shrugged. “I guess he must have written it then.”

“I knew it!” I felt like kissing him or leaping up and down punching the air. I managed to restrain myself though and instead simply smiled. “Which leads to my initial question. How did it get in my pocket?”

Rob smiled. “Any theories?”

I shook my head. “I was a bit shocked to see it. Not got as far as figuring out details yet.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed and he put his hand on my forehead. “That’s not like you. You feeling okay?”

I swiped his hand away. “Ha bloody ha! Obviously someone must have put it there. Someone other than my dad I mean.”

“How can you be so sure? Maybe your dad put it there, years ago obviously, and it’s been there the whole time, just waiting for you to find it?”

I shook my head and felt tears prick my eyes. “Dad never saw this coat.” I could hear the wobble in my voice. “I bought it for his funeral.”

“I’m sorry Charlie.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand and smiled brightly. “Anyway, didn’t you say something about lunch? I’m starving.”

I could tell from the look of concern on Rob’s face that he wasn’t buying it. I knew he’d want to ask me questions, get me to talk about it. After nearly a decade, it should have been easier by now but seeing his handwriting there on the page just brought the whole thing come crashing back to reality. I didn’t want to talk about it, and certainly not in the middle of a pub beer garden. 

“You’ll have to face it at some point Charlie, sooner or later. You know that don’t you?” Rob’s voice was gentle.

“I know. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to make it later. Let’s just enjoy a nice lunch, you can tell me stories about your tutor constable, and we’ll deal with the rest of it another day. Alright?”

I looked Rob squarely in the eyes, daring him to refuse, but he didn’t. Not for the first time, I found myself thankful for his need to please attitude. It certainly made life simpler.

He nodded and picked up a menu. “What do you fancy?”

And we spent the next couple of hours relaxing in the warm afternoon sunshine. To look at the two of us, you’d think we didn’t have a care in the world. It was about halfway down the second glass of wine that I decided what I needed to do next. There was only one person I could talk to about my father and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I’d have to go fully prepared. I drained my glass and asked Rob to take me home.

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I closed the front door with a slam, calling out to Louise and Grace, my seventeen year old twin girls, as I went. With their exams over, they’d finished school and with it, all semblance of routine. When I’d left that morning they’d both been fast asleep. A naughty part of me had been tempted to pull out the hoover and start cleaning loudly. Maybe whistling a tuneless little ditty, summoning them both from their beds, but I hated housework, even if it meant a joke at their expense, so instead I’d enjoyed a quiet few minutes on my own, mentally preparing myself for the funeral later that day.

“Hello? You lazy rotters still in bed?”

I shouted up the stairs, expecting to hear footsteps or at least something to acknowledge my presence but the house remained silent. It was only then that I realised Missy wasn’t running around my feet like a lunatic. I walked into the kitchen and was greeted by a scene reminiscent of a disaster film. Untidy teenagers leaving a mess in the kitchen was such a cliche but it seemed that with the summer upon us even Louise, usually the good one, had lost all ability to tidy up after herself.

They had at least had the good grace to leave a note telling me they’d gone for a walk with the dog. I wasn’t sure what Missy had done to deserve the undivided attention of my daughters but instead of questioning it, I put the kettle on and made a grab for my laptop. If I was going to talk to my mother about Dad I had to first get some of the facts straight. Like, where exactly Loches was for starters. I couldn’t ever remember taking a family holiday to France, the Isle of Wight was about as far as my parents could afford when I was little, and I was sure Mum had never mentioned it, but something had led my father to write this address and I wanted to know what.

With the coffee made, I typed the address into Google maps and was rewarded with the frustrating invitation to add a missing place to the map. If there had been a Norwest House in Loches, it had either changed its name or been knocked down. Even when I tried a few different variations, allowing for my father’s untidy handwriting, I still drew a blank. The only entry even vaguely related to Norwest House was a property company in Australia. Their houses looked fancy, really beautiful, but my parents hated flying. I couldn’t entertain the idea of them going all the way to Australia. That couldn’t be it. Bugger! 

I shut the lid of my laptop in frustration. My mother was a tricky character at the best of times. I’d wanted to go to her with knowledge about the local area and instead I had nothing. Unless of course she wanted directions from Loches train station into the centre of town, but I suspected that that wouldn’t be terribly persuasive. I knew I could be stubborn, it was what made me a brilliant investigator, but I had nothing on my mother. If she didn’t want to help, it wouldn’t matter what I said, she’d give nothing away. And this was never more true than when it came to my father.

After his death, Mum had refused all conversation about Dad. Where other families would celebrate the passing of time by telling stories, sharing memories, my mum acted as if he’d never even existed. All conversations were closed down and she wasn’t above feigning illness to avoid difficult conversations. But this address felt important.

Part of me knew I was being a little irrational. It shouldn’t matter. Who really cares about an address in some far off region of France that my Mum and Dad may or may not have visited, once upon a time? But I knew that was Dad’s handwriting, I was certain of it, and for that scrap of paper to find its way to the very coat I wore for his funeral? That was too much of a coincidence. Rob would suggest I should instead focus on one of the many cases waiting for me in my inbox, take a paid job and stop fixating on a case that could have no happy conclusion, it wasn’t like I could bring my father back from the dead, but that address had captured my imagination and I couldn’t just ignore it.

No, no matter how difficult it was for her, I couldn’t let Mum get away with fobbing me off this time. Feeling determined, I drained my coffee cup, scribbled a note to the girls underneath theirs and phoned Rob. He made a bit of a fuss about picking me up again, he’d only just got home he said, but after reminding him that it was his fault I couldn’t drive thanks to all the wine he’d plied me with at lunch, he gave in. Aside from playing taxi, I was glad Rob was coming too. This was my investigation but my mum liked Rob. I knew if he came with me she’d be much more likely to show off about what she knew and maybe let something important slip in the process. On my own I’d be faced with stoney silence.

With a quick glance back at the mess in the kitchen, I added a reminder to the girls to clean up. I was glad they were getting along and it was nice not to be the one walking the dog for once but they needed to learn quickly that I had no intention of spending the whole summer cleaning up after them.

Nagging over with, I went outside to wait for Rob, my tummy dancing with nerves. I crossed my fingers and hoped that this might prove to be the one time my mother chose not to be a difficult cow. Ha! I won’t hold my breath!

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I walked down our little path and almost tripped over a pair of legs poking out from the overgrown hedge near our gate.

“What the …”

I did a classic double take when I realised the shoes on the feet at the end of the legs belonged to Grace, my Grace. I peered closer and realised she wasn't alone but before I could react, Grace saw me and leapt up. 

“Mum! What are you doing here?” She was scowling but her cheeks were flushed with colour.

“I might ask you the same thing young lady! I thought you were walking the dog? And since when did you entertain guests in our garden?”

“Guests? It's only Mark.” Grace shrugged. 

I glanced at Mark and saw that his face was even redder than Grace’s. “Hello Mrs Diamond. Sorry, we were just …”

“It's Ms Diamond and I'm sure I don't want to know what you were ‘just’ doing with my daughter!”

As angry as I was, I knew it would be better directed at Grace. Mark might be older but it had been obvious from the very beginning who was in charge in their relationship. If there were any balls to be busted I knew they'd need to be metaphorical ones. Grace needed to learn she couldn't behave this way before she got both of them in trouble. 

But Grace wasn't having any of it. “Give it a rest Mum. We were only talking. Wanted some privacy. Besides, you won’t have to worry about it soon enough.”

I felt a jolt of something land in my tummy. “What's that supposed to mean?”

I saw Grace look at Mark who smiled and gave her a nod of encouragement. “Mark’s asked me to move in with him. And I’ve said yes!”

My head began to throb. I saw her hands flicker towards her front. It was the slightest of gestures but I knew that look. She couldn't be, could she?

I sighed. I wanted to speak to my mother but I knew I had to sort this mess out first. “Let’s talk about this inside.”

Without waiting for a reply, I turned and walked back towards the house. As I did so I heard a car pull up. A quick glance back confirmed it was Rob. I didn't wait for him. I knew Grace would fill him in and he'd soon invite himself inside too. 

By the time Rob, Grace and Mark walked in, I’d found a bottle of wine and poured myself a large glass. I took a swig of it before turning to greet Rob. 

“Heard the news? I'm going to be a granny.” I winced as I heard myself say granny. I couldn't understand how she could have been so careless. I knew what Jonathan, my feckless ex-husband, would say when he found out. It would be all my fault for not parenting her properly, totally glossing over his own large periods of absenteeism. 

“A granny? Since when?” Grace sounded shocked. “Louise isn’t …”

“Louise? I’m talking about you, you big idiot.”

“But I’m not … Is that what you thought.” She looked at Mark and pulled a face. “Ewww!” She put her hand on his. “No offence.”

“None taken.” He smiled. “If it’s all the same to you Mrs Diamond, I really need to be getting home. Mam’ll have my tea on.”

I dismissed him with a wave of my hand, not bothering to remind him it was Ms. When he’d gone I turned my attention back to Grace. “What’s going on?”

Before Grace could speak, Rob coughed, reminding me he was there.

“Sorry Rob, are you okay to hang on a bit?” I gave him what I hoped was my most winning smile. I still needed to go and see my mother but didn’t want to leave Grace yet.

Grace however had other ideas. “Talk to you later Mum. You and Rob go and do whatever it is you had planned.”

“But …”

“Honest Mum, it’s fine. You’re off the hook. I’m not pregnant. You’re not a terrible parent.” She turned to Rob. “Would you do me a favour and take my mum for a drink. I think she’s going to need it. Maybe a bite to eat too? It’s two for a tenner in The Bont.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” Rob offered me his hand. “Coming?”

Before I could remind them both that we’d already eaten, Rob had grabbed my hand and led me back outside and along the path towards the main road. It wasn’t like him to be quite so forthright and for a moment I found myself lost for words. All thoughts of confronting my mother were pushed from my mind. I wanted to say something about needing to stay and find out what Grace was thinking. I wanted to argue that I didn’t have the luxury of galavanting off at the drop of a hat, that I had to think of my children, but I knew what both he and Grace would say. They weren’t children anymore. In less than six weeks time, Grace and Louise would be celebrating their eighteenth birthdays and it was time for them to start making their own mistakes.

“But what about uni?” I said quietly, as we were walking towards the village pub.

Rob smiled. “I hate to break it to you but I think you’re a bit old for that Charlie.”

I punched his arm. “Not me. Grace.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “She’ll figure it out.”

“But …”

“Just leave it Charlie, at least for today. Talk to her in the morning when you’ve both had a good sleep. She might surprise you.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“I think it’s called knowing how to pick your battles. You don’t have to win every time. Besides, she’s a good kid.”

I wanted to believe him, to trust that after all these years he knew my daughters better than their own father, but he wasn’t the one who’d have to deal with the fall out when it all went wrong. I had a nasty feeling it was all going to get a lot worse before it got better and I hated to think what that might do to my strong-willed, sensitive daughter.

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I woke the following morning with a bit of a thick head. Not surprising given the amount of wine I’d had, I decided, although after the shock of Grace’s news, I felt justified. As I lay in bed, I listened for the sound of noise coming from downstairs. I couldn’t remember getting home and so couldn’t be certain whether Grace and Louise had both made it home last night. I was about to get up to go and investigate when my bedroom door opened and in walked Rob carrying a tray of coffee and toast.

“Morning sleepy head. Thought you might need this.”

I sat up and he put the tray in front of me then parked himself at the end of my bed. I hadn’t been certain Rob had made it back last night either but one look at his hair told me all I needed to know. He leaned over to give me a kiss and I was greeted with a bad case of morning breath.

“You ought to think about leaving a toothbrush here, just in case,” I said.

He smiled and pretended to swoon. “Oh Charlie you old romantic, you say the sweetest things.”

“Just thought it would be better than your stinky breath!”

“Charming.” He pointed to the toast. “Eat. We’ve got work to do.”

“We have?” In all the excitement of yesterday I’d forgotten why I’d asked Rob to come over. “Oh, of course. My mother.”

“You said last night you needed me to drive you but you’re probably fine now.” 

“Would you come anyway? She likes you more than me.”

“I doubt that very much. But okay, if you think it’ll help. Maybe Grace could come too?”

I couldn’t decide who I felt more sorry for: my mother at the prospect of having to deal with Grace’s potential bad mood or my offspring having to deal with my mother.

I shuddered. “Best not. Until we get this whole Mark thing sorted out, I’d prefer my mother know as little as possible.”

My relationship with my mother had always been a bit turbulent, too much alike my dad had always said, but since his death things had only gotten worse. I went to see her as infrequently as I could get away with and, in-between visits, was forced to deal with her via increasingly irate messages on my answering machine. The final nail in the coffin came with the breakdown in my marriage to Jonathan. Having had no sons of her own, my mum adored Jonathan, he could do no wrong in her eyes. She saw the none too small matter of his repeated infidelity as my fault for not having been a more attentive wife. She saw it as her duty to Jonathan to keep an eye on my daughters, despite the man himself being completely absent from their lives, having forgotten more of their birthdays than he’d remembered.

“What you thinking about?” Rob’s voice was gentle.

“Ah, just the usual. My mother. The kids. Same old, same old.”

He reached across the bed and brushed my hand with his huge thumb. “Come on, it’ll be okay. Besides, you’ll have me with you. What’s the worst that can happen?”

An hour later we found ourselves standing outside my mother’s house, willing her to hurry up and open the door. I hadn’t bothered telling her we were coming, she never went anywhere, but now I was forced to concede that this clearly wasn’t the case. Where was she?

“Want to try ringing her?” Rob suggested.

“Doesn’t seem much point. The phone’s in her house and she’s not in it.”

“Just thought maybe she hadn’t heard the door.”

My mother’s hearing was impeccable, except when asked a question she didn’t want to answer of course. I shook my head. “Nope, she’s not in.”

I felt a wave of disappointment. As much as I’d been dreading seeing her and asking her about France, having talked myself into it, I wanted to get it over with. This was just like my mother, always ruining everything. She spent half her life complaining that she didn’t see me enough and then, when I called round, she didn’t even have the decency to be home. Bloody typical!

Rob knew better than to argue with me when I was in this frame of mind. Instead, he followed me back to his car.

“Now what?” He asked.

I shrugged. “I suppose we could wait for a bit. She can’t be far.”

“How about we walk into town and get a coffee? We could leave the car here and try again when we get back?”

I smiled at Rob. “Sounds good, thanks Rob.” I knew I was hard work, that I could be a bit volatile, but I was at least aware of my faults and could appreciate Rob for his efforts with me.

As we walked, we chatted about everything except the one topic of conversation I knew we actually needed to address. It wasn’t until we were sat at a little corner table with drinks in front of us that Rob asked the question I’d been dreading.

“What do you think about Grace and Mark?”

I could feel myself pouting as I struggled to articulate what I was actually thinking. “She’s almost an adult so it doesn’t really matter what I think.”

“But?” Rob was smiling.

“But she’s worked too hard at school to throw it all away. Her place at uni is as good as guaranteed. There’s plenty of time for getting loved up after she’s got her qualifications.”

“And have you told her?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to come across all heavy handed. She has to reach that conclusion on her own.”

“You don’t think a little gentle encouragement in the right direction might help?”

I didn’t say anything. I could feel myself getting wound up. What did Rob know about it? He didn’t even have kids.

“Charlie, if you don’t say anything, she might think you don’t care.” Rob spoke carefully. It was almost as if he knew I might explode at any second.

“Of course I care!”

He reached across and took my hand. “I know you do. I just think you need to find a way to talk to Grace about this. She’s still just a kid. She’d probably appreciate an adult perspective.”

“If you’re such the expert, maybe you should talk to her then!” I pushed the chair back with a scrape and stormed out of the cafe, leaving a stunned looking Rob sitting alone.

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I could hear Rob calling my name as I stormed up the road in the direction of my mum’s house but it wasn’t until my mobile started ringing in my bag that I stopped and allowed him to catch up.

“What was the …” 

I waved at him to be quiet as I pressed a button to take the call. “My mother,” I mouthed at him. He nodded.

“Hi Mum, how are you?”

“Charlotte? Oh! How did you know it was me?”

I sighed. We’d been through this before, more than once. “You called me on my mobile Mum. I have your number saved.”

“Well that’s very clever.” She paused, seeming to give this due consideration, before turning her attention to the real reason for her call. “I wonder, Charlotte, if you might know why that policeman friend of yours has parked his car outside my house?”

I rolled my eyes. Policeman friend? Honestly! I couldn’t really blame her of course, he and I hadn’t given a name for whatever it was that was going on between us so how did I expect her to be able to name it?

“You mean Rob? He’s with me.”

“And you are?”

“In the cafe in town. You weren’t in so we thought we’d wait. Where were you?”

It was her turn to sigh. “I’d popped to the shops, if you must know. Do you really expect me to sit around here waiting for you to visit?”

“Of course not Mum.” I tried to keep my tone conciliatory. “You’re home now though, right?”

“I am. Shall I put the kettle on?”

“That would be great!”

Call over, I turned my attention back to Rob. I didn’t have the patience to deal with him right now but I didn’t want to go and face my mother on my own. I knew I should do my best to be nice. It was a struggle.

“She’s home. You’re still coming?” Despite my best intentions, I knew I sounded huffy but it was the best I could do.

Rob smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He took my hand and swung it back and forth as we walked. If he started whistling tunelessly I decided I would smack him!

I groaned but then smiled in spite of myself. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re bloody annoying when you’re chirpy?”

“All the time. But I didn’t get where I am today by bowing to peer pressure.”

We walked hand in hand back towards my mother’s house, all thoughts of my earlier outburst forgotten. The sun was shining and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees. If I were one for grand declarations I’d have said it was the perfect moment to be alive, almost romantic, but I wasn’t one for such cliches. Life had made me a cynic and instead of enjoying my time with Rob, I was focused on dreading the upcoming conversation with my mother.

If only Dad was here, I thought, not for the first time. Whatever reasonable explanation there was for the address in my pocket, he’d have been able to deliver it with a charm that always alluded my mother. It was like they were two halves of one whole and he had the delightful, warm half. It felt that all the love and connection died with him and all we were left with was my mother at her most bitter. Without my dad’s sugar, there was no-one left to bring out Mum’s good qualities.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said Rob. “You looked miles away.”

“I wish you could have known him. Dad. He was so much nicer than her. Don’t know what he saw in her if I’m honest.”

Rob winced. “That’s a bit harsh. She’s alright really you know.”

“Ha! You haven’t had to deal with her for the last four decades!”

“It can’t have been easy for her though. Losing your dad like that. A widow so young. Even the best of us would have struggled.”

“Maybe. But she’s always been horrible. Not like Dad, he was just so generous, not a mean bone in his body.”

“Bit of a daddy’s girl weren’t you?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t about to apologise for my relationship with my dad. He’d been my hero, my rock, the one who could do no wrong in my eyes, and that picture of him had only intensified since his early departure from the planet. Mum, by contrast, had always played the role of bad cop. When either of us kids needed telling off, it had always been left to my mum. None of this ‘just wait ’til you father gets home’ nonsense from her. No way, she ruled with an iron rod. If there was any fun to be had from a situation, you could bet your life she’d do her best to squash it.

Rob stopped walking and forced me to a halt alongside him. “Just go easy on her, okay?”

I smiled. “Of course, you know me, I’m the picture of ease.”

“Yeah right!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I pretended to be outraged. I knew exactly what Rob was getting at but wasn’t about to make it easy.

“You don’t need me to tell you how to conduct your relationship with your mother any more than you need me to tell you how to get along with your headstrong daughter. Just remember you need her on side, if you’re to find out what you want to know. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go gently, just this once?”

“Maybe.”

I wasn’t about to make any promises. If she was in one of her moods there was no telling how the conversation might turn out. I may be feisty but I hadn’t inherited that from my dad and if Rob thought I was about to go in there and play the contrite daughter, he didn’t know me at all.

Before he could reply, we found ourselves back at my mother’s front door. I rang the bell and crossed my fingers that this wouldn’t all end in tears.

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If, as a result of her call, I’d expected my mum to be waiting for us at the door, I was a naive idiot. Instead she left us standing there, our knock on the door unanswered. After waiting the appropriate amount of time, I knocked again and this time, finally, she opened the door just a little and peered through the crack. After confirming it was us she …

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Mum and I sipped our tea in silence, each refusing to be the first to engage the other in conversation, so it was left to poor Rob to fill in the gaps. He did a sterling job of wittering on about the weather and his latest case in work but I found myself forcing the still too hot tea down my throat as quickly as possible so we could make our excuses and…

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I woke the following morning to what sounded like a herd of baby elephants dancing. I glanced at the clock and groaned. It was only a little after 8am. The crazy nonsense couldn’t be starting again already, could it? After assuring Grace the night before that I would absolutely help her solve all her boy troubles in the morning, I’d gone to bed and slep…

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It wasn’t until two days later, with the promise of another weekend looming upon us, that I realised I hadn’t seen or heard a thing from Mark. I hadn’t planned on hanging around eavesdropping when Grace let the poor boy down, gently I hoped, I knew how Grace could be, but given how stressful Grace had said the whole situation was, I’d expected an update…

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When Rob rang inviting me out for dinner that evening, the answer was easy, and not just because I would never say no to free food. No matter what dramas the girls might have going on, I knew they could spare me for a couple of hours. For the sake of my sanity, it was an easy yes. He promised we’d go somewhere nice but not too fancy which meant I was sa…

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I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told Rob I had a radiator to fix and so it was, the following morning, I found myself driving out of the village towards town, but not before forcing a promise out of Grace. She had no choice about it, she had to speak to Mark. Waiting around for him to guess that she was dumping him was driving me crazy. I knew it was com…

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Three days later there was a cheery knock on the front door. Before I could stop her, Grace had raced to answer it and all I could do was stand and listen as she flirted relentlessly with the poor unsuspecting student standing on our front door step. I decided to put the poor lad out of his misery, stepped past Grace and invited him in.

He offered me his…

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I made myself a cup of coffee, giving Louise time to work her magic and calm Grace down a little, and then followed the two of them upstairs. I tapped gently on Grace’s door but didn't wait for a reply before pushing the door open and popping my head round the side. The girls were sitting together on Grace’s bed.

“Can I come in? I’ve got chocolate.” I wa…

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As well as needing to speak to Mark and find Norwest House, there was the none too small matter of a birthday party to finalise. I could hardly believe my little girls were about to become fully fledged grown-ups. The thought of Grace being in charge of her own life was mildly terrifying and even Louise was acting like she’d prefer another few years of …

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Three days later, the swelling on my mouth had finally gone down. It wasn’t a moment too soon. There was no way I’d miss the girl’s birthday party but I knew that if I’d arrived looking like I’d gone six rounds in the ring, my mother would never let me hear the end of it. As it was, Grace did a superb job of covering the last of my bruises with some of …

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The stench from the rug was almost more than I could bear. I covered my nose with my hand and stepped over the mess to prod Mark on the arm. He didn’t stir.

“Is he breathing?” Grace asked.

I nodded. “Out cold.”

“Stupid tosser! Leave him there. His dad can come and fetch him in the morning.” Without waiting for me to reply, Grace had turned and was headed t…

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“I’ve booked us a ferry.”

“You’ve what?” It was the morning after the night before and Rob, rubbing water out of his ears as he wandered into my bedroom after having a shower, clearly thought he was hearing things.

“A ferry. For tonight. I’ve booked it. You coming?”

Rob sat on the edge of my bed to pull his jeans on. “Sorry Charlie, you’ve lost me.”

I sighe…

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“You know when you told me to forget about Mark? This wasn't what I thought you meant.” Grace said. “This is kind of crazy.”

I smiled and took another bite of croissant. There was only one sure fire way to get rid of sea sickness, eating warm buttery pastries. I looked at Rob, hoping he'd fill in the blanks for me. 

“What your mother wants to say is, than…

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By the time I arrived back at the gîte two hours later, I had fourteen missed calls and eleven text messages. All of them wanted to know where I was and when I was coming back. I felt a slight pang of guilt, it probably wasn’t great parenting to leave the girls with Rob, hundreds of miles away from home in a country whose language they barely spoke, but…

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I awoke the following morning to the sound of a church bell, somewhere far off in the distance, presumably calling the locals to prayers. From the small area we’d driven through the previous day, I was amazed to think the village we were staying in would have its own church but if the statues of Christ on the cross scattered around the country lanes wer…

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