his head, bemused, she guessed, by her refusal to accept his offer to organise a financial settlement.
She walked with him towards the front door.
‘I hope you manage to sort everything out to your satisfaction.’ He handed a business card to her. ‘I live next door and if you need any assistance, please call me.’
‘Thank you. I didn’t realise there were any other houses nearby. Hyland Hall seems so isolated.’
‘It’s further along Marsh Road and built on land that once belonged to Hyland Estate. My uncle was considering moving in with me when the fire broke out. Sadly, that changed everything. Goodnight, Sophia.’
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had used her full name. The syllables swayed towards her, his soft emphasis on the ‘a’. The headlights of his jeep swept across the courtyard as she watched him drive towards the tree-lined avenue.
In the bedroom, she loosened her hair and allowed it to fall to her shoulders. She stared at her soot-streaked face in the mirror. What must he have thought of her? Not that it mattered. She was hardly likely to see him again. Word of mouth, she had replied when he asked her how she had heard about his uncle’s situation. Why hadn’t she told him about Vivian Ford? Her ship in the night who had left no forwarding address or contact number. All she knew was that Vivian had offered her a light in her darkness and Sophy was determined to keep it burning.
Shortly after Luke’s departure to the Oasis of Hope, Vivian had called to Park View Villas. Unaware that she was about to shape a new future for herself and her daughters, Sophy opened the door to an elderly woman, who smiled apologetically and gestured towards the For Sale sign in the front garden.
‘I appreciate that viewing your house is by appointment only,’ she said. ‘But I’m hoping you can make an exception in my case and show me around now. I’m going abroad for two weeks and no doubt your lovely house will be sold by the time I return.’
Sophy’s first inclination had been to refuse her request. Breakfast dishes were still on the kitchen table and every bed in the house was unmade.
‘The house is not ready for viewings,’ she began. ‘I haven’t had time to tidy—’
‘My dear, you don’t have to worry about that.’ The woman stared back at her through an over-large pair of red-framed glasses and waved aside Sophy’s excuses. ‘Tidiness is an overrated virtue, I always think. My name is Vivian Ford – and I know exactly what I want to buy. Your house looks ideal.’ Her thick, grey hair was cut short in a no-nonsense style and the authority in her voice suggested she was used to being obeyed.
They entered the living room, which, for once, was tidy. Vivian walked to the French windows and stared out to the back garden where a bronze sculpture of two children dancing together, hands joined, was visible. ‘What a beautiful piece,’ she said as she opened the doors and stepped outside. ‘May I ask the name of the sculptor?’
‘My husband,’ Sophy replied. ‘He specialises in garden sculptures, mainly fountains. Occasionally, he makes standalone pieces like that one.’
‘A gifted man. Do you mind if I take a photograph?’
Unable to stop her, Sophy waited while she photographed the figures.
‘He loved those children.’ Her keen glance at Sophy was somewhat unnerving. ‘Do you mind if I ask who they are?’
‘My daughters.’ She walked back into the living room and waited for Vivian to join her. ‘I’ll show you the rest of the house.’
Entering Isobel’s bedroom, she closed her eyes at the sight of the scattered clothes on the floor, the books, nail polishes and empty hairspray can making it almost impossible to walk across the carpet.
‘I remember that phase so well,’ Vivian laughed as she surveyed the disarray. ‘I’d one daughter whose room was in a permanent state of chaos yet you could eat your dinner from the floor of my other daughter’s bedroom.’
‘It’s much the same here.’ Sophy ushered her into Julie’s bedroom. ‘Julie likes everything to be tidy and organised.’
‘My goodness, who’s this?’ Vivian stared at the mannequin on the bed.
‘That’s Cordelia.’ Sophy smiled at her astonished expression. ‘I used to own a boutique and she was my display model.’
‘She looks so real. I thought for a moment she was breathing.’
‘It’s a common mistake. Children often pinched her to see if she’d react.’
Sophy lifted the duvet and covered the mannequin. Cordelia’s garish, red