did it.
‘Your soft soap won’t wash. It never did with me. The little ’uns need you, Joseph.’ Snap went the towel. ‘Just like they did last time. Pass me that stuff from the dryer.’ She didn’t bother with ‘please’.
‘Sure.’ He pulled out a bunch of clothes and began to make piles; an activity he found quite soothing. Halfway through, he realised he had no idea what garment belonged to whom, other than the pink pants and socks that must be Molly’s.
‘Maybe I could take Molly down to London with me,’ he mused.
‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’
‘I’m not. She could come and stay with me at Philippa’s. Ben won’t want to come now he’s got Emma.’ Ben had recently started seeing his first serious girlfriend, and he was awash with hormones and young love. ‘And Matty—’
‘Exactly. What about Matty?’ Anne folded the final towel and placed it on her immaculate pile. Then she grabbed Molly’s underwear from him, as if it was somehow inappropriate for him to hold it. ‘You can’t just leave him here. He’d be so upset.’
‘I thought I was doing quite well there,’ Silver observed mildly, but he let her finish the job. ‘Well, I could take him too.’ But he knew in reality this was impractical. He sighed. ‘OK, you win. I’ll stay a few more days.’
‘A few more? You’ve only been here one.’ Her mouth was pursed so tightly it had almost disappeared.
‘A few more,’ he repeated, ‘while I work out what’s to be done.’
He stalked out of the room to see his children. But his mind was full of Meriel Steele, and what the hell Sadie Malvern was doing on this bloody retreat, other than finding her inner child.
SATURDAY 22ND JULY CLAUDIE
‘I’ve been so worried about you,’ were Francis’s first words when I found him in my flat that evening. He had stood as I had staggered in, feeling very much the worse for wear, and then I had stood too, frozen with fear. He had come towards me, hands extended – and I had found myself unable to move. ‘Since last week. I felt bad I didn’t contact you to see if you were OK. And now I see I was right to be worried. What on earth’s happened, Claudie?’ He moved as if he was about to touch my face; instinctively I side-stepped.
‘Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.’
My hand was clamped tightly round the phone in my pocket. ‘No, I’m fine.’ Which was quite obviously not true. I could barely stand upright.
He stepped towards me and I noticed an overpowering smell of lavender, and that his smiley blue eyes were a little tired today, the skin around them dry and seemingly more lined.
‘Francis, sorry,’ I tried not to stutter with shock, ‘it’s nice to see you and everything, but how did you get in?’
He smiled, and I thought for the first time that his beard looked strangely like groomed guinea-pig fur, Natalie’s favourite pet of choice when we were kids.
‘Your charming sister was here. She let me in.’
I looked around, and I noticed the Le Creuset casserole dish had been refilled; that there was a note on the side in Natalie’s girlish scrawl.
‘She seemed to think I was someone called Rafe.’
‘Really?’
‘She brought you Stroganoff. She said to make sure you heat it through properly. Smells delicious doesn’t it?’ He smiled again, his mouth almost lost in the brunette guinea-pig fur. I shuddered.
‘She thought you were Rafe?’ I’d never bothered to introduce my sister to my new boyfriend. Natalie was disapproving – well, I was still married – so I hadn’t seen the point. She had raised an eyebrow when she realised he was an MP but her interest in politics was non-existent; she rarely bothered to vote and she only read women’s magazines, and I’d stringently avoided further conversations on the topic once she’d reproached me for dating again. I wanted something that was just mine, that no one else interfered with. Especially Natalie. ‘Didn’t you set her straight?’
‘I didn’t think it mattered. One love, love all,’ he smiled beatifically, and I felt my gut twist with anxiety.
‘Francis, I have to tell you – I’m—’ I took a breath to steady myself. ‘You’re frightening me a bit.’
I remembered the photo of him and Tessa I’d seen in her flat; and I realised how little I knew of this man who’d been treating me, and I felt the cold press of fear.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Claudie.’ His face fell. ‘I really don’t mean to. I