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sitting with her arm around Lily, telling her they wouldn’t let her be upset, would always look out for her – came suddenly to mind. The picture was so sharp he flinched.

      ‘The girls mentioned a boyfriend. Did you know about him?’ Loretta said.

      ‘No, I mean I don’t think there was anyone.’ But, of course, he’d been working away a lot recently, so he couldn’t be sure. Hannah would have told him, though, wouldn’t she? Something as important as that?

      ‘Apparently, he’s connected with that sect: the commune.’

      Joe stared, thinking he must have heard wrong.

      ‘You know, The Children of Light.’

      Her gaze was steady, and he could almost feel her itching to note down his reaction. He forced himself to speak calmly although his heart was beating faster. ‘No. Lily wouldn’t have got involved with them.’

      ‘That’s not what Monique says. She says Lily started going there and met Samuel. Do you think Hannah knew?’

      He tipped the rest of his coffee down the sink then turned to take the mug Loretta held out to him. It was obvious she was watching and waiting for more. Knew she’d hit a nerve. He put the tablet in the dishwasher, switched it on, and continued to stand, looking out at the garden. The shed door at the back was open, the grass needed cutting, and a couple of towels had been hanging on the rotary line for days.

      ‘Hannah was with them – The Children of Light – when we met,’ he said. He could feel Loretta’s eyes on him and had to turn and look at her. She wasn’t even pretending this was just a chat now. ‘But it was all so long ago and it couldn’t have anything to do with Lily.’

      He told her the bare bones: that Hannah was an orphan, only eighteen, and he was a bit older, twenty-four. She had got mixed up with the commune when she became homeless. They gave her a bed, but she was fed up with the way they tried to run every aspect of their converts’ lives. Joe met her, they fell in love and that would have been it, but The Children made it difficult for them, kept sending people round to ask her to come back.

      ‘They threatened her?’

      He’d almost forgotten Loretta was there. It must be one of the techniques they taught them – to become invisible. Be careful. He made himself pause and slow down. ‘I don’t think so. She just said they kept on about how she’d turned her back on the Light. Stuff like that. We laughed about it.’

      ‘And it stopped?’

      ‘Oh yeah. She hasn’t had any contact with them for years. Not that I know of anyway.’ Stupid, stupid, why did I have to say that? Hannah doesn’t keep things from me.

      ‘But she’d have been angry if Lily got mixed up with them?’

      ‘Not angry, no.’ He wasn’t falling for that one. ‘She’d have been …’ he searched for a neutral word, ‘concerned. We both would. I mean, that was why she was so keen to get away in the first place. Didn’t want Lily growing up there.’

      ‘Hang on a minute, Joe, I thought you said Hannah left them when you first got together. That would have been before Lily was born, surely.’

      Oh, God, she didn’t know. Hannah hadn’t told them. He took a breath. Tried to speak casually. ‘No, because when I met Hannah she already had Lily. She was nearly two. I’m not – I wasn’t – her real dad.’ Very aware of her silence he found himself rushing on. ‘But Lily knew. We told her when she was old enough. She said it didn’t matter because I was all the dad she needed. I always treated her like a dad, loved her like a dad. Well, better than a dad if mine was anything to go by.’

      He knew he was rambling, could feel her waiting for the words to dribble to a stop. The guilty-sounding words. But he couldn’t stop, even though his voice was beginning to waver. ‘I thought Hannah would have told you, but I suppose she didn’t think to. As I say, we all thought of Lily as mine. Well, she was mine. I adopted her.’

      There was a pause before she smiled at him. It was a lovely smile, and he could almost believe it was genuine.

      ‘No, Hannah didn’t mention it, but never mind. It’s best if we have all the facts.’ She folded her arms, still with that gentle smile. ‘And the biological father?’

      ‘He’s never been in the picture, and Hannah didn’t want to talk about him.’ He was doing it all wrong again, but Loretta seemed satisfied. She glanced at her watch and stood, putting her bag over her shoulder.

      ‘Well, thanks for the coffee, Joe, and for clearing things up a bit more. It’s not easy, I know, to talk about the past at a time like this, but if we can get a detailed picture it can only help. Hannah seems a bit calmer today, but if there’s an emergency you’ve got my mobile number.’

      When she had gone he went upstairs. Hannah was lying on the bed, her dark hair spreading over the pillow. She was wearing a sleeveless summer dress with a bluey green pattern. It was one he’d always liked, but she hardly ever wore because she preferred trousers. Her bare legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles, her toenails still painted red, and he was filled with such a longing for her he had to bite his lip to keep back a gasp.

      When he took off his shoes and lay beside her, as always, now, she turned to face the wall. He wanted to pull her round, force her to talk, but he was afraid of what she might say. What they both might say. Instead, he curled over and put his arm round her. She stiffened, then seemed to relax just a little.

      It was enough. He pressed his face into her hair and felt the sobs wrenching out of him. Something deep inside tearing away. Then, unbelievably, Hannah’s hand, feeling so cold and rough he almost didn’t know it as hers, reached up and covered his.

      How long he cried, gripping her cold hand, smelling her stale hair, he didn’t know but, finally, he slept.

      When he woke, Hannah was gone.

       Chapter Four

       Rosie

      Fay was at the window before Rosie even registered the sound of the car. ‘Daddy. Daddy’s home.’ She bounced about and dragged at the curtain, threatening to bring it down, as Oliver pulled into the drive with a rattle of gravel.

      He had been gone a week and, although they were used to his trips away and he’d rung home every night, Fay hated it. For Rosie, too, the house had seemed very empty.

      They stood on the step, Fay still bouncing, until Rosie let go of her hand. Then she ran to throw her arms around her dad’s waist while he tried to lock up and deal with his jacket and briefcase. Watching them, Rosie couldn’t help smiling. They looked like an advert for the perfect family – or part of it anyway. She had the feeling that, if she joined them, everyone would say they’d miscast the mother.

      As always, when she saw Oliver after he’d been away, she thought how good he looked. They’d spent a lot of weekends this year messing about on the little cabin cruiser they kept moored at Rye Harbour. He’d picked up a tan, and the way his short fair hair had been brightened by the sun really suited him. He swung Fay into his arms and kissed the top of her head, looking over to smile at Rosie: the sweet smile that made her heart glow.

      Still carrying Fay, he struggled through the front door. ‘Now I need to breathe and to talk to Mummy for a bit please, sweetie,’ he said, lowering Fay to the ground and untangling her arms from his neck.

      But Fay wasn’t going to let him off that easily. ‘I’ve done you some pictures. They’re in my room.’ She took his hand and pulled him across the hallway to the wide staircase as he laughed and raised his fair brows at Rosie.

      Listening to Fay chattering away upstairs and Oliver’s soft replies, Rosie smiled to

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