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‘Fine, I’ll talk to your dad. But it won’t be easy to forget this.’

‘Really, Mum?’ She offered her a withering gaze, only for Wendy to shrink beneath it.

‘Fine.’

‘Great. Then can we get back, please? I think my boyfriend probably needs rescuing. I don’t want to imagine how Dad’s been treating him.’

As it happened, her father hadn’t been giving Evan a hard time at all, or at least not verbally.

When the front door clicked open, Evan came rushing through from the living area into the hall.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, looking from Holly to Wendy and back again.

‘We’re good,’ Holly said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. ‘Mum, I think you have something to say to Evan, don’t you?’

Holly watched as her mother pouted. It was hard not to laugh. She had never seen much of herself in her before, yet the way Wendy’s bottom lip protruded was almost identical to how Hope sulked.

‘Evan, I’m very sorry for giving you a hard time when you were so kind to come and pick us up from the station,’ she said. ‘I realise the Vespa, though sadly misguided, was a well-intentioned gift.’

‘And…?’ Holly pushed her. There was still more her mother needed to say.

‘And no one is to blame for the accident other than Holly herself,’ she said, with a sigh that sounded more like that of a petulant teenager than a grown woman.

‘Thank you, Wendy. No hard feelings here,’ Evan said, at which Wendy grunted.

‘Well, I’m going to put the kettle on,’ her mother said shortly afterwards, and squeezed past him into the kitchen.

‘Sorry,’ Holly said the second they were alone, dropping her head onto Evan’s chest. It wasn’t exactly the heartfelt apology she had been hoping for, but it was something. ‘Where’s Dad?’ she said, when she lifted her head back up. ‘Has he been awful?’

Evan shook his head. ‘Not at all. I haven’t seen him. He went out into the garden when we got in. Said he needed to water his plants. I offered him help, and he said he didn’t need it.’

‘Did he at least make you a drink first?’ Holly asked, yet again embarrassed by her parents’ rudeness.

‘No, but he showed me where the kettle and the teabags were.’

Holly forced herself to take a deep breath in before turning and heading into the kitchen, only to find her mother standing just inside the doorway, clearly eavesdropping.

‘Mother… Will you?’

‘I’ll talk to your father now,’ she said, before hustling outside and disappearing into the garden, no doubt to fill Arthur in on both the contents of hers and Holly’s conversation, along with his requirements to apologise and be nice to Evan.

Holly let out a deep sigh of relief. ‘I’m so sorry. They’re not normally like this.’

‘Don’t be silly. They’re your parents. They’re going to be protective of you. How did it go talking to your mum? Did you say everything you needed to?’

Holly shrugged. ‘Pretty much. I mean, it’s tough. On the one hand, I understand why she did it. But it’s going to be difficult toforget. I think she thinks everything’s going to go back to normal with us straight away, and I don’t think that’s going to be the case. Not for a while, at least.’

‘Well, someday soon, when you and I get our own house, big enough for all of us, this is going to be a thing of the past.’

Holly leaned into him, allowing Evan’s arms to wrap tightly around her. For a few minutes, they stayed there, completely at ease, and Holly found herself wishing all life could be as simple and perfect as that hug.

It was only when they were back in the car that Holly checked her phone and saw she had a message. The name was enough to make her stomach somersault. Giles. Giles had messaged her back already, although the sight of his name didn’t affect her nearly as much as the contents of the text:

I came back last night. Fancy brunch tomorrow?

58

Deep down, Holly had assumed Giles wouldn’t be able to meet up. After all, it was the summer, and therefore, fair to assume he would be out chartering his yachts to the wealthy holidaymakers in the south of France. If she was honest with herself, she’d expected nothing more than a quick apology reply, saying he’d try to catch up when he was next back. Or perhaps even no reply at all. She certainly hadn’t expected this. Breakfast. Tomorrow.