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I brought mugs of tea into the living room and handed them to Meg and Tash before sitting down.

Mum was spending the night in hospital for observation.

It wasn’t clear if she’d simply misstepped and fallen, or had another stroke.

Meg looked shaken. I was so grateful she’d been with her.

This had underlined the fact that my mother couldn’t be left alone, but how would this all work now without Dad?

My plan had been to stay here long enough to finish probate.

But it wasn’t going to be that straightforward.

In fact, far from it. Unless she improved dramatically, she would need full-time live-in help.

Tomorrow I would begin looking at the options, after I’d spoken to her to see what she was thinking and feeling.

Meg cleared her throat. ‘I hate to raise this now, but could you check why the standing order for my salary hasn’t gone through?’ Her glance darted about the room, taking in the antiques and artwork.

‘Absolutely.’ I gave her an encouraging smile. ‘I’ll ask my mother for her log-in details.’

She twisted the mug in her hands. ‘I did ask her about this shortly before she fell.’

‘The fall was not your fault,’ I said.

‘You had every right to ask that question.’ Tash stood and walked towards the wood burner.

The day was far too warm to require its heat, but it gave the room some life.

Despite the familiar artwork adorning the walls, the house lacked something, and I wasn’t sure what.

It could simply be that I missed my childhood home.

‘Whatever the problem is, I’ll resolve it,’ I said with more confidence than I felt.

‘Right, in that case I’ll be off. Call me in the morning when you know what’s happening.’ Meg rose and left. My spirits sank without her bright presence in the room.

As the front door clicked, Tash turned to me. ‘Do you want me to make the first stab at your dad’s desk, and also see if he noted down your mother’s passwords?’

I frowned.

‘It’s what my parents do.’ She laughed. ‘Dad keeps a small spiral-bound notebook with all the passwords in it. Not very security-minded, but needs must.’

‘Thank you.’ My shoulders fell. She was being an absolute star.

‘We’ve had quite the day, and I seem to recall your father had bloody good taste in wine.

’ She grinned, and it was clear she was thinking about the time we took a bottle from the cellar thinking no one would notice.

But we’d pinched a bottle of Chateau Margaux and of course he had.

The only thing he’d asked was whether we’d enjoyed it.

That had been far worse than if he’d told me off, or grounded me, because he knew we hadn’t.

We’d already been drunk, and the quality of such a special wine had been completely lost on us.

‘I’m sure I can find something.’ I went to the dining room, where my father had relocated his wine collection, remembering how Paul had come straight here on the one night he’d stayed.

Without asking, he’d taken one of the finest bottles and opened it.

He had drunk the better part of it himself, only thinking to offer my mother and me a glass when it was almost finished.

When I’d raised the subject as we crawled into bed that night, he’d said he’d needed a drink to counterbalance the loss he’d seen on my face.

It hurt him that I was so broken by my father’s death, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him.

Tash was wrong about him, and about me. Yes, because Paul was older I did different things now, behaved differently, even sounded older.

Tash’s friendship had pushed me into the fray of life, but I’d always been a bit quiet.

Paul brought this out in me and that wasn’t bad.

She only thought those things because they didn’t get on.

My stomach growled. A lasagne would hit the spot tonight and I knew there was one in the freezer, so I looked for an Italian wine that would match it. Landing on a Barolo, I took it to the kitchen and opened the bottle before locating the pasta dish and placing it in the oven.

After I’d dropped off a glass of wine to Tash in Dad’s study, I went to my mother’s bedroom. Her tablet was beside the bed. If she had a banking app, it would be on this rather than her phone. She didn’t keep anything important on her phone since having it stolen a few years ago.

The pile of letters of condolence teetered on the bedside table. I sank onto the bed. How was I supposed to handle this? Should I do it for her? I picked up the top envelope, which was already open. It was their latest bank statement.

The account was five thousand pounds overdrawn.

My hand shook. This made no sense. They’d sold the big house for a tidy sum, and Dad had always been careful with money. Never tight, but watchful.

‘Ren, there’s something you need to see.’ Tash appeared in the doorway, staring at me. ‘What’s up?’

I held the statement out to her. ‘What do I need to see?’

She led me to the study. ‘Take a look at that.’

It was another bank statement. I scanned the page, struggling to breathe. Just two days before Dad had died, he’d made a payment of a hundred thousand pounds.

‘Did you find any other statements?’ I asked.

‘Yes, there are large chunks of money going out every month, to the same recipient.’

‘It can’t be blackmail,’ I said with more certainty than I felt. This explained why Meg’s standing order hadn’t been paid. What the hell was going on? Would there be a way to find out what was happening?

‘Over the past year, your father has paid out about six hundred thousand pounds.’

‘Seriously? That’s madness.’ I paused. ‘That would be all the profit they made on the house after the purchase of this one.’

‘Yup, and according to this,’ she tapped the last statement, ‘there was only five thousand pounds in the account at the start of the month.’

‘The funeral cost a lot more than that.’ I pushed my hair off my face.

Did he and my uncle receive a salary from Barton’s?

I’d never paid attention to that type of thing when I had worked there.

I’d been paid and that was all that mattered.

But my mother needed money to survive and more money to thrive.

My phone rumbled in my pocket. It was Paul. ‘I have to take this.’

Tash raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? You’ve just discovered your father has shelled out over half a million pounds over the past year. Do you really need his shit as well?’

I froze for a moment, wanting to say something, but instead I accepted the call and walked into the kitchen. If he was going to shout at me, Tash didn’t need to hear it. I didn’t need to either, but I would.

‘Are you ghosting me?’

I sighed. As if. ‘Mum’s in hospital.’

‘What?’

‘She had a bad fall and they don’t yet know if it was caused by another stroke.’

‘God, Ren, I’m so sorry.’ His voice dropped to a soothing level. ‘This is such a worry for you.’

I closed my eyes. He didn’t know the half of it. ‘It is.’

‘You haven’t replied to Jenny.’

‘What?’ I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

‘She’s emailed you and you haven’t replied.’

‘How do you know?’ I hadn’t looked at my phone, let alone my emails, for hours.

‘Umm,’ he cleared his throat. ‘She called me, concerned.’ ‘Really?’ It was the weekend.

‘Yes, she was checking on when you’d be returning to work.’ He paused. ‘They’re getting ready for the new season.’

‘They don’t need me until they’ve chosen the objects.’ I didn’t need this right now.

‘Not so sure. She’s very keen about something.’

‘OK, I’ll call her on Monday.’ I paused to prepare myself to ask the next question. ‘Why were you talking to my uncle about me and saying I was vulnerable?’

‘Darling, I’m worried about you and I thought he might be overloading you.’ He drew a breath. ‘Being executor of your father’s estate is a big enough job already.’

I couldn’t argue with that. ‘Fair, but please don’t intervene on my behalf again.’

‘But I love you, and you don’t stand up for yourself.’

‘Please allow me to.’

‘I’m only trying to help.’

It didn’t feel that way. It was making everything harder, but I couldn’t tell him that right now. ‘I know.’

‘I’m so worried about you. I miss you, and you need routine.’

I twisted the wine bottle on the counter, then glanced at the corkboard by the door, at the photo of Dad in his cycling gear. Dad, what were you doing paying out huge chunks of money?

‘Ren, are you listening? Cornwall isn’t good for you. Too many bad memories, and with your father gone it will make things worse. Think of your mental health.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re lying. I can tell. You always look after yourself last, and I bet you’re paying too much attention to Tash. She sucks you dry.’

Tash had been nothing if not focused on me. Possibly a bit too closely, because I didn’t like what she’d had to say about me and how I’d changed.

‘She tells lies as well. She doesn’t like me and she’s jealous of the life we lead.’

‘No she isn’t.’

‘She covers it well.’

I stood up straight. ‘Look, I know you’ve never liked her, so I hardly think you’re in a position to judge her and her life.’

‘I don’t like the way you are when you’re around her. You change.’

I closed my eyes. ‘I don’t change. She simply brings out sides of me that you don’t need.’

‘That’s one way of putting it. I bet the two of you have been drinking.’

I looked at my still untouched glass of wine. ‘We haven’t.’ At least this was true.

‘You don’t lie convincingly, but that’s something I love about you. I can read you so well.’

This was a trap. If I protested, it would tell him I’d lied to him; if I didn’t respond, he would assume the same.

My phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen.

‘That’s the hospital. Bye.’ I disconnected and breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Ren Barton.’

‘It’s Dr Helmsworth. I just wanted to let you know that your mother did not suffer another stroke.’