Grace smiled at her sister and tried to rouse her spirits. She went to put her pyjamas on, and when she returned, Annabel had changed the CD and was back in her own clothes. Together they emptied another box onto the floor.

‘So tell me about Ben,’ Annabel said a little while later, as she sorted through a pile of linen.

Grace kept her eyes down as she replied. ‘I’m not sure I can. I don’t know much about him other than the fact he knows how to knock a wall down. You got more out of him today than I’ve managed to in a week.’

‘He lives alone in the house at the top of the hill?’

‘Yes, I think so.’ However, as she spoke, Grace remembered the woman she’d seen leaving early one morning. She opened her mouth to tell Annabel about the red-head, then closed it again, deciding not to. ‘He’s house-sitting, and he said he’s an architect, but other than that he keeps himself to himself.’ In fact, she thought, he was particularly good at answering her questions without actually telling her anything.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll find out all about him when he takes me out,’ Annabel said confidently.

‘Well, good luck. He’s painfully difficult to talk to.’

Annabel laughed. ‘God, I’m used to that in my line of work.’ She put the last of the linen into another charity box. ‘Can we call it a night now?’

‘Let’s just do this one,’ Grace suggested, and moved to a small box in the corner, pulling out what looked like a photo album. She opened it, and her breath caught painfully in her throat.

It was Grace and Adam’s wedding day. She had looked at their official photos many times, but she’d never seen these before. They were simple snapshots. Adam waiting outside the church. Adam with his arms around his grandparents. Then Adam and Grace at the church after they’d been married. She turned the pages – to see Adam and Grace with his grandparents; Adam and Grace with her parents; with Annabel; with her extended family; with their friends. Adam and Grace …

She had to summon all her willpower to swallow the emotion that began to rise in her throat. She searched their faces for some clue that their love story was destined to end abruptly, that they weren’t as happy as she had imagined – but all she could see was joyful smiles and laughter. That night, as they had gone to sleep in a four-poster bed, Adam had whispered his love in her ear, telling her he’d had the greatest day of his life. And when he’d first held Millie in his arms he’d promised he would do everything possible to protect his family. He’d said it with such gravitas. Too much gravitas? How would she ever know? Could she really live the rest of her life with all this doubt? But what choice had he left her?

She had forgotten about Annabel until she moved closer. Grace leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder and Annabel wrapped an arm around her. ‘I don’t get it …?’ Grace’s voice began to break. ‘Why would he just go …? He couldn’t. It isn’t right, Bel … But I don’t know … What if he –’

‘Enough,’ Annabel insisted, taking the album from her and putting it back in the box, then closing the lid. ‘You’re drunk and emotional, Grace. Here …’ She took Grace’s glass and poured them both another wine.

‘Remind me, how will this help?’ Grace asked, before she put the full glass to her lips.

‘Medicinal purposes,’ Annabel replied assuredly, and took a great gulp of her own drink.

By the time they went to bed they had both drunk far too much. For Grace this normally meant that she would sleep solidly until morning, but tonight her rest was fitful, with blurry visions running into one another: strange shadows on hilltops; indistinct figures walking towards and then away from her; Adam’s face close to her own; an empty bed; a stone bridge; a stream; then finding herself standing alone in a glade of trees, a voice calling her name. Chasing it, only to hear it echoing behind her. Twisting and turning trying to find its source, but never catching up. She woke with a start numerous times, settling down when she heard Annabel’s soothing snores beside her, but each time she fell asleep again her dreams only tormented her more. In the morning she woke up groggy and disorientated, and when she moved to the window, she saw that overnight the landscape had been transformed by a pure white covering of snow.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you!’ Annabel said. She had disappeared briefly mid-morning, but Grace had been too busy with Millie to notice where she’d gone.

‘And what would that be?’ Grace asked, helping Millie with her drink.

‘I’ve just seen Emma next door, and she says she’ll be happy to babysit on Christmas Eve – so we can go to the ball Meredith was on about!’

Grace swung to face Annabel, hand on hip. ‘I can’t believe you did that without asking me first.’

Annabel glared at her. ‘Oh lighten up, Grace. They live NEXT DOOR! Emma’s the most convenient babysitter you’ll ever find. She’s even coming round here so you can put Millie down in her own bed. The most she might do is use a tea bag or eat a packet of crisps. Could you please live with that, and stop being such a wuss?’

But Grace wasn’t going to be talked down. ‘No, Annabel, that’s not the point. Where Millie’s concerned, I make the decisions. I’m going round to apologise, right now.’

She picked up Millie and went outside, stomping down the garden path before heading up next door’s. She rapped hard on the door and waited.

Moments later, a teenage boy answered. His face was so white that if Grace hadn’t heard Emma and Carl mention a son, she would have suspected that this was the resident ghost of next-door’s cottage. His blue eyes and ruby mouth looked strangely artificial against the rest of his flesh, like they had been coloured in – and she was sure his eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner.

‘Is your mum in?’ she asked politely.

He left the door open and skulked off, his shoulders hunched.

Emma came to the door a moment later, tea towel in hand. ‘Grace! Come in!’ she said cheerily. ‘Don’t worry about Jake – he’s going through his Goth phase! And hello little lass.’ She reached out and took Millie from Grace. ‘Now, you,’ she said to Millie, ‘are just in time to sample some of Auntie Emma’s cupcakes – they’re still warm!’ And she carried Millie down the hallway.

Grace followed her through to the kitchen and launched straight into her apology. ‘I gather Annabel asked you about babysitting Millie – I’m sorry, she got a bit ahead of herself, and I hope it didn’t look rude. She spoke to you before consulting me. You’ll surely have other plans on Christmas Eve.’

‘Oh, don’t be daft,’ Emma said. ‘I’m happy to, I told you at the pub. We’re staying home this year so I’ll get everything sorted in the afternoon. Then Carl can stay in with our bairn and I’ll come round a little early so you can tell me where everything is. I’ll be glad to leave this place for a while; truth be told, it’s all moody silences from the lad and bursts of irritation from Carl at the moment. If it’s just me and the baby it’s like a little holiday, so I won’t know what to do with a few hours to myself! I’m quite excited about it!’ She stroked Millie’s hair, and as Millie put her fingers towards Emma’s mouth, she pretended to bite them. Millie let out a joyous squeal, making both women laugh.

Emma went across to a tray of cakes, then looked back at Grace. ‘Is she allowed?’

‘Yes, that’s fine.’

Millie took one eagerly, then Emma turned the kettle on and came and sat down with the little girl on her lap. Millie looked at her treat happily, before biting into it with satisfaction.