‘Oh God, I’m so tired I don’t know what to think any more.’ Checking her watch, Juliet gathered up the bag of clean clothes. ‘Thanks for these, anyway. Say hello to Jake, and give Sophie a big kiss from me.’

They headed back to the ITU. As they approached the corridor they both heard the sound of hysterical sobbing behind the closed door to the waiting room.

‘What’s happening in there?’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Maddy regretted them.

‘It’s Donna’s family. Donna was a hit and run yesterday.’ Juliet kept her voice under control.

‘She’s eighteen. The doctors have just told them she’s brain-dead.’

Maddy closed her eyes.

‘Anyway,’ Juliet went on, ‘how are things with you? Are you still missing Kerr?’

Maddy instantly felt smaller than she’d ever felt before. Yes she was missing Kerr, of course she was, but compared with everyone else’s problems hers was laughably insignificant.

‘Don’t worry about me.’ Giving Juliet another hug, choking back tears at the thought of Tiff lying helplessly in his hospital bed, she said, ‘Ring me if there’s anything else you need. And give my love to Tiff. We’re all praying for him.’

She actually was, too. Despite never having prayed before.

‘Thanks.’ Juliet wiped her own brimming eyes. ‘Me too.’

Maddy returned to the hospital at twelve thirty after finishing her deliveries. Marcella, waiting for her outside the main entrance, thought how pale and drawn she looked. Supermodels might aim for stick-thin limbs and hollowed cheeks but Maddy looked better with a bit more weight on her. There was an air of defeat about her too. She hadn’t said anything, but Marcella knew why this was.

Well, there was nothing she could do about that. But she could certainly do her best, as a mother, to cheer Maddy up.

‘Lunch,’ Marcella declared as she climbed into the passenger seat of the Saab. ‘My treat.’

‘I’m fine.’ Maddy shook her head. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘Rubbish. Look at you, skinny as a broomstick! You need feeding up, and Nuala can manage without you for another hour. We’ll go to Quincey’s,’ Marcella announced, because this was one of Maddy’s favourite places to eat. ‘And sit outside like proper sophisticated ladies wot lunch.’

When Marcella was in this kind of mood, Maddy knew there was no point trying to argue with her. Within ten minutes the car had been parked and she and Marcella were sitting at a table for two on the broad pavement outside Quincey’s wine bar with two orange juices, two giant menus and — for ever-ravenous Marcella — a vast bowl of olives. The moment they’d finished ordering, Marcella reached down and began delving into the pink raffia basket at her feet.

This was when Maddy, her attention wandering, gazed across the road and saw who was seated in the window of the restaurant opposite.

The sensation was akin to a giant syringe shooting a gallon of adrenaline into her bottom. Sitting bolt upright as if she’d been electrocuted, Maddy stared first at Kerr, in profile to her, then at the glossy brunette sharing his table.

Oh Lord, this was too much.

‘Here we are,’ Marcella gaily announced, waving a small, curling piece of paper.

For a moment Maddy wondered if she’d hired a private detective and was now presenting her with evidence that Kerr had found himself another woman.

‘Take it,’ Marcella urged, ‘it won’t bite you. Can’t bite you,’ she added with a grin. ‘It hasn’t got any teeth yet.’

Kerr was sitting less than twenty feet away and Maddy was having to behave as if everything was normal. She wasn’t even sure she could remember how to breathe.

‘Are you OK?’ said Marcella.

‘Sorry, sorry.’ Guiltily Maddy grabbed the photograph and gazed at the funny little broad-bean-with-legs that was destined to become her stepsister or -brother.

‘That’s his heart,’ Marcella proudly pointed out, ‘and look, that’s his bladder!’

‘Wow, his bladder.’ Willing herself to concentrate, Maddy did her best to keep her hands steady.

Without much success.

‘You’re trembling.’ Marcella looked concerned. ‘Darling, are you sure you’re all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ Glancing over the road, Maddy saw that Kerr and the brunette had finished their meal and were preparing to leave the restaurant. ‘Um, you said he. Is it a boy?’

‘They always call them he,’ Marcella explained. ‘I don’t want to know whether it’s going to be a boy or a girl. It’s because you haven’t been eating properly,’ she scolded, taking hold of Maddy’s hand and giving it an admonitory squeeze. ‘That’s why you’ve gone all shaky. When our food gets here, you’re going to eat everything on your plate.’

The door of the restaurant opened, and Kerr and his female companion stepped out into the street.

Terrified that Marcella might turn round and spot him, Maddy hastily pointed in the opposite direction and said, ‘Ooh look, there’s that actor you like, the one from Casualty!’

Peering in vain through the crowd of tourists dawdling along, Marcella leaped to her feet for a better look. The sudden movement, coupled with the brightness of her acid-yellow shift dress, captured Kerr’s attention. Turning his head, he focused first on Marcella before his gaze shifted to Maddy.

‘Where?’ demanded Marcella, desperate to get a glimpse of her favourite actor. ‘I can’t see him!’

Maddy was unable to speak; she couldn’t stop staring at Kerr.

‘What’s he wearing?’ Marcella called out, by now hopping up and down.

What was he wearing? Dark blue suit. Bottle-green shirt. Polished black shoes. Probably his usual aftershave, but from this distance it was impossible to tell. And still he hadn’t moved. What must the brunette be thinking?

More to the point, who was she?

‘Well, I give up,’ Marcella announced, plonking herself back down with a sigh of disappointment. Then she brightened. ‘Oh, I know what else I’ve got to show you!’

In slow motion, Maddy realised what was about to happen. She could read Kerr’s intentions in his dark eyes, knew that he’d reached a decision. He was about to come over and confront Marcella, make her understand that enough was enough, that she wasn’t being fair. Oh God. Maddy felt herself go hot and cold all over; he really did mean to go through with it.

‘How about this?’ Marcella, who’d been delving in her straw basket once more, assumed the air of a conjuror triumphantly producing a rabbit from a hat. ‘Taa-daa,’ she cried, waggling a tiny hand-smocked baby’s outfit on a white hanger. ‘Isn’t it fab? Look at the little cardigan, and the bonnet with the birds on it. They were selling them in the antenatal unit to raise funds for a new scanner. And how about these little leggings, aren’t they just adorable?’ Her eyes alight with joy, Marcella danced the outfit up and down on its hanger. ‘I know I said I wouldn’t buy anything yet, but I just couldn’t resist it.’

Across the street, Kerr had seen it too. The sight of Marcella proudly waving the baby clothes stopped him in his tracks, reminding him why he and Maddy had stopped seeing each other in the first place. For a fraction of a second their eyes locked again, silently acknowledging that it couldn’t happen.

‘They had the most gorgeous little striped bootees as well,’ Marcella confided. ‘I wanted to buy all of them! Will you look at the work that’s gone into that embroidery?’

Feeling as if her heart was about to crack in two, Maddy leaned across the table and dutifully admired the workmanship. Out of the very corner of her eye, she saw Kerr and the brunette moving off down the street.

There really wasn’t a lot of point in torturing herself further, wondering who the very pretty brunette was and what she was doing having lunch with Kerr.

It’s nothing to do with me, Maddy thought resignedly. He’s gone and that’s that.

‘Hooray.’ Marcella abruptly whisked away the baby outfit as a waitress approached with their plates. ‘Food’s here. About time too!’

Chapter 45

The good weather had broken at last and Kate was glad; torrential rain suited her current mood far better than unrelenting sunshine. As she trudged along Main Street, soaked to the skin, Norris veered abruptly off to the left, in the direction of the workshops.

‘Come back,’ Kate groaned, but Norris, with his selective hearing, chose to ignore her.

‘Blimey, you look rough.’ Kate leaned against the doorway of Jake’s workshop, shoulders hunched, hands tucked up inside the sleeves of her grey jersey. Currently drenched with rain, it weighed a ton.

‘Pot, kettle.’ Jake raised an eyebrow and stopped planing the edges of a casket lid. ‘At least I don’t look as if I’ve just crawled out of the River Ash.’

‘I don’t have stubble on my chin,’ countered Kate, because she hadn’t been exaggerating, Jake really was looking dreadful. As well as the three-day growth on his face there were shadows under his eyes. Basically, what with one thing or another, nobody in Ashcombe was currently looking that great.

Apart from Bean and Norris of course, who fancied each other rotten and each thought the other one was gorgeous.

‘Any news about Tiff?’ said Kate, and Jake shook his head.

‘No change.’

‘Have you been up to the hospital?’

Another shake. ‘It’s not my place to interfere,’ said Jake. ‘Juliet’s there with 01— your father.’ He rubbed his jaw with a dusty hand. ‘How about you? Tiff’s your half-brother.’

‘If he opened his eyes and saw me, he’d be scared out of his wits.’ Kate pulled a face. ‘I’m the one who yelled at him, remember, for getting ice cream on my trousers.’