A Good Mother by Patricia Dixon 3

Chapter 37.

Gina Babs had had one too many already and by her own admission needed to sober up. So while she nipped to the L, Gina scooped a very large spoonful of coffee into a mug and waited for the kettle to boil. She was less stressed than an hour or so before when Robin surprised them all with, "Tada! Look who's joining us for tea." Gina had been recovering from her confessional with Robin when the arrival of Babs wiped out the lingering sense of gloom. Rosie cheicked from her power walking. Tipsy and in a foul mood, Babs had slammed an almost empty bottle of procco onto the side. Then, as she yanked a full one from her rucks sack, began to tell Gina what a raving pillock her Pete was. The arrival of Robin and Willow stemmed the flow, and in a heartbeat, the conversation flipped from ripe language to welcoming words. As hugs were given and chairs pulled from under the table, Gina could feel the crackle of tension, like a spell that could be broken at any second. And judging by the weary glance Babs gave her, no doubt her friend could feel it, too.

Nervousness was written on Robin's face, but gradually the telltale lines eased. Her shoulders relaxed with the innate powers of sensory perception cultivated by women folk across the land. Signals were read, leads were followed, and eventually they all relaxed. Willow sat by Gina, who pulled her chair a bit closer, their hands linked, a gentle stroke of a thumb for reassurance, while Babs fussed, clearly thrilled to see her. Willow had nodded here and there, nibbled on this and that, smiled occasionally, and drank half a glass of her favorite raspberry pop. Even though her concentration wandered and her energy waned, the time she'd sat with them was a gift, and the photos Robin insisted on taking, precious momentos. By the time Willow asked to go back to her room, Gina could see that she'd almost left them anyway, retreating further into silence. Still, it was progress. Gina was sure of it. So rather than feel sad it had ended, she told herself to look forward to the next time.

Footsteps on Lenolium signaled the return of Babs, who plunked herself on a chair while Gina passed her a mug of coffee. "Thanks, love. I need this. Got a bit carried away with the plunk." She took a tentative sip, then placed it on the table. "Wasn't it lovely to see our willow? She looks well, doesn't she? A bit on the pale side, but I don't suppose she gets out much. It made Robin's day that she joined in. I could tell." Gina nodded her agreement and took a place at the table, wanting to speak quickly before they were interrupted. "Listen, I told Robin about Nate. It came out in the middle of another conversation, but it felt like the right time."

"Oh, bloody hell. No wonder she looked a bit misered when she came down, and while I think of it, Missy, you looked a bit terrified when I arrived. Is something going on?" Babs had lent forward, her arms crossed on the table, a frown relaying her concern.

"Yes, but I don't want to mention it unless Robin does. Just the vicar being his usual self." A noise overhead caused them both to look upwards, and Gina changed the subject. "This spread is lovely, isn't it? Have you tried one of these?" She held up a tiny savory and put it on her plate.

"Yes, I had three. But you do know that you're supposed to eat them, not just look at them." Babs gave Gina the pursed lips, raised eyebrow look that she'd perfected to a tea. The arrival of Robin saved Gina from a telling off, and grateful for the distraction, she turned the focus of the conversation to Willow.

"Is she okay?" Robin flopped into a chair at the head of the table, nodding as she poured herself a glass of red wine. "Yes, out for the count. She's had her nighttime meds and will probably sleep straight through now. She's exhausted." Gina and Babs watched as she took a glug of wine before replacing the glass on the table. "I so needed that. Are you two not joining me?"

"No, I'm driving and I promise Babs a lift later. I'm fine with tea. I'll make myself one." Robin waved Gina in the direction of the kettle while Babs gave a little chuckle and picked up her mug. "I'll have this coffee then I'll join you for another sod it I've been looking forward to tonight so I'm not going tea total but I will pace myself and I'll have another one of these sandwiches they're bloody lovely." After a lull in conversation while Gina made a mug of herbal tea, Robin drained a glass of wine and refilled it. Babs munched away and no sooner had Gina plonked her bottom than Robin made a surprise statement.

"Men are total utter bastards." A more gentile sip followed by a less forthright comment directed at Babs. "Gina's told me about Nate, and frankly, I'm not in the least bit surprised. In fact, I've had my suspicions for a while. I suppose I convinced myself that he wouldn't do that to Willow, but he has, and now I can deal with it. So, thank you for being honest." Babs reached over and gave Robin's hand a squeeze, the gesture reciprocated.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"No idea yet. I'll give it some thought, but I know one thing. If he's carrying on with some woman, he's not living under my roof any longer. He can bug her off. I can't imagine what Edmund will say when he finds out. Another sinner living under his roof. No doubt we'll have a fire and brimstone lecture and he'll see it as some personal attack on his impeccable reputation." She took another sip, a breath, then rolled her eyes. "I mean, as if having a gay son wasn't bad enough. Then a daughter, a mere woman, wanted to take holy orders and then in the midst of despair tried to take her own life. And then there's having me for a wife. Poor Edmund. It'll be worse than the 10 plagues of Egypt all over again." Robin took a glug of wine this time, while Gina shifted uncomfortably in her chair, knowing full well that Dirty Eddie's reputation was far from impeccable. God, she bloody hated secrets.

Babs looked outraged. "Well, he can't say a single bad thing about you, Robin, because as far as I'm concerned, you're perfect and he's bloody lucky to have you. We all are. Isn't that right, Gina?" Gina nodded. Babs was on a roll. "And not all men are bad. Our Gina's Jimmy is a good lad. So, we can't lump him in the bastard category with the vicar in my Pete, who's bloody useless, as far as I'm concerned." Babs was looking to Gina for affirmation and met by silence. A big lump of something was stuck in her throat, and in her head, all her worries, fears, and confusion were pushing their way to the front like a great big ball of fire, burning a hole in her brain, making her eyes sting. Babs had noticed, and still holding on to Robin's hand, spread her arm sideways and took Gina's hand in hers. "Love? What's the matter? You've gone a funny color. I've not upset you, have I?"

Gina gripped the handle of her mug and Babs's hand, and before she even had time to think about the words she'd kept trapped inside for so long, blurted them out. She couldn't bear to keep them in a second longer. "No, you've not, but Jimmy has." Babs looked from Gina to Robin, then back to Gina. "Why? What has he done?"

"Well, for a start, he's not the good lad you think he is. He's having an affair, too." Two gasps filled the room, and beating Babs to it, Robin spoke first. "Oh, Gina, surely not. What on earth makes you think that?" Gina was losing control. All the months of evidence gathering. The nights she'd spent talking herself in and out of her suspicions was swelling up inside her and about to burst forth from her throat. The anger and humiliation, the disappointment and bewilderment needed to get out and be heard because otherwise she would go mad. When the tears came, they were followed by the scraping of chairs and arms around her shoulder. Then, once she'd been patted and shushed, had drank a full glass of water and used three sheets of kitchen roll. Gina was finally able to explain about Jimmy.

Chapter 38.

Babs. Babs was lost for words, and that was a rarity. Never would she have thought that Jimmy would be up to no good. It was inconceivable. But with that, Bella Young, well, that had knocked the wind right out of her. He'd lost the plot. He must have. jeopardizing his marriage and family for that stuckup flooy. Bella had always been a horrible child who'd grown into a horrible woman. And no matter how much they dissembled all the evidence that Gina laid before them, as much as Babs didn't want to admit it, it looked like Jimmy had joined the bastard squad. He'd be in good company with Edmund, Nate, and Pete. It had been awkward enough earlier, hearing Robin describe Edmund as having an impeccable reputation. It made her cringe, but how could she expose him without shaming Gina? The last thing the poor love needed was to hear that her own mom had been at it with the vicar all those years ago, and Robin needed it even less. Bab's bloody hated secrets, but for the sake of her two dearest friends, she would keep the one about Edmund for the time being. She quite liked having that little nugget in her pocket just in case.

The matter most urgent was what to do about Jimmy. "I think you need to confront him, Gina. And I know you're scared that if it comes out in the open, he'll leave. But you can't go on like this. It's clearly making you ill, and there could be a reasonable explanation. So, I think it's worth giving him a chance." Babs poured herself a glass of procco, telling herself she needed it, and didn't care how merry it made her. The evening was going rapidly downhill, and she'd not even got round to telling them that she was going to leave Pete. That could wait.

Robin lent forward, her fingers spinning the base of a half full wine glass. "I agree with Babs. This is clearly making you ill and you have to think of your own health as well as protecting the children. I do understand though what you're doing. I'm guilty of the same and I'm sure Babs is too." Gina looked up, her eyes swollen and her gaunt face blotchy and red. "What do you mean?"

A sigh. Then Robin explained. "Keeping the peace. That's what I mean. Maintaining the status quo so that the children don't get upset. And because you think the situation you're in is better than any you can imagine alone. I've made all the excuses. Told myself I was doing it so Willow and Chris could live in a childhood bubble of bliss. I made sure arguments were kept from their little ears. That they never heard me cry and thought the smile I painted on at breakfast was real. I know you're scared of what the future holds if the balloon goes up, but is living a half life fair on you or ultimately Max and Mimi?" Robin turned to Babs, who took the baton.

"She's right. I've done it for years with my lot. I've plotted on, kept the peace, agreed to things I shouldn't have, put my three first like it was my goal in life. And if I'm honest, put Pete after them. But when it comes down to it, I always came last."

Gina sounded shocked. "But that's what moms do. We put our kids first, and that's what I'm doing now. I want to keep the family together for them so they don't live the life I had. I'll never be like Debbie because she was the most selfish woman on this earth. I just can't accept it. Let him go. I have to find a way to keep him for them."

Babs's heart was hurting for her friend because while she was trying to get it right, she was getting it so wrong. It was hard to explain. Then she had an idea. "Look, Gina, I've known you since you were a little girl and love you like family, which is why I can be honest. I know all about your mom and how you strive to be the total opposite of her in every way, but you have to stop because it's blurring your judgment and affecting how you live your life."

Gina's hand went to her chest, her expression one of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You know when I slag Pete off and complain about the kids, and I do a lot, you brush it aside. It's just Babs going on with herself. The thing is, my family, my life, my marriage might not be something you should aspire to. I'm certainly not perfect. And recently, I've had to face up to the mistakes I've made. And one of them you're making right now. Like what?"

"Like settling for second best. Putting my dreams and wants aside, the kids first. To some extent, that's okay. when they are little. Toddlers who can't fend for themselves or seven-year-olds who think their dad's the bee's knees. Teenagers who need stability. But when does it stop? When is it ever the right time to say, "Yoohoo! Look at me. I deserve to be happy, too." One day, you wake up and realize life is passing you by, and it's a horrible feeling. Is that how you feel. seriously that life has passed you by?" Babs gave a nod. "Yes, love. I do."

Then Robin. "And I'm sure thousands, millions of women have turned a blind eye to an affair, thinking it will blow over and it's a phase, a midlife crisis, whatever. It probably always ends in tears." For a heartbeat, there was silence, followed by a question from Gina. "So, what would you two do if you found out Pete and the Vicar were having affairs? Would you leave them?"

Babs answered immediately. "Too bloody right. He'd be bimbagged and out the door in a flash. To be honest, I've often wished it that he'd run off with someone from the office and then I could play the injured party and have a cast iron reason to call it a day."

Gina was a gasast. "Oh my god, are you really that fed up with Pete? Would you really leave him and the kids?" And there it was, the million pound question. And now it had been asked. Babs was suddenly desperate to voice her intentions, ones that right up until that moment had seemed like an outof reach fantasy. "Yes, I am that fed up. And there's a strong possibility that I'm going to leave once I've worked out how to do it."

Even Robin sounded shocked. "Would you really leave Demi? I mean, Isaac and Sasha are adults now, but surely Demi needs you. She's only just started college. I honestly can't believe you'd even consider it. And that's not a judgment, by the way. It just sounds so unbabslike to abandon her family."

Babs puffed out her cheeks. "But I'm not abandoning them. Two of them are adults and need to stand on their own feet. And I don't think they ever will while I'm around. And as for our demi, she's got her head screwed on and she'll be leaving for university in a year or so. And what will happen to me then?" She looked from one to the other, then answered her own question. "I'll still be there stuck in my life and another year wasted and coasting. I'm not doing it anymore."

"But what about Pete? Don't you love him anymore? Has he been horrible to you or something? And you've kept it quiet?" This was from Gina.

Babs reached for Gina's hand and gave it a jiggle. "No, love. He's not been horrible. Not in the way you mean. It's just been Pete, and that's probably my fault. I have to take some responsibility for how it's all turned out because I should have stood up for myself more. made the effort to get him to understand how I felt and been firmer with the kids so many things. I can't change the past, but I can bloody well change my future. And as for whether I love Pete, yes, I do. But like an old friend I've known for all my adult life. I don't wish him any ill, but I do have to make a choice. Do I plot on or do I take a chance?"

Gina nodded. "Only you can decide that, but I'm curious. Have you actually explained all this to Pete and given him the chance to change? Or do you not want him to?"

Bab sat back in her chair, weary from her exchange with Pete and opening her heart to her friends. But there was no point in telling half a story, and if it meant helping Gina in any way at all, it would be worth it. "I did want him to change and I've tried to make him understand. But today, just before I came here, it dawned on me I was wasting my breath. Gina, love, pass me that bottle. I'll have a top up, then I'll tell you about our layby rendevous, and then you'll see why I was half cut when I got here." By the time she'd given them chapter and verse, Babs could tell that Gina and Robin were on the same page, and it was a relief to have got it all off her chest. It had been stupid keeping it all bottled up, and she wished she'd confided in one of them beforehand. It might have eased the burden. Turning to Gina, she asked her a question.

"So now, do you understand what I was trying to say? I know you love the bones of Max and Mimi and want to protect their lovely world for as long as you can. But please, love, don't sacrifice yourself in the process. In the end, you'll be more miserable than you are now, and they deserve a happy mom with or without their dad, who, for the record, deserves a chance to prove you wrong." Babs was relieved to see Gina nod, yet not surprised by her answer.

"I'll give it all some thought. Proper thought. The kids are going for a sleepover at Jimmy's parents this weekend. He's dropping them off on Friday, so I'll have time and space to approach him. I just need to get it straight in my head and pluck up courage."

Robin spoke next. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. And both of you, please, please promise you'll ring me or each other from now. I can't believe you've both been going through the mill and kept it to yourselves. Let's promise to be here for each other day or night. That's what friends are for. And I'm so glad to have you two in my life." Instinctively, all three of them stretched their hands towards a space on the table and formed a pile, one hand on top of the other in solidarity. It was a special moment and it meant a lot to Babs and she hoped to the others too. Then something pinged into her head.

"So that's me and Gina all unburdened. So now I think it's your turn, Robin. We still haven't discussed Nate and what to do about him. We need to get our heads together." With a release of hands, they all reclined in their chairs, and Babs could see that Robin was deep in thought, her brow furrowed, and then a light in her eyes. "Yes, we do, but before that, we need something very important." Babs was intrigued. "Oh, what's that?" Standing, Robin headed to the fridge, smiling as she went, a mischievous look in her eye. "It's obvious." She pulled open the door and reached inside before showing them what she meant. "We need chocolate cake."

Chapter 39.

Robin. It had been a bluff, stalling for time, but the chocolate cake had done the trick, and even Gina had accepted a thin slice, which seemed to please Babs no end. Robin had taken a portion but had zero appetite for food, whereas the rest of the bottle of red was sorely tempting. She'd have to abstain, though. A couple of glasses was her limit in order to remain alert in case Willow needed her. And in the light of Gina's information, Robin would have to be doubly on the ball now she knew Edmund was playing mind games. The reason for her stalling tactics wasn't actually down to avoiding a conversation about Nate. It was because Babs' heartto-heart and the bearing of her soul had deeply touched Robin. It also rattled her cage because some of what she'd said had been uncomfortable listening. It was no secret to Babs or Gina that her marriage to Edmund had more or less broken down. The parishioners most likely believed she'd had some kind of breakdown to match that of Willow, or she was grieving. Robin didn't give a toss what they thought. She and Edmund were never seen together outside the vicorage. She never attended services, and even if Gina or Babs were unfortunate enough to be there when Edmund was around, you could cut the air with a knife. Robin had even mentioned in passing to Babs that she wished there was space in Willow's room for a small single bed, or that they had four bedrooms, anything to not share a room with Edmund. The desire to draw a line between them, even down their mattress, was immense, and secretly. She knew Arty hated the thought of her lying in the marital bed. The whole thing rire of shame and embarrassment. At least after the news about Nate, that little problem had been solved, and at last there would be room at the inn the second she gave him his marching orders. For the time being, she would endure it.

What she couldn't shake was Babs's mention of dedication to her children and how she wished she'd acted sooner compared to Gina's intention to put them above herself. Robin had done both and hated seeing a reflection of herself up close and personal. If Babs did leave Pete and the family, would Robin admire her or despise her? Not for the act, but because it would make Bab seem strong, and that made Robin feel weak. She'd missed her chances. But at the same time, had she not stayed with Edmund, Willow would be alone? Or would she? Would Robin's affair with Arty have profoundly changed all of their lives, many courses of events? Would she have moved to France? And if so, they'd never have gone to town that day because the shopping trip had been Robin's idea. Oh, God help me.

Someone tapping the table saved Robin from her mental torture. "Earth to Robin." Robin looked at Babs, who gave her a quizzical look. "Are you okay, love? You've gone a bit pale."

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. This is my autumn shade of unhealthy. I need a daily dose of sunshine to keep my fair skin and freckles looking perky, and this dreary October gray isn't helping. Do either of you want more drinks?" Robin attempted a jovial tone, but it hadn't managed to reach her heart that was wallowing in the past and wary of the future. It seemed Babs was determined to sort everything out.

"So, do you know how you're going to approach it with Nate? I don't envy you that conversation." Robin sighed. "No idea. He's away for a couple of days and won't be back until Thursday. He's taken a field trip to the lakes. Or so he says. Let's face it, he could be with his lover for all I know. I could get our demi to find out. You know, ask about at college and see if there are any field trips at the moment. I know her name though, if that's any help. Then you can hit him with all the info so we can't wiggle out of it." Did she want to know? Then spend all night trying to put an imaginary face to a name.

"What's she called? Josie Bilton. She teaches English. I can find her on Facebook if you like. Or would you prefer not to see?" Of course she wanted to see. Now she had the name. She wanted a face to hate and blame for stealing Nate away from Willow. And then in the time it took Babs to rumage in her rucksack, find her phone, then jab and scroll the screen, Robin had realized what a big fat hypocrite she was being. Where was her understanding and humility? Had she forgotten that Nate had suffered too? Had lost not only mayor but his wife and marriage as he knew it. And from somewhere he'd found the strength to get up each morning and go to work. Forge ahead. Forge a life that didn't contain the two people he'd once loved the most and perhaps still did. But they were gone. Mayor for sure. Willow indefinitely. Josie Bilton's smile lit up the screen. She was pretty, a brunette and petite. Who could blame him? How could she look Nate in the eye and say she didn't understand why he wanted to be with someone who made him happy, lightened his load, made him look forward to the day, and leave at home the sadness he carried around with him.

After she'd looked at the screen, she asked Babs and Gina the same question. Gina answered first. "Because he's married, he should stick at it and not just throw in the towel the first chance he gets. He has responsibilities, a duty of care to his wife and the memory of their baby. Surely, he can see that. And it's so easy, isn't it? Because he has you here 24/7, leaving him free to do what he wants."

Babs had her say next. "I see it from both sides. I don't think there's a right or a wrong. Nate's had to cope with so much, too. And who knows how loss affects people in different ways. The only person who seems to be totally absolved of any feelings or responsibility is the vicer. Unless he just doesn't show it."

"Okay," said Gina. "So, we have to take into consideration Nate's feelings. And maybe I'm projecting my anger and confusion at the Jimmy situation, but I'm so let down. That's my overall feeling. The people always let us down, don't they? And as for the vicar, I'm sorry, Robin, but I can't imagine what goes on in his head, and I don't think I want to." Gina's shoulders sagged as she began tearing up a servette, leaving shreds of paper on the tablecloth.

"I know what you mean, Gina. That's how I feel. Very let down. I'm not angry at Nate, and in some ways, I'm sorry for him. The man he used to be wouldn't find deceit easy, and I hope that his betrayal of Willow and of my trust in him weighs heavy. That would be some punishment, I suppose. I'm not condoning what he's done, but I can't castigate him for it either."

"Well, I think that's very generous of you, Robin. I don't think I'd be so-"

"What's the word that begins with M?" Gina helped out.

"Magnanimous. Yes, that's it." Babs paused, then had another question. "Are you going to tell Edmund?"

"I suppose I'll have to, but I can't bear the thought of listening to another one of his pompous rants. And no matter what he's done, I wouldn't wish the wrath of Edmund on Nate. I'll deal with it when he comes back, but he'll have to leave. He can't stay here. Not now, I know."

"I think you're right, love. Nobody needs a big drama and shouting match. So maybe if you just have a sit down adult conversation with him, you can come to some arrangement. He could still come and visit Willow, couldn't he? And she probably won't even realize he's gone." Babs gave Robin a reassuring smile, and her words had made a lot of sense.

Gina didn't sound so convinced. "But we'd have to lie to her, and I don't think I could do that. Pretending Nate is still here seems even more cruel than her knowing the truth."

Robin focused her attention on Gina, who looked on the verge of tears. "Gina, you know as well as I do that for much of the time, Willow doesn't even know what day it is, let alone who's in the house. She has no concept of time and hours, and weeks can go by. What would be the point in trying to explain to her that Nate has left? I also think if she grasped it, it might cause a reaction that none of us would want to see or deal with." Gina nodded but didn't reply. Instead, she wiped away her tears.

Babs lent across and gave Gina's hand a gentle pat before turning to face Robin. "Can I ask you a question? It's something I've wanted to brooach for a while, but there never seemed to be the right time. But seeing as we're having a proper heart-to-heart, I hope you don't mind. It's a bit personal." Robin could only stare, curious and a tad nervous about what the soulsearching question might be. A slight nod gave Babs permission to ask away.

"What about you? Are you happy? And forgive me, I don't mean with Edmund because you've made it perfectly clear over the past few years how you feel about him. I mean with your life in general." Robin couldn't speak simply because she didn't know and that shocked her to have no true concept or opinion of her own state of happiness where she was on the smiley scale. Her silence only encouraged Babs to embellish.

"The thing is, Robin, you dedicate yourself to Willow day in day out, and I know you have your little jollies to see your friend Francesca now and then, but if Nate goes, that leaves you as sole carer, and from where I'm sitting, it could mean putting the rest of your life on hold. Are you content with that, living here with Edmund in limbo?"

Defense. That was the word that first sprang to mind. And Robin came out fighting. "Willow could improve. One day she could live as a fully functioning adult. It's early days and there are so many new drugs in trial and therapies too that we haven't even tried yet. So don't write her off babs. That's what Edmund has done. And from the looks of things, Nate, too. Love, I know this. And I hope with all my heart that the doctors will get her better and she comes back to us. Our Willow is in there somewhere and tonight I saw a glimmer of what could be. I'm just worried that in the meantime, you're going to burn yourself out and have nothing left for you." The anger had abated somewhat, and Robin reminded herself that Babs meant well. Her question was fair, so sought to reassure rather than take offense.

"Perhaps Nate going is a watershed and it'll force me to take a look at our situation differently. Maybe I can search for some alternative therapies and ask the team if she can go on one of the drug trials. But as for my dedication to her, that's non-negotiable, and I'll put her before myself always. It's my duty as a mother, and whether it's right or wrong, that's how it will be." Robin watched as Babs nodded her understanding, but there was one more thing she had to say.

"I get what you were saying, Babs, and I know it comes from a good place because like you said earlier, you put your three children first, but now it's not enough. The good thing is you really are free to go. And if you do, I want you to be happy. And I understand why Gina wants to stay for Max and Mimi and would sacrifice her happiness for them, even if it means turning a blind eye to what Jimmy may or may not be up to." She gave Gina a smile that she hoped conveyed many things, most of all solidarity.

"I used to imagine that I might catch Edmund having an affair with someone. anyone would do, preferably the bishop, because that would have made me so bloody happy for the most perverse reasons." This was followed by titters and lifted the mood slightly. "But if I was ever going to leave my unhappy marriage, then it had to be on my terms, for my reasons, and not as a result of Edmund's fall from grace. Like you, Babs, I stayed, got on with it. I know I miss my windows of opportunity and I cannot tell you how I regret that for so many reasons." It was there again. That dreadful thought like a portant that whispered, "It's your fault. Chris would have be much happier away from his bigoted father. You'd never have gone into town."

"But I can't change the past."

"All the one thing that also held me back."

"What was that?" Babs asked.

"My faith." Gina's head flicked up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that in the most perverse way, the thing that made me who I am was at the core of my whole life and filled me with great joy and peace has trapped me. My faith in a way has kept me prisoner here." Gina frowned. "I don't understand how."

"It was so hard to put into words that wouldn't sound like an excuse, even though it probably was. No matter how unhappy I was, I couldn't condone breaking my marriage vows because divorce was is just something I wouldn't contemplate, especially when my parents were alive. It would have horrified them, my father in particular. And you know what?" She looked from one to the other. "I think I was hiding behind it, making an excuse because I hadn't the gumption to leave. And that makes me so angry with myself."

"So why don't you change things then?" This was from Gina.

Robin sat back, tired, her spine aching from sitting upright, and she had the greatest desire to lie down for a very long time, to give her body and her brain a much needed rest, and with her next words squashed any chance of that, because "I simply cannot abandon Willow. The thought makes me shudder because Edmund has already hinted that she needs better care than I can give her. And with Nate gone, I'm her only hope."

Gina's face suddenly showed signs of comprehension, most likely at the mention of Edmund. "Ah, I see. And I agree. She needs you to protect her from the warped mind of our dear Reverend and her philandering goodfor-no husband." The bitter sarcasm in Gina's words wasn't lost on Robin and neither was another fact that she chose to keep to herself. That just as she had been trapped by faith and duty, Willow was in a similar situation. Her beliefs and the fear of breaking a commandment was holding Willow prisoner inside her head and there on earth. Edmund hadn't helped. Robin would do whatever it took to prevent Willow from harming herself, but unlike Edmund, could never stoop to mental cruelty. Willow was tormented enough, and to use her faith as a tool was warped, especially when it and her own father should be bringing comfort.

The clink of glass connecting with a side plate saved Robin from her plagued mind as Babs took the bottle from the table, sighing as she poured. "I don't know. The things we do for our children boggle my mind. We never stop being mothers, do we? Even when they're grown up, we still love them and want the best for them. And that makes it harder to make decisions for ourselves. Unless you get lumbered with a mother like mine, who had no trouble whatsoever doing exactly what she wanted. The person she cares about most is herself."

Gina was scraping her pile of shredded servette into a neat pile. "As far as I'm concerned, you two are perfect, and you've always looked after me like I was one of your own, and for that, I'm so grateful." Babs placed a hand to her chest. "Oh, that's a lovely thing to say, Gina. In fact, I remember you once told me that me and Robin reminded you of a mummy bird who put the little baby bird under her wing. stayed with me for days. That did. But I'm not perfect. I reckon our Robin here is-"

Robin halted Bab's mid-sentence. "Whoa. No way am I perfect. I can assure you of that." To this both Gina and Babs rolled their eyes, which made Robin laugh, and as she did, in an unguarded moment, allowed her innermost secret to escape.

"Huh? Well, what if I told you I'd been having a mad passionate affair for the past 15 years, and instead of going to visit Francesca, I actually met my secret lover whenever he can slip away. We have rendevous all over the place and make love for hours and hours." Robin's eyes swept around the table, suspecting hers was as shocked as the one staring straight at her, open mouths adding to the looks of horror until-

"What are you like, Robin? You're a bloody nutter sometimes. I don't know. I'd more likely believe our Pete was having it away with Mrs. Bolan down at the library. You dafted booger, right? Should we clear this lot away? Then we'll be getting out of your hair, secret lover." Bab stood chuckling and shaking her head and accompanied by Gina, who also thought the idea was hilarious, they began moving plates over to the sink. Robin remained seated, watching them as they fussed and tidied. She was glad the night had ended on a merrier note after their soulsearching and revelations, but still one thing, one person was weighing heavy on her heart and mind. She couldn't help thinking of him, them, and how they'd ended up so far apart, yet so deeply in love. Before she stood to help Babs and Gina, Robin spoke to the man she'd put last, and in many ways had trapped, just because he loved her so much.

"I'm sorry, Arty, my love. I truly am. And somehow I'm going to put it right. I promise."

Chapter 40.

Gina. It was a sunny, dry Thursday, and as she walked back home that morning, the picturesque village of Little Bington was carpeted in golden russet leaves. It had been 2 days since their very heavy yet illuminating girls night in, and between the school and nursery run rigma roll and life in general, Gina had thought of nothing else. The advice she'd been given played on a loop in her head. Just reminding herself of what she should do made her stomach turn, and had it not been for the parcel that had arrived that very morning, she might have convinced herself again that it was a silly mistake. If only she had the courage to talk to Jimmy about it, the whole thing would be cleared up in a roll of the eyes and a what do you like jokey moment? Or perhaps not. Gina never opened Jimmy's parcels when they arrived and vice versa. It was a rule they both adhered to simply because she'd once ruined a Valentine's Day gift that arrived much earlier than Jimmy expected. However, now it was spooky season and that didn't warrant a cheeky prey. Her birthday wasn't until next April with their anniversary shortly afterwards. Therefore, the box she accepted from the courier was unlikely to be for her, and that was why she opened it. Two new mobile phones, identical apart from the cases. One was gold, the other silver. Cheat phones. What other explanation could there be? Gina had sat and stared at them for possibly hours. She couldn't remember. It was only when she realized that he'd know they'd arrived from the tracking advice that she panicked. Not because she'd broken their rule, but because their presence was forcing her hand, going her into asking him who they were for. Minutes later, they were back in the nondescript jiffy bag that she'd laid face up on Jimmy's desk in the hope he wouldn't notice she'd opened it. And if he did, she was going to bluff it out and blame Mimi. Mimi owed her one anyway, for the time she'd put one of Jimmy's favorite limited edition trainers down the toilet. The bowl hadn't been empty either, and it took ages to get rid of the stains.

From the arrival of the parcel, the day had crawled torturously on, and when Jimmy came home from a meeting, later than expected, but in a particularly upbeat and attentive mood. Or was he nervous? He seemed agitated for sure. Gina put it down to one thing. Guilt. He hadn't even gone into his office when she told him a parcel had arrived and she'd left it on his desk. He didn't rush to open it, but of course he wouldn't, would he? He'd then insisted on making dinner and made quite a point of telling her all about his meeting and how tedious it was. He was currently giving her a running commentary of the conversation he'd had with his mom on the drive home. "She's planning all sorts of Halloween activities for the kids this weekend. Literally can't wait to see them tomorrow. Dad's excited, too. He's such a big kid at heart. Do you want a brew? I'm going to have one."

"No thanks. I'm good." Gina continued to stare at the television, unable to meet his lying eyes. Overcompensating. That's what he was doing because her paranoia whispered that he'd really been with Bella. The thought made Gina want to throw up. In fact, she couldn't bear being in the room with him a second longer and for a terrifying moment almost screamed out that he should shut the [ __ ] up and stop lying and being a fake and that she knew he was a cheat. It was only the thought of Max and Mimi upstairs that helped her swallow down the words and the howl of despair lodged in her throat.

"I'm going for a soak. My back's aching and I've got period pains." She wasn't even on her period, and the quizzical look Jimmy gave her hinted that he thought the same, but she ignored him and his offer to run a bath for her. Instead, she made her way upstairs, feeling his eyes watching her take each step. She knew. He knew. She knew. Gina could sense it. Closing the door behind her, she turned on the taps and sat on the side of the bath, watching as it filled, and as she did, a thought occurred. The sleepover had been planned for a couple of weeks. And in all that time, knowing they'd have a full kid-free weekend, Jimmy hadn't suggested they do something fun and make the most of the time. and it was halfter term the following week and nothing had been mentioned about days out with Max and Mimi or even a little getaway like he usually did. In fairness, she hadn't mentioned it either, but that was because her head was a mess and anyway, she didn't feel like being fair. He didn't deserve it.

"Bath bomb." Gina opened the cabinet and searched for one and remembered they were downstairs in the utility room where she left them when they arrived. She wanted to see the fizz and watch the colors explode and for the scent to tickle her nose. Christ, she needed cheering up, and if a bath bomb was all it took, so rather than spoil her soak, she turned off the taps and opened the door, intending to make a quick dash downstairs to grab the box and avoid Jimmy. She'd reached the bottom step when she heard his voice. He was in the lounge, the door shut, and he was speaking quietly. Seconds later, her ear was pushed against the wood, listening.

"She seemed okay when I got in, a bit quiet, I suppose. No, no, she didn't ask where I'd been." Gina's gut churned. "I feel awful, though. Like it's prolonging the agony, and I should just tell her now." Someone had interrupted him. He was silent, then continued. "Yeah, you're right. One more night won't hurt. And like you say, we don't know how she's going to react when I tell her, so it's best the kids aren't around, just in case." Gina's hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes scrunched shut as if smothering sight and sound would also block out the truth. There was a period of quiet while the person at the other end of the call, and Gina knew exactly who that was, spoke. And then Jimmy-

"School's shut tomorrow. Something to do with the boiler being repaired. So, Max is off and I'm taking the kids to my mom's after breakfast. And then when I get back, I'll tell her. All being well, we can leave straight after. So, should be on the road by midday." Oh, dear God, no. He was leaving her. He was really going to end it. Gina could barely stand, but she had to listen to it all. Hear as much of her fate as she could, and then just like him, she could prepare.

"No, don't worry. I'll mention that, too. It needs saying, and she's going to have to face up to it. No, I won't let her persuade me. Yes, I promise I'll make her understand." Gina was in actual physical pain. Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. and every bone and senue in her body was rigid as Jimmy hammered the last nail into their marriage. "I'll let you know how it goes as soon as I can, so try not to worry. Okay, look, I need to go."

By the time Jimmy had ended his call, and Gina heard the lounge door open and close, followed by tuneless humming and the click of the kettle, she had collapsed in a heap at the top of the stairs. From there, she somehow managed to stand and on legs like jelly, she staggered to their bedroom. After peeling off her clothes down to her bra and knickers, she dragged back the duvet and folded her trembling body into bed. Eyes staring at the window out beyond the glass, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. There was only one thought inside her head that repeated over and over and over, stating the obvious and demanding an answer.

This is my last night with Jimmy. He's going to leave me. How can I stop him? And there she lay, time running out, only hours until Jimmy said goodbye, while the bedside clock marked the longest minutes ever. As later she felt Jimmy slide into bed and lie silently in the dark so close yet a million miles away. Gina wondered what was

going through his mind. The urge to slide her hand across the sheets was immense. The desperation that consumed her, her need to connect with him one last time in any way he desired was nowhere near as powerful as the pride that forbade it. Pride told her to get up and sleep in the spare room. Weakness made her stay.

Soon his breathing relaxed into the pattern of sleep, and while she listened, Gina marveled at his ability to leave tomorrow in the hands of his conscience. She despised him for it, too. For everything, for what he was about to do to their family, for whom he was going to leave them for. Gina wasn't sure which of these killed her the most because that's what he was doing. Second by agonizing second. Death right at that moment seemed the easiest of options because checking out would save her so much pain. No fallout to deal with. That was what she dreaded the most. The after once he'd said the words. It was all going wrong again. And it was so unfair. All of it. To feel such despair that she'd even consider leaving behind her children. No. No. That was so wrong. Sick. Appalling. She wasn't the one that should die. Be taken from their equation.

And then slowly from the darkest recesses of her mind crawled forth a solution. A mad idea. a thought born from anger during one of her runs when she'd stopped by the young farm. She'd imagined it burning to the ground with Bella in it, and the seed of crazy quickly grew shoots of possibility as the roots of a plan began to form in her head. Gina's despair was replaced by drive. A [ __ ] of light had lit the gloom of a blackened room. She had hours to think it through, work it all out, get everything straight in her head. Then in the morning, she would change the course of her life and Max and Mimi's forever.

Chapter 41. Morning is Broken. I love that song, even though I could never sing it in church without sounding like I was actually murdering the Blackbird. Nobody could apart from the choir. The bedroom is still dark, but I can see a sliver of light where Jimmy didn't draw the curtains properly when he came to bed. I can hear the dawn chorus outside. And even though my heart and body are like lead, their chatter lifts me because I'm glad for them. The little birds that are free from human troubles. Oh, to be a bird right now. To be able to put my head under my wing and hide from the day that I know once it has begun will alter my life and that of my children's forever.

It's been the longest night and I am exhausted from taking apart my plan. Walking through it every step of the way and weighing up the consequences. All I have to do is slide gently from this bed for it to begin. I won't wake Jimmy because he can sleep through a storm and Mimi having a night terror and he's used to me and my early morning runs so won't think anything of it. I'll dress quickly in my running gear, then head into Jimmy's study and take the key for the young farm. Next, I'll go down to the kitchen and take my trainers from the utility room and from the store cupboard above the washing machine, I'll take two small disposable barbecues, a pack of fire lighters and matches. I will slip them into my backpack and creep out of the back door. Nobody will take any notice. The neighbors, if they're up, will have seen me many times before, and anyone I pass on route, commuters, dog walkers, won't take a bit of notice. Why would they? Joggers jog at stupid o'lock.

But remember, bad things still happened in the nicest of places, and nutters still roamed free, even in Little Buddington. One of them might be on their way to burn down a house and kill its occupant. Or maybe light two barbecues in the bedroom of the woman who wants to steal their husband. Carbon monoxide poisoning is painless, so she should be grateful for that. However, there's a margin of error because I won't decide until I get there which method I'll use. I'd like to make it look like a suicide, but what if Bella wakes when she smells the fumes? I might have to restrain her or knock her out. But logic tells me that's too risky. These CSI chaps are very clever, which is why I might just start a fire and burn the witch until there's no trace of a hammer blow or a pillow stuffed into her smug Botox face. Lord, I might pop her trout pout lips in the process. Never mind. Once she's toasted to a crisp, nobody will care. It will all be so magnificent. My moment of triumph, watching from the top field as the orange and yellow flames flicker in the windows and out there, far from the road. It'll be a while before anyone notices the smoke. They might even think it's the chimney. Who cares? All I care about is getting rid of Bella because once she's gone, I'll put my marriage back together. Simple. Nobody will suspect me. Babs and Robin, especially. They'd never believe I was capable. Jimmy doesn't know. I know. It will just be a terrible tragedy. And afterwards, if he's sad, I'll be there to comfort him. Me and the children will save him. It's kept me going through the night, this plan. And all I have to do is push back the duvet and place my feet on the floor and then it can start the new day. I turn my head and look at him. The love of my life. One of the three reasons I get up each morning. I want to lean across and kiss him, but I resist. There'll be time for that later. Instead, I slowly crawl from under the duvet, sit, swing my legs to the side, and place my feet on the floor. As I leave the room, I don't dare look back, and silently close the door behind me.

Chapter 42. Babs, happy Friday. What are your plans for today? Babs read the Facebook post and scrolled through some of the comments before clicking off the app. She had zero interest in the wonderful or mundane things people were filling their Friday with. Not when hers was going to go exactly the same as all the others she'd scrubbed and dusted and hoovered through. She looked up at the house she was due to clean, knowing that the occupants would have left to catch the commuter train into the city, leaving her alone to tidy up their mess. It was 9:30 a.m. and as much as she tried to summon the energy, knowing she had three more homes to get to before the end of the day, try as she might, Babs couldn't muster enough enthusiasm to get out of the car. Maybe she'd fried her brain so badly that it couldn't be bothered to send messages to her limbs, in which case she'd be stuck on Mrs. Glenn's drive for the foreseeable future. Her bday would not be getting bleached anytime soon. Hillary, as she preferred to be called, liked her three bathrooms to have the domestto treatment once a week, and the thought didn't fill Babs with pleasure. Babs blamed her bout of malaise on overworked gray matter being at the end of its tether. Ever since Robins, she'd taken apart their conversations in the hope it would make things clearer for herself. It hadn't, and if anything, she was even more beused than before. In a way, once she'd sobered up the next day, Babs was left feeling like the bad apple because she was the only one thinking of bucking the trend and doing the unthinkable, leaving. One good thing was they'd all got a lot off their chests, and in Gina's case, Babs hoped that her and Jimmy could sort things out. But she'd said all she could on that matter, and now would have to wait and see. Her thoughts then turned to Robin, who really did have it tough. It had been incredibly uncomfortable when she'd brought up the vicar having an affair, and Babs had been so flipping glad she'd never outed him. She'd so admired Robin in that moment, saying that if she was going to go, then it would be on her terms, not because the vicar had forced her hand by being caught with his casser. Robin might not believe it, but Babs thought she was a tough cookie and really did need to stop beating herself up about mistakes she might have made. As far as Babs was concerned, Robin was a saint and she'd challenge anyone to prove her otherwise. But none of this solved Babs's problems. That was what she had to focus on because the atmosphere at home was truly shite, and she couldn't stand being there a moment longer. What the hell are you doing, Babs? sit in here like a wet Wednesday, getting nothing done. Bab sighed and went to take the key from the ignition, knowing that Mrs. Glenn's woodwork wouldn't polish itself. Wasting time. That's exactly what she was doing. Wasting bloody time. And if there was one thing she was sure of in that very second was that her road didn't stretch out like Route 66. It was getting shorter with each day. She wasn't 18 anymore with a whole life ahead. So far out of sight that anything had been possible. But now the end of the road might be just around the bend. So if she wanted to reach the rainbow, she needed to get her finger out. Remembering her promise to Robin that they would stop bottling things up, Babs had the overwhelming desire to talk to the one person she should have confided in, someone guaranteed to call a spade a spade and put her straight. her mom. Without a ping of hesitation, Babs turned on the engine and put her car in reverse, shooting backwards down the drive and onto the main road, where she did a very nifty one-handed spin of the wheel, straightened up, then zoomed off. Sorry about your bday, Hillary, but you're going to need to buy some maragolds.

Bry's back door was never locked during the day. It was open house for family and neighbors alike, where you knew to stick the kettle on, get the mugs out, and start making a brew. On this occasion, when Babs pushed the door and entered the kitchen, it smelt of burnt things. The usual suspect was toast or crumpets, bride's staple breakfast diet. It's only me, Mom. She could hear her mom chatting on the phone, so as law dictated, Babs began making tea. And knowing Bridey only drank from her own fancy China mug she bought in Tesco, her favorite daytime haunt, Babs nipped into the living room to hunt it down. Seeing her daughter, Bridey waved and related her arrival to whoever was on the end of the phone, his identity soon becoming clear. Tom, love, I'm going to go cuz our Babs is here. I'll sort out that transfer in a bit. Yes, yes, I know there's no rush at your end, but you're not 87. Who knows if I'll make it to bedtime, so it'll be with you soon. Bridey paused, listening to whatever Tom was saying as Bab swiped the special mug from the arm of the chair and returned to the kitchen. Yes, I'll explain to Babs, but you can tell her the nitty-gritty. I only get it all mixed up. Right, Tara? for now. Give my love to Chris. Love you too, son. As Bab stirred two sugars into Bry's cup, her curiosity was peaked, but knowing her mom, it would only be a matter of minutes before she spilled the beans. After whipping off her coat and hanging it over the back of a chair, Babs carried the drinks through to the front room, eager to find out what was going on. A boat. Our Toms actually bought a boat. Well, I didn't expect that. Bab sipped her tea while Bridey explained all. I know. It's very exciting. You know, like Chris has his band that doors round the resorts in the holiday season. Well, they're going to do music cruises. The idea is holiday makers will take a moonlight trip around the coast and they'll serve food and drink, maybe even pick up some wedding customers, too. I think it's a marvelous idea, don't you? Babs could only agree and admire her brother and Chris for their entrepreneurial skills. I think it's absolutely brilliant, Mom. He's done so well, hasn't he? Really got his life sorted. And it was those words and perhaps being sat in her old family home with her lovely but slightly bonkers mom that caused her lip to wobble and a great big whoosh of despair to rise up. Even if she tried, Babs wouldn't have been able to hold it in. Are you okay, love? Bridey put down her mug and sat forward. Come on, you can tell your old mom what's wrong. And that was it. All it took, soft words and kindness broke the barrier and the floodgates opened. >> "Oh, Mom, I'm in such a mess and I'm so bloody fed up." Babs covered her face with trembling hands, and within seconds, Bridey was by her side on the sofa, hugging her close and telling her it was going to be okay. "That's right, love. You get it all out. Have a good cry, then we'll sort it out. I'm here, Babs. I'm here, love.

An hour later, Babs had vented, explained, cried some more, and been around the houses, telling Bridey everything, that she was unhappy and unfulfilled, and feeling that life was passing her by. She didn't expect her mom to have all the answers, however. Just getting it off her chest felt like progress of sorts. It kind of made her decision to leave Pete a thing, not a fanciful whim. I knew things weren't right. I've suspected it for a long time, but whenever I hinted and hoped you'd say something, you clammed up. But I'm glad you've told me the truth now because it means I can help you sort it out. Bridey stood picking up their mugs and made towards the kitchen. Come on, let's go and make another brew. This one's gone cold and our Demi will be here soon. She always calls on Friday when her lectures have finished. I don't know. These bloody students have more time off than soft Mick. I'll text her and tell her to bring you something from the bakers. We can all have a nice chat and some dinner together. Babs followed her mom, boyed by her asurances and breezy nature. Bridey had the ability to switch from cuddly to practical mom in a flash, as though she could read the room and knew what was needed to jolly everyone along and get things done. It was comforting and made Bab smile as she pulled out a chair at the battered form table that had been there for donkeys years. It was where her grandkids had poster painted, play-dohed, argued, and eaten special grandma bridey tease. Bridey filled the kettle, and once it was switched on, she sent a text to Demi, then turned, sighed, and asked Babs a question. So, madam, what's the plan?

Chapter 43. Bab shook her head. Apart from I don't want to be with Pete anymore. I haven't a clue what's next or how to go about it. That's what scares me. The unknown and how I'm going to get from where I am to something else. A future I can't even see or imagine. I just know it's out there. That's understandable. And it's a big thing. It's serious stuff. leaving your husband and family, but they're not little kids anymore, Babs. And I can tell from what you said before that you've been agonizing over it for a while. One thing I am pleased about is that you've decided to leave and not do what some women do and kick their husbands out. Oh, no. I couldn't do that. It's my choice to end things, so I have to be the one to go. I wouldn't be able to live with myself in any way. Where would he go? I want us to part amicably for everyone's sakes. He's not a bad bloke, and it may sound two-faced, but I do want him to be happy. Bridey nodded, then made an offer. You're most welcome here. That's a given. There's two spare rooms up there, so you won't be homeless. At this, Babs's whole body relaxed. Thanks, Mom. Are you sure you wouldn't mind? I know you like your independence. I am independent whether you live here or not, and this will always be your home, and there will always be a welcome under its roof. Just say the word and I'll air your old room out. Okay, Bab's welled. A nod of acceptance was all she could manage. But before we become roomies or whatever they call it, I think you need a holiday and I know just the place to go. Bridey gave Babs a wink. Tom's. Bridey smiled. Yes, you should go and stay with our Tom and Chris. It's still lovely over there this time of year, and it'll do you good seeing them. And he'll spoil you rotten, which is what you need right now. You'll be able to put some space between you and Pete once you've told him how you feel. A bloom of happiness swelled inside Babs at the thought of going to Tom's. And yes, putting a thousand miles between her and everything. Time to think and work out some kind of plan. Okay, Tom's it is. Which reminds me, where do you come into this boat thing? Because from what I heard earlier, you're involved, too. Bridey gave Babs a knowing smile. Oh, I am. But only that I've given them some money towards doing it up and getting it ship shape for next year. See what I did there? ship shape. Bridey chuckled at her own pun while Babs rolled her eyes. They want to do a full refit of the interior, and that won't be cheap, so I'm helping out. We all know there's no pockets in shrouds, and I'd rather him have some of his inheritance now when it's useful. You'll both have to wait till I pop my clogs to get half each of this place, which is worth a bubble or two, I reckon. Mom, I wish you wouldn't keep saying that. I'd rather you live forever than get a share of your house. God, you can be so morbid sometimes, and I have to say, this lottery win seems to be going a very long way. How much did you actually win? I know it's your closely guarded state secret, but I'm curious. And so is Tom. Bridey chuckled. Well, our Tom knows now cuz I've just told him. And he made me promise I'd tell you, too. Babs waited. Bridey had a glint in her eye that said she was going to enjoy her moment. I won £849,000.72 precisely. Oh my dear God. Babs was stunned. Her hands automatically covered her open mouth. And before you ask, the reason I never told you at the time is because there was booger all any of you could do with it. We were in lockdown, and if I'm honest, in your case, my reasoning was entirely spiteful and selfish. Brighty was known for being forthright, and her honesty came as no shock. Yet her motive left Bab slightly hurt. Why? What have I done to upset you? Bridey tutted. Nout love. So don't look so crestfallen. It's that great gormless lumach of a husband of yours that I'm peeved with. And I'll be jigged if I'm giving him any of my winnings. Thing is, seeing as you wed out, I give you will be half his. And he doesn't deserve it. He thinks he's a hero if he changes the bloody plug. Babs was speechless. She couldn't even find the words to defend Pete or be hurt that her mom regarded Chris as more worthy. It didn't even seem unfair because when it came down to it, it was her mom's money to do with as she wished. Bridey elaborated, "Don't get me wrong. I was dying to tell you all and have a big party to celebrate. I don't know how many times I almost rang you, but something told me not to call it a gut feeling. I thought loads about how the money could help you all making lists of who'd get what, but at the time when the world was going to pot, it actually felt wrong and also a bit redundant. Bridey stood, never one for being still, and set about fetching plates and plopping tea bags into mugs as she spoke. Nobody could go anywhere. And the more I thought about it, people losing their lives and loved ones, I didn't want it to be wasted on something trivial like a holiday to Disneyland or a fancy car, stuff like that. Life had suddenly become very precious, so I decided that once we all came out the other side, I'd make sure it was put to good use. I made a new will, so it was all written down just in case that horrible germ got me. And then I bided my time. Oh, Mom. I know it was a nice thing to happen, but it makes me feel a bit upset, thinking of you keeping it to yourself and worrying about it all. If you'd told me, I'd have understood. Bridey opened the cutlery drawer and brought knives and forks to the table. I know you would, but at the same time, you'd have been keeping a secret from your husband, and that's not right to put you in that predicament. And as I said before, he's legally entitled to half of everything you have. I know. I checked with my solicitor. I'm sorry, Babs, because I know it sounds mean, but he's not getting the very large lump of money I will be giving you once you've sorted yourself out. Do you understand? Babs nodded. The kids will be all right, too, but they'll have to wait for theirs, especially Isaac, who, in my opinion, is taking the bloody piss now, especially as he's going to be a dad. Babs could only agree. So, let Bridey forge ahead. I'm going to wait until he actually stands on his own two feet. And if he does, I'll help him and Fiona out with the money for a deposit. Our Sasha has surprised us all by getting a job. So, same with her. I'll help her with her student loan. And as for our demi, our golden girl, she won't have to worry about her university fees. Out of the three of them, she's got her head screwed on right. and I'm beyond proud of that girl. Had it not been a bit weird and inappropriate, Pabs would have stood and given her mom a standing ovation. And as for Pete, he'll be okay. He has a roof over his head and a good job and all the luxuries he's become accustomed to. Your mortgage must be almost paid up so he won't starve and can afford to pay his bills. And that's all I'm saying on the matter. It's up to you to decide what you do about the house and all that. Just know that financially you'll be okay. No more worrying. Pushing back her chair, Babs rushed around the table and flung her arms around her mom, squeezing her tight. Thank you. I love you, Mom. I'll make you proud. I promise. When Bridey pulled away and placed two firm hands on Babs's arm, the mother daughter look was stern, her words a touch softer. Proud. I already am proud of you. And don't you ever bloody forget it. Never once have I thought any different, and that's a fact. Yes, I was upset when you fell pregnant so young. But I was oh so very pleased by the young woman who put her best foot forward and became a wonderful mom. I watched you juggle it all like I did with you and Tom. It wasn't easy working shifts at the hospital and bringing up a family. I have so much respect for you, Babs. running your own business, a home that you've helped pay for, not to mention three good, very polite, if not slightly spoiled kids. So, from this moment onwards, I want you to promise me you'll hold your head up high and be proud of who you are and what you've achieved. You don't have to make me proud, Babs, because I am already. What I want you to be is happy. Okay. It was Bride's turn to be the hugger, and they were midway through sniffling and smiling when Demi burst through the back door holding up a carrier bag, her face saying, "Uh-oh, what's going on?" Her next words proved it. "Uh-oh, what's going on?" Gran said to bring an extra pie for mom cuz she's a bit fed up. But this looks serious. Like I should have got cakes, too. Babs unfurled herself from Bry's embrace and faced Demi, smiling reassurance and beckoning her inside. Honestly, love, it's nothing bad, but I do need to have a word about something. So, come on, sit down and I'll explain. I promise we don't need cake. So, far as Babs could see, Demi appeared to have taken the news quite well. There hadn't been any recriminations or tears, and she'd listened in silence as Babs explained it all. "Is there anything you want to ask me or say? I'd rather you be honest, love." Demi shook her head. "No, honestly, I get it. And after our beach conversation at real, I'm truly not surprised, especially after the baby news. So, you're going to stay with Uncle Tom? That's the plan, but I need to ring him and book a flight. At this, Demiy's eyes widened. What? You're going to go like right away? Babs nodded. I think I should now. I've decided before I chicken out. I need to speak to your dad first and the others, but I have to know you'll be okay. I don't want my actions to derail your studies by upsetting you. The eye roll said it all. Mom, I'm 17. I'll be fine. And anyway, I'm out most of the time, either at college or the garden center. And they've promised me more shifts now the flipping Christmas trees are all over the place. I'll either be working or studying if I get the chance or here with Gran. Just go and do what you have to. I swear I'll be fine. Babs had a huge lump in her throat and was unable to tell Demi how bloody wonderful she was and most definitely the most golden of her children. Fortunately, she had no need because when Demiy's eyes widened and her mouth made an O shape, Babs braced herself for whatever was coming next. "OMG!" Babs and Bridey exchanged wary glances, then focused on Demi with Babs asking the obvious. OMG, what? A huge smile lit up Demiy's face as she clapped her hands together. A sure sign she was excited. I've just had the best idea ever.

Chapter 44. Gina. She checked her watch again. Jimmy would be back any minute, so she made the most of each second, going over and over how she would react when he walked back through the door. After kissing Max and Mimi goodbye and waving them off, she'd raced upstairs to take a shower, determined to look her best when Jimmy delivered her sentence. If she was going to be a single, divorced parent, then so be it. But his memory of her on the day he confessed wouldn't be of a haggarded, sniveling wreck, which was why she'd done her hair and makeup and chosen a dress that he used to say she looked gorgeous in. And so she waited. Gina had chosen to receive the news in the lounge because it was a room she used least with the children, and so she minded less if it became tainted with unhappy memories. It was bad enough that the utility room would always be the place she broke down in a pitiful heap when she realized how absolutely ridiculous her pathetic plan was. As if she had the guts to kill someone, to smother them in their sleep or gas them to death, let alone start a house fire. Two hours. That was how long she'd sat on the floor, slumped against the tumbler, feeling even more foolish than she had for a very long time. Those two hours had, however, been used much more wisely than those where she'd lain awake planning to murder Bella. The questions came fast and furious, as did the answers. Where had her dignity gone? Down the toilet with her dinner and almost every other meal she'd eaten that week. She needed to be more like her friends. Robin conducted herself with an abundance of dignity, holding her head high in the face of village whisperers, staring eyes and tragedy, refusing to turn her back on Willow, surviving grief, standing up to the vicar who'd slowly and surely eroded a whole family. Robin was made of strong stuff. Be like Robin. And then Babs, who was about to change the course of her future forever. The days of sacrificing her dreams were gone. And as much as she loved her children, always would. She was convinced that being a good mother didn't mean making yourself miserable for them. Max and Mimi had Gina, had each other. She had a talent and a future. And if she was brave, that would be enough. Babs was brave. Be like Babs. Jimmy was going to leave, in which case Gina had two options. Let him go and retain her dignity and no matter how terrifying it might seem, forge a new life for herself. Or she could scream and rage and beg. Then when he'd slam the door, grab a bottle of gin, curl up on the sofa, and turn into her mother. Debbie was weak and selfish. Don't be like Debbie. And then there was Willow. Her beautiful lost friend dealt the crulest of hands, who had the kindest soul and saw good in everyone, who hoped to change the world and earn a blue Peter badge. But the little girl who'd set the caged birds free had ended up trapped inside her own head, forsaken by the man who'd promised to be there in sickness and in health. Willow was powerless and at the mercy of her husband's whim. Don't be like Willow. looking in on the lives of others had brought clarity to Gina's own, a kind of revelation. By the time she'd heard the little monsters stomping about above and their voices on the stairs, her bum was numb. But her tears had dried, and Belly Young wasn't dead. She was still a dirty marriage wrecking slag who Gina hoped would ruin Jimmy's life, but that was by the by. She had dippy eggs and soldiers to prepare, and a husband to say goodbye to. The sound of Jimmy's McLaren pulling onto the drive made Gina swoon, but not in the way she used to, and when she heard the key in the lock and the creek of the door, she thought she might faint. Her fingers gripped the arm of a chair as she waited for him to spot her, having left the door wide open, footsteps from behind, and then his voice, "Oh, there you are. Just give me a sec. I need to grab something from upstairs." His feet pounded on the glass panels, his voice trailing. The kids were a bit giddy in the car. Mom and dad will have their hands full this weekend, I can tell you. More footsteps returning. And then he was in the room. He had been to his office. Gina knew every sound their house made. Pinpoint footstep accuracy. The manila envelope in his hand confirmed it and more. Jesus. divorce papers. He's going to give them to me right now." Jimmy was nervous. She could tell by the pinched expression. So, when he came and sat by her side on the sofa, far too close for comfort, and laid the envelope on the coffee table, she almost flinched, not sure how to react. When he took her hand in his, it only added to her confusion. "You and I need to talk, don't we?" She couldn't speak, so stared instead, not wanting his hand in hers, but too stunned to pull it away. I wanted to speak to you last night, but I wasn't sure. I didn't want a massive row in front of the kids, but I felt terrible knowing you're upset with me, and I really needed to explain. I almost did about 10 times. When you went to bed early, it kind of made it easier, but now the kids are What do you mean? You know I'm upset with you. He sighed. Babs rang me last night just after I spoke to mom. That's why I was late because I had to pull over while she gave me a right royal rollin. Babs rang you. Gina wasn't sure whether to be relieved or cross. What did she say? She said a lot of things because that one's got the gift of the soding gab. But in a nutshell, she told me you think I'm up to no good with Bella Bloody Young of all people, which I'm certainly not. You're not. Joy. Pure unadulterated joy and relief had begun to flow through Gina's body, starting in her heart. And then she tensed. How could she be sure? Jimmy shook his head and answered Gina's question before she could ask. I have no idea how you've come to this conclusion, but Bab said you'd discovered a key, some texts, and bizarrely two saxophones. His lips quivered slightly, and his eyes crinkled at the corners, but he managed to quell an inappropriate giggle and carried on. and she felt really guilty because it was her and I quote big gobb that started it all off when she saw me go into the young place. Gina allowed the flow of happiness to continue and relaxed slightly. He was being far too glib and unconcerned for someone who was about to serve divorce papers. It was time she had her say. Yes, all that's true. I saw the text just before lockdown and I did give you plenty of opportunities to tell me you'd been up there, but you didn't, which made me suspicious. I found the key later in your suit jacket pocket. And then all through lockdown, you seemed happy with me and the kids, so I convinced myself it was a ridiculous mistake. Then, just when I'd convinced myself to move on, I saw another text asking if you wanted to take up where you'd left off. when I found out she was back in the village and then the phones turned up. You put everything together and decided I was having an affair with that bunny boiler because she is. And when I explain it all, you'll feel sorry for me. What I've had to put up with for us. Jimmy dragged his hand through his hair, tension etched on his face. What do you mean? Gina was on the border of being deliriously happy yet still weary. When Jimmy slumped into the sofa, looking more drained than she'd felt for a very long time, she braced herself, imagining Bella throwing herself at him, luring him into the farm and all sorts happening. Just tell me. I need to know because I've been driving myself mad for so long. A deep sigh, then an answer. Okay, so it seemed like a great idea at the time and was meant to be a surprise, but that's gone tits up. So, just hear me out because after all this, there's half a chance you might not want to kill me. And neither will Babs. Thank God. It began a couple of days after our Christmas party. I was mad busy when I took a call from a number I didn't recognize. And seriously, I nearly fell off my chair when I realized it was Bella. Jimmy reached over and took Gina's hand, holding on tight as he explained it all. Despite her flannel about being in between jobs, it seemed Bella was actually in the country to start packing up her parents' belongings and then put the farm on the market. Old Mr. and Mrs. Young had no intention of coming back to Blighty, so had decided to sell up. She'd called on the off chance Jimmy had any contacts that might be interested in buying it privately. A quick sale would save on estate agent fees. I fobbed her off by saying I'd have a think, then rang Guy and gave him a roast him for passing on my private number without asking. Once Guy had apologized, he told me something interesting. Bella was lying. She was also in a lot of debt. Her sunbed shops were in receiverhip, and in desperation, she'd asked her parents for help, otherwise the baiffs would take everything. After they got over the shock, they'd agreed to bail her out via the sale of the farm and in lie of her inheritance. Bella was relying on the sale to clear her debts and start over and would no doubt sell to the first bidder. The day Bab saw Jimmy, he was on his way over to check out the farm, and seeing as Bella was actually in court trying to buy some time with a judge, she'd left the key so Jimmy could have a mooch about. I immediately saw huge potential in the house, outbuildings and masses of land, and I knew it was a great business opportunity. I also knew you would hate the idea, so decided to keep it to myself until I'd done the sums and had something concrete in place. The plan was to sit you down, tentatively mention the b- word, and if you didn't go ballistic, I'd prayed you'd get on board with what I had in mind. A price had been agreed on via both parties and then out of the blue, Bella's dad fell seriously ill and she flew to his bedside the day before Italy went into lockdown. Mr. Young had co nothing could be signed because he was in a coma and everything stalled. Then the UK went into lockdown, too. It wasn't until the flight corridors opened again and Mr. Young recovered that the deal could go ahead with Bella returning to tie up the sale. Then once her debts were cleared, she intended to start again in Italy. So you see love, there was never any affair, just a business opportunity that I hoped would change our lives forever.

Chapter 45. The whole time Jimmy spoke, he hadn't taken his eyes off Gina. She knew because she'd been doing the same. With each word, her world came back into focus. Yet, she still had so many questions. Not to mention apologies for not trusting the man she should have known better. I've been a complete idiot, haven't I? And I feel so ridiculous. I let my imagination and terror at the thought of losing you cloud everything. Then lockdown happened and I had you all to myself and it was perfect. just us in our bubble with the kids. And even though doubts remained, I hoped it was a phase or a mistake. Bella had gone and it was over. Jimmy dragged his hand across his face and side. Gina, you're such a bloody nightmare. Why didn't you just confront me? Then you wouldn't have gone through hell for all this time. Come here, you infuriating woman. He pulled Gina into his arms where she buried her face in his chest, happy tears wetting his shirt as she tried to explain. I was scared right up to telling Babs and Robin, who for the record didn't believe a word of it. They made me see I had to say something. And I intended to this weekend, but maybe Babs knows me better than I know myself and suspected I'd chickenen out. She was probably right because in my head, the minute I said the words to you, that would be it. No more pretending it would be okay. No more silent prayers that you wouldn't leave me. Jimmy held her close, gently stroking her arm as he spoke. He sounded sad. So, you'd have carried on, thinking I was having an affair, worrying day in day out. Gina nodded. Yes, I think I would because I didn't want you to leave us. I couldn't bear the thought of Max and Mimi telling them you had left. She flicked a tear from her right eye. She was making Jimmy's shirt very soggy. Jimmy gently pushed her away and sat up straight, turning his body so he could see her face. That's probably the saddest thing I've ever heard. And it's killing me inside knowing you've been like this. But please, Gina, from now on, promise me you'll never bottle stuff up again. She sniffed and sat up straight, too. Her body lighter than it had felt in a long time. I promise. And there's so much I want to tell you, explain, because I feel incredibly sly and just horrible, really snooping on you and thinking terrible thoughts. There's plenty of time for that. Don't worry. The main thing is, you know, the truth. It was true. She had plenty of time to tell her shameful side of the story, but there was something more pressing she wanted to talk about. Okay, I'll tell you later, but I'm curious about this plan of yours. And yes, I am a bit shocked that you've been communicating with Bella, but under the circumstances, you're forgiven, I think. Ah, my grand plan for world domination. Yes, I need to explain. And then I have another surprise for you. Jimmy winked and brushed a stray hair from Gina's face and tucked it behind her ear. So, if you're sitting comfortably, my little worry bean, I will begin. It had been the seed of an idea for a while to branch out on his own, but the sensible side of Jimmy kept reminding him he had responsibilities, and it wasn't the time until the young farm came up for grabs, and he saw it as a sign, an opportunity that couldn't be missed. he could still work for his firm and the farm could be a sideline, a long-term project. He did a bit of research and found that the land was classed as brown belt, which meant there was a possibility of developing it. Through his previous contracts and gift for networking, he was well connected at the local council. His dad's building firm was a readymade source of labor and expertise. So, all he had to do was join the dots and acquire the farm. Of course, lockdown made everything a million times more long-winded and complicated. Jimmy expected the deal would fall through, so put his ideas on the back burner, quite glad of an excuse not to have to fend off Bella's tiresome, flirtatious innuendos each time they spoke. Instead, he settled into life at home, which he loved. And this led to another epiphany. I wanted working from home to be the norm. I also saw you were battling some kind of preconceived notion that women have to go out to work once their kids went to school. I could tell you were putting undue pressure on yourself when you were already lacking confidence and there was no need. No matter how much I reassured you, it was like you were bowing to the unseen face of society and far too conscious of how being a stay-at-home mom would be perceived. Bloody Bella Young and her catty remarks didn't help either. He tried to point her in the right direction to build her self-esteem by encouraging her to go running, to do the upycling Facebook page, whatever made her happy. Then once lockdown eased and Bella got in touch and it looked like the farm was back on the table, he had a magnificent idea. Jimmy sat forward and let go of Gina's hand, then clasped his together. Expectation written all over his face. He took a deep breath and blurted out his idea. I want us to work together. You and me. I'm going to leave the firm and the two of us are going to start our own business. Morgan Architectural. Something like that. You can decide. You're the arty one. Gina's jaw dropped. Are you serious? Never been more serious in my whole life, apart from our wedding day. Don't you see? It's the perfect solution. We can create the ideal work home life balance. I have my office and if you want, we'll make you one of your own. Split mine in two. Whatever. They're mere details. But what can I do? I'm not an architect. No, but you're a fabulous interior designer. And this is the best bit. I want to build 100% environmentally friendly homes, totally sustainable, zero carbon emissions. We can transform the farmhouse into our flagship property. That, my darling wife, is where you come in. Gina had been rendered speechless. Jimmy, not so. Well, what do you think? Are you in? Me and you partners in every sense of the word. It's going to be epic, Gina. I know it. Combining both our talents and you can ease back into designing at your pace with me by your side. I swear I've never been so fired up about a project in my life. You are totally batshit crazy. You know that, don't you? But yes, I think it's a brilliant idea. And yes, I'm in. One million% in. I bloody love you, Jimmy Morgan. Gina took his face in her hands and kissed him like her life depended on it. When they came up for air, Jimmy took her in his arms, pulling her close as he said the same. "And I love you, Gina Morgan. You bloody lunatic." Another question pinged into her head, just one amongst the millions clamoring for attention in her head. "Was that Babs on the phone last night? I overheard your conversation and presumed it was Bella and went into meltdown. I could only hear your side of the conversation and and you put two and two together again. Honestly, Gina, I still can't get my head around why you Look, there's no point going on about it. But yes, it was Babs. Her battery had run out mid roasting, so she called back later to make sure I'd got the message and wasn't going to let her down. As if. I'm scared to death of her. From the comfort of his embrace, so many things were making sense. Like the saying about eavesdropping for a start. Then a thought. So that's what the sex phones are for. Our new business venture. You do know I'll never be able to look at them and not think that. She could feel Jimmy laughing. Yes, they are for us. It was all part of my big surprise pitch that I prepared

For this weekend, when I presented you with the paperwork for the farm and our his and hers fancy work phones. I just need you to say yes, and then the deal can go ahead. Which reminds me, we need to get going.

Gina heaved herself upwards and faced Jimmy. "Get going? Where?"

"To the Lake District. I booked us a luxury cottage and a fancy restaurant. I thought it would be nice to get away for the weekend while the monsters wreck Mom and Dad's house. I was going to tell you about the plan when we got there in case you went apeshit. Don't want blood all over our very fancy wallpaper. And in the country, nobody will hear you screaming at me. Are you pleased? Say something."

Jimmy had both his thumbs raised and wore a grimace while he waited. Oh, how she loved this man.

"Of course, I'm pleased and excited and happy all at once."

"Well, Ms., in that case, you need to pack. We can talk this all through properly on the drive up." And then he paused. "But there's one more thing that I promised Scary Babs I'd mention."

Gina was about to stand and drag Jimmy upstairs, hoping they'd have time before they left for her to make amends. But instead, she waited.

"Now, don't flip because, against the odds, today is going well." He paused, but noting Gina's "get on with it" look, did just that. "I think we need to have a serious talk about your weight, or more to the point, your eating habits. Everyone's noticed you've lost pounds, and I'll admit, I've been scared to broach it. But Bab said I have to, and if Bab says it, I does it."

Jimmy, as always, had chosen to lighten the mood. Gina could tell her cheeks had flushed and for a second couldn't look at Jimmy, so focused on her fingers that were twisted into a knot. But the day was turning into one about truths, and she had to be Robin brave and Babs honest. Looking up, she met his eyes that held nothing but concern.

"I do it when I feel like everything is going wrong and getting out of control. It's my safety mechanism because taking charge of at least one thing in my life makes me feel stronger. It helps me cope. That's the only way I can explain it. But at the same time, it makes me feel ashamed and weak and terrible because I know it isn't healthy and I am letting you all down. It never gets totally out of control because usually things buck up, like now. Do you understand?"

He took both of her knotted hands in his. "I understand why you do it. Yes. But I think it's time you got to the bottom of why you started acting this way because I have a feeling it's rooted in the past. I'm not going to ask you to make any promises today, but I am going to ask you to think about going to see someone, just for a chat. Will you do that?"

And as much as she had the urge to yank her hands away and scream, "No, tell him she didn't need a shrink or counseling," a tiny part of her did. She was weary of fighting off the demon inside that fed on her memories, then fed on her. Enough was enough.

"You're right. And yes, I will go and see someone. I don't need to think about it. So, I promise I have to get it out of my system once and for all, whatever it is."

His smile could always light up a room. And Gina felt the warmth of Jimmy's like it was a sunny day right there in their lounge.

"Oh, thank God for that. I can now report back to Sergeant Major Babs that I have completed her mission and she won't need to beat me to a pulp. And for the record, I'm so proud of you, Gina, for saying those words out loud. And if you want me to come with you, anything, I will. All I want to do right now is pack and get away for a few days and make up for lost time. So, let's save talking for in the car. Come on."

Gina stood and pulled him upwards. "When do we have to leave?"

He checked his watch. "In the next hour. I thought we'd stop on the way for a bite to eat."

He was interrupted by a finger to his lips. "Good. We have time, then. I want to show you how sorry I am for doubting you."

Jimmy's eyes widened and without waiting to be asked twice, led Gina from the room. As they made their way upstairs, he stopped and turned. A wicked smile preceded a question.

"Do you think we'll need the saxophones?"

To which he received a slap from Gina. "No, Jimmy, we do not need the bloody sex. Now get up those stairs."

And as they headed to their bedroom, happy tears clouded the way. But Gina didn't care. She was safe with Jimmy holding her hand, staying by her side. And for once, instead of it all going wrong, it was all so perfectly right.

Chapter 46. Robin.

Leaves swirled around Robin's feet as she made her way to Martha's headstone. She was checking for signs that the village teenagers had been up to their shenanigans. It was the same every year around Halloween when they couldn't resist the lure of the graveyard and scaring themselves to death once it was dark. She was alone on her quest, saved for a chap and his little dog who were picking their way between the rows, his head bowed, oblivious to her presence. She'd seen him many times before, but always left him to his thoughts, and that day she was oddly glad he had his canine friend for company. Everyone needs someone, she thought as she continued on her solitary way.

In past Halloween ferays, Robin had found skeleton and werewolf masks on the angel statues, no doubt some kind of dare, empty WKD bottles, no doubt for courage. She didn't begrudge them their spooky fun, as long as they didn't damage anything. Hence why she was checking Martha's resting place. Her unspoken duty of care to a woman she'd never met.

The other reason she'd nipped out was to avoid Nate, who'd turned up unexpectedly. He'd been ominous by his absence all week, skulking in late at night and back out again first thing, blanching at her death ray stare, skipping breakfast in his haste to escape. Whether it was his guilty conscience or he'd sensed a change in her attitude towards him, she had no clue. But it had been enough to postpone the showdown. She'd heard Nate rustling around in his room while she kept vigil in Willow's. Since she had found out about Edmund's mind games, Robin had kept her promise and prevented him from entering Willow's bedroom. There had been no arguments, only a look of disdain before he turned, following her instruction to get out.

It was unusual, though, for Nate to be home during the day on a Saturday. He was usually at the gym, also, he said. However, seeing as he deigned to spend time with Willow, Robin took the opportunity to get fresh air and see Martha. As she wound her way through the leaves and graves, Robin wondered if, when she returned, it would be an opportune time to grasp the nettle and have it out with him. She hated confrontation, but she hated sleeping next to Edmund more.

Having reached the headstone, she put Nate to the back of her mind and leaned against the wall. It was far too soggy and damp to sit, and she could feel a chill rising up through her Wellington boots. Digging her hands inside her overcoat that flapped in the wind, Robin said hello to Martha, speaking softly, lest her words be carried on the wind and heard by the chap tending his wife's grave.

Just like all those who came to pay their respects, or so she imagined, Robin told her eternally sleeping friend her news about Nate, Babs, and Pete, and the text she'd received the day before from Gina. "I'm so pleased for her. In my heart, I was sure that Jimmy would never betray her. And I can't tell you how her words lifted me because there are some nice men left. And if anyone deserves one, it's Gina. They're off to the lakes for a few days, and when she gets back, she's got lots of exciting news to tell me and Willow. Very mysterious, I must say. But all's well, and that's the main thing. Things aren't so good with Babs, though, and I haven't heard from her since Tuesday. I think she might have had a bit of a hangover after our get-together, as she did give it some well. I'll drop her a line later, check she's okay. It seems to me she's made up her mind about Pete, and I do feel sad for him. But at the same time, I can't imagine having that conversation. Can you? Saying you're leaving and ending a relationship? I just wouldn't have the bottle. Yes. Yes. I'm such a coward. You don't have to remind me of that. If only how many times I've thought those words, and now look at me. Mrs. Coward Custard. Nate hasn't any such qualms. And once I've had a word with him, he'll be gone. And you know what else I've realized? He won't even have to have the goodbye, 'I'm leaving you' conversation with Willow. For one, I won't allow him to upset her. And two, she probably wouldn't take it in. I never know what she absorbs, but this one thing she certainly doesn't need to know. Oh, Martha, there's something else worse than the Nate business. Gina told me something terrible the other day. Something I have never been able to say out loud or admit to anyone other than you because the words are too cruel and cold and horrible. I already knew, though, deep down, that Willow wants to take her own life. She's tried it a few times. I think I've told you. Maybe not. She sees it as the way to 'mayor'. Or she would had Edmund not reminded her what happens to people who take that path. I hate him so much. So badly that there aren't enough adjectives in the dictionary to adequately describe it. Does he not see that she's trapped and tormented? So desperate and sad. And, okay, I do accept that his cruelty is actually keeping her safe, but at the expense of her sanity and well-being. And I know that man so well to also understand that anything he does or says is for his own ends. He simply couldn't bear the shame of having a child commit such an act. It would offend him deeply, his morals and beliefs. So, he takes control in order not to fail. In my opinion, he failed as a father to Willow and Chris many years ago. But you know all about that. You've been here for me through thick and thin. How I wish you could talk to me, Martha. There are so many things I want to ask you. One thing in particular because despite my secret faith where I still trust in God to know the truth would be a blessed relief. It really would. Where are you now, dear friend? Are you happy walking on fields of green under a blue cloudless sky? Are you with your boy and your husband? I always picture you holding hands and the three of you laughing in the sun. I hope that's where you are. Where our dear sweet 'mayor' is in the care of my parents until we all meet again. I have to believe that, otherwise all of those prayers, all that trust in someone I cannot see, only feel, will have been for nothing. One thing I do know without a doubt is that the pain you suffered in loss, all the hours you waited on that bench by the duck pond, the tears you cried in the dark, ended when you left this mortal world. Was it a blessed relief? I truly hope it was. So many questions, not enough answers. All I can do is focus my energy on facts. And one, the most important, is that my daughter needs me more than ever, and I won't fail her. People think I am her rod and staff, when in fact she is mine, my reason to get out of bed in the morning. And dear Arty, of course, who I keep at arm's length, so he leadeth me not into temptation on a regular basis, who stands patiently in the wings, the understudy, waiting for a chance he may never get. I've often thought I should set him free, but that man is as stubborn as a mule. And I fear if I tried to, he'd come storming over here and make a terrible scene. I hate scenes, so try to avoid one. Anyway, we've come this far in our dysfunctional affair, hiding our feelings, living our separate lives, grabbing the most treasured moments. So, it would be silly, cruel to stop now. He's given me space to be, to love and care for my children, and never asked more from me than I'm prepared to give. That's why I adore him because he is my saint, my knight. His light and shade entrances me, thrills me, and simply knowing he is there would actually be enough. I think of Arty as my fearless rebel. Yet in some ways, he is my meek slave, a slave to our love, and for my sins, I hold the key to his chains."

The sound of the little dog barking at its owner rudely interrupted Robin and Martha's one-sided chat. Checking her watch, she sighed. 2 p.m. She needed to get back in case Nate buggered off out again. Now he'd done his bit. It was this thought and her irritation at his fickle fakery that made her decide. It was high time she put a stop to such nonsense. She should follow Babs's lead and make a reverse stand of sorts and give Nate his marching orders. Otherwise, she'd be following Gina's path, turning a blind eye.

Of course, there was still a chance that Nate would astound them all and rubbish the rumors, be affronted by the accusation, then pledge his undying dedication to Willow. Resisting the urge to laugh or look for flying pigs and spotting the man and his dog approaching, she bade a silent farewell to Martha and pushed away from the wall, then followed the well-worn path towards the church. Ducking her head against the wind, she pointed herself in the direction of the vicarage.

Minutes later, seeing that Edmund's car was still on the drive next to Nate's, she tutted, sighed, and gritted her teeth in irritation. Still determined, despite the full house and captive audience that awaited, she sucked in a lungful of Cheshire air and strode purposefully on. Sights set on the vicarage door. Mind set on a showdown.

Chapter 47.

Edmund and Nate were seated at the kitchen table, talking in low voices which silenced when she entered the room, straightening her hair that was tangled from the wind. Robin ignored both of them and headed for the kettle until Edmund halted her.

"There's tea in the pot if you'd like some." He pointed to the table where, lo and behold, there stood the teapot wearing its knitted cozy and in her usual place an empty mug. Bridling at the imperious way he had of indicating where one should sit, Robin followed his direction, unease washing over her. Edmund's next comment added to it further.

"Nate and I would like a word."

Pulling out her chair and sitting, Robin rested her arms on the table and folded her hands together, then waited, glancing at Nate, who wore a sheepish expression. Ha! He's been caught out. Good. Edmund thinks he's going to shock me with a sinful revelation, but who cares? He can tell him to go. Save me a job. Edmund, never want to hold back or miss an opportunity to be lead dog. Launch straight in.

"It's about Willow."

Robin's stomach lurched and Mother Bear's claws came straight out. "What about Willow?" She looked from one to the other, trying to second-guess what came next.

"Nate and I have been discussing her current state, and it's clear that she's not making any progress. In fact, it's two steps forward, three back."

I disagree, but she wasn't given the chance to state her case because Edmund took over. "Robin, you must listen to what we have to say because it's obvious to both of us that your judgment is severely clouded by your prevalent maternal instinct, and quite frankly, we feel you're hindering her treatment and recovery."

Her whole body began to tremble. "How dare you? If it wasn't for me, Willow would be left to the mercy of carers who popped in twice a day, and what good would that do her?"

Nate remained mute. Edmund closed his eyes briefly as though irritated by an insolent child, then continued. "She needs continuous and dedicated psychiatric care and evaluation, and she's not getting that here. Willow requires supervision so she won't harm herself and access to professionals who can monitor her and offer her therapy on a day-to-day basis. She's surviving on the occasional visit from the district nurses and the on-call team when she has one of her episodes."

"Oh dear God, no. This cannot be happening." Her mouth had gone dry and a thousand drums were beating in Robin's ears, so loud she almost couldn't hear what Nate was saying. Her head turned to face him while her eyes watched his moving lips.

"You're not being fair on her, Robin. I know you love her and want to do the best by her, but this isn't the way. There are so many new treatments and therapies on offer, and she's missing out. Don't you see that?"

The eruption when it came made the teapot rattle as Robin banged her fist on the table, her words hot lava on her tongue. "Liar. Hypocrite. That's what you are, Nate. Oh, I see everything. I really do. So, don't you dare try and play me for a fool or place the blame on me when this is merely your way out of your marriage." Her hand trembled as she pointed a finger almost in his face. "I know all about your affair with that woman called Josie that you've been carrying on with one of your colleagues. So won't it be convenient if Willow is shuffled off to hospital? Then you can get on with your sordid little affair."

Her head swiveled, her eyes burning with hate as she looked at Edmund, and for a second relished having one over on him. "So, how do you feel, Reverend Dearest, knowing your son-in-law has been unfaithful to your sick daughter, and you're playing right into his grubby hands?"

Edmund sighed and shook his head. "Nate has already confessed to me, and whilst I do not condone his behavior in any way, I see it as a separate issue to that of Willow's mental health. The facts remain the same. Our daughter requires specialist care and we are going to see that she gets it."

Robin was rendered catatonic by rage and shock. He was giving her an ultimatum. They had decided taking her out of the equation like she was surplus to requirements.

"Speak for God's sake. Say something. Anything to stop this. And where the hell do you think you're taking her? To that dreadful place she was last time at the general. You didn't even visit her, Edmund, but I did. And it's it's truly awful. Understaffed and rundown. So, what makes you think the NHS are going to provide the care she needs when they're already on their last legs?" Robin was nauseous even thinking about the place where the staff did their best, but no better than her. She was sure of it.

Edmund made a clicking sound with his teeth, like a pin being pulled from a grenade. And in a way, his answer was just that, a bombshell.

"Willow won't be going there. They're short of beds, and the waiting list is too long, so I will be paying for her care. Nate and I found a private clinic in Darbashir that can take her almost immediately. It's been arranged. She's going on Monday."

Robin had to grip the table and press her feet into the floor in an attempt to remain conscious. Her voice, when it escaped, was a mere whisper. "Monday. You're taking her away on Monday. But that's only two days."

And then from somewhere within, Mother Bear found her roar. "No, no, no, no. I won't allow it. I'll fight you all the way. You won't take her. I mean it. You will not take my child."

"Robin, stop." Edmund's voice boomed around the kitchen, bouncing off the walls, making Robin wince. "Nate is Willow's next of kin, and he's signed the paperwork, and if you put up a fight, I will back him all the way. I'm quite sure the authorities will take the word of a respected teacher and a man of the cloth husband and father who only have Willow's best interests at heart over that of an overprotective, exhausted, emotionally frail mother who is putting her own wants before that of her child. You won't win, Robin. So give up now."

She looked to Nate, but he had his head in his hands. "Nate, look at me. You owe me that at least. Robin watched as he slowly met her eyes. You do see what he's doing, don't you? Because the minute you admitted your affair, you gave him the ammunition he needed to punish me for rejecting him. Can't you see that? This isn't about Willow. It's about him taking control." She glanced at Edmund and gave him a look, scathing and disgusted, like she'd tasted something repulsive. Robin couldn't bear to look at him for one second longer, then return to Nate. "He thinks by taking Willow out of the equation, he's onto a winner. He can't lose. He's a sick, twisted narcissist who would sacrifice his daughter to make me come to heel. And if I don't, he will happily watch me suffer. Dear God, Nate, don't you understand?"

Nate's eyes were wide, like he was actually seeing things her way. There was a glimmer of hope. "I'm sorry, Robin. I truly am. But regardless of what you suspect his motives are, I think Edmund is right. Willow needs proper help. And and I can't go on living a half-life. And you will hate me for that. But it's true. I lost my baby, too. And now I've lost my wife, and I grieve for them both more than you know. But I deserve a chance of happiness."

The glimmer had been extinguished, and in its place, a void, deep black, like despair. Robin was astounded. "You deserve Nate. Have you heard yourself? We've all suffered and we've all grieved. I lost my beautiful granddaughter that day. I was there. I saw it all. Remember, lived through every second and still do when I can't fight the memories. But do I complain? I've sworn to dedicate my life to Willow because it's my job, mine. And you can't take it from me. You have no right."

"He has every right, Robin. And you've just demonstrated why you're not in the correct frame of mind to care for Willow. Because it's clear you're suffering from post-traumatic stress of some kind. You admitted it only seconds ago. You're transferring the trauma of the day and projecting it onto Willow, seeing it as your duty to care for her when in fact you're using her as a crutch."

Robin stood, her body leaning in Edmund's direction as she screamed. "And when did you become a [ __ ] psychiatrist?" Whether it was the high-pitched accusation or the profanity that caused Edmund to recoil and Nate to gasp, she didn't care and turned her attention to her disappointing son-in-law. Knowing she had to get a grip and not fuel Edmund's ridiculous hypothesis, Robin lowered her voice.

"Nate, please don't listen to a word he says because he's brainwashing you like he tried to with Willow and Chris. But you're not a child like they were, or a silly, naive young wife like I was, who didn't realize what she was getting herself into. Think for yourself, Nate. I beg you."

Nate's eyes flicked to Edmund, but his lips remained closed. Robin tried again. "Why didn't you come to me? We've always got along well, and I thought we had a good enough relationship. You could have talked to me about how you were feeling. If you'd been honest, told me you were unhappy. We could have worked something out. We still can. If you want to walk away and start a new life, then go. But please don't send Willow to a strange place. Please, I beg you." She was about to break down. Her voice cracked and she was struggling to breathe, let alone speak, but forced out the words. "Don't take my baby away from me."

27 minutes had passed since Robin had collapsed in a heap at the table, unable to speak, allowing the tears to flow while her body was racked with sobs so intense they made her rib cage hurt. Nate had brought her tissues and a glass of water, and through it all she was aware of Edmund to her left, still in his seat, the fingers of his right hand drumming on the tabletop. When her tears ceased, she kept her face hidden in her arms that were folded beneath her, resting on the cool pine. She could hear the constant thrumming transmitted through the wood. It was Edmund's way of showing impatience, yet strangely, it had the opposite effect and soothed her, like a baby listening to its mother's heartbeat. It gave her time to think.

By the time she raised her head to face Nate, she had realized one thing and decided on another. They weren't going to change their mind, no matter how much she begged. And she would never look Edmund in the eye again. All she could do was ask for time. Time with Willow before they took her away, but before that, give it one more try.

"I'll ask you again. Please leave Willow with me and just walk away. It really is that simple, Nate."

When he answered, he had the decency to look sincere, but the steel in his voice made his feelings clear. "I'm sorry, Robin. I can't. You might think I'm doing this for purely selfish reasons, but I assure you that's not the case. You'll be able to visit her, and it's a lovely place. Edmund and I were there this morning, and once you see it, I'm sure you'll agree. I'm so grateful to Edmund for offering to pay the fees because it's taken a weight off my mind."

"Well, that's okay then, as long as you're fine and dandy, we'll all just jog on like nothing's happened, shall we?" When she spoke, Robin couldn't hide her sarcasm. "Yes, I'm sure Edmund couldn't wait to get his checkbook out and spend some of the fortune his mommy and daddy left him. It's a pity he's never fancied sharing it with charity. You know, doing good in the Lord's name for the poor and needy of the world, but hey ho, such is life living with a devout hypocrite."

Nate bowed his head, and Robin hoped shame had just kicked him in the gut. "If you won't change your mind, will you allow me one wish? It's easy enough to grant, seeing as you'll have other things to be getting on with."

She received a nod of the head. "Ask away."

"Let me have the rest of the weekend with Willow alone, just the two of us. I don't want Edmund anywhere near her. I would also prefer it if you kept well out of my way and in the meantime make alternative living arrangements. I don't want you here any longer than necessary. I take it you'll be going with Willow to the whatever they call the place you're locking her up in." Robin couldn't bring herself to say the word "home" because as far as she was concerned, it was a prison. "And don't think for one second that I'll take her. I'm not having her think I betrayed her because she will. If you do this, you do it yourself."

Surprisingly, Nate didn't even consult Edmund before he answered. "That's fine. I'll make myself scarce. But would you pack her things? You'll know what she needs better than me." Then, after he had the grace to blush at his request, he confirmed arrangements. "And yes, I'm going to take her. I won't come back afterwards."

"I think that's for the best. But if you change your mind and want to..." Robin raised her palm. "I won't."

Nate nodded. Then his focus turned to Edmund. "Edmund, please respect Robin's wishes for the next two days and give her space and time with Willow. The last thing we want is any more upset."

She didn't see Edmund's response, and in the absence of a verbal objection, presumed he'd agreed with a nod. Then, without another word, Robin rose from her seat and left the room, her wellies slip-slapping on the tiles. Like her, they were muted as they made their way up the stairs. Her only thought was Willow and being with her. From that moment on, the clock was ticking, counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until they took her precious child away.

Chapter 48. Babs.

"This is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Don't let anyone tell you leaving is easy because it isn't. It's agony. This is my home. A place of safety that saw us through all the saddest and happiest times. And its walls have wrapped themselves around me from the day we moved in. I know every stick of furniture, each knick-knack and plate, where I bought them, and probably when, if I set my mind to it. I built my nest here and looked after my chicks one by one, imagining how they would grow and the people they would become once they fledged. And I have to laugh at the irony of that thought because they're all still here. My big daft chicks still haven't buggered off. Maybe once again, Mummy Bird needs to show them the way. And I will. I've been lying here on the sofa, listening to the dawn chorus outside as I went over it all one more time in my head, planning what I'm going to say to Pete and the kids. I'm scared they'll cry or get angry. I've settled on angry because Milo aren't really criers. Pete especially, unless his team goes down a league and then it's a different matter. I've tried to salve my conscience with the fact that I'm not deserting three babes in nappies. And that I've got them all to a stage in their lives where they have the tools and moral compass to navigate the road ahead. That said, our Isaac might need a nudge from Fiona. And I'm starting to think our Sasha is welded to her bed, her laptop, and her earbuds, but at least she's working. It's the perfect job, sitting down and talking all day, albeit to customers about car insurance. All in all, I think they'll be fine. Demi especially. She's got a head screwed on, and I truly think that her spirit and common sense have helped me these past few months. Yesterday's at Mom's more than ever. It's Pete that I worry about the most. He could go either way. Vegetate in front of the telly feeling sorry for himself and drive everyone nuts, or just be Pete doing all the things Pete loves to do. You never know. He might even book that holiday with the gang and have himself a holiday romance. How would I feel about that? I honestly don't know until it happens. But I do want him to be happy and for us to stay friends. It might be a big ask, but we'll see.

Last night, while Pete was down the pub and the kids were watching Goggle Box downstairs, I felt so sly gathering my toiletries and makeup, hiding them in the drawer, secretly putting my shoes in a carrier bag and folding my getaway clothes in a pile, ready to take from the wardrobe later. Then I did a big online shop so they'll have everything they need for the week ahead. I got them loads of treats and all their favorites. Comfort food, I suppose, seeing as I won't be here to give them any. It'll arrive later this afternoon. You know what would have been easier? A bloody big row. Like the other day in the car. I missed a trick there because I should have stormed home, dragged my suitcase from the loft, and thrown in whatever came to hand. Then I'd have stomped off to Mom's, booked a flight, and buggered off. The anger would have fueled me on, got me onto the plane at least. But I can feel myself wavering, overthinking things, and that's not helpful. Being organized, giving the house a thorough going over while they all slept through the early hours, preparing a text to my client saying that for the foreseeable, they're cleanerless. Trying to do my best for them before I do my worst has kind of made it harder. But I can't go back now. I have to do this.

The other thing that's bugging me is what will people say when word gets around the Willows that I've left Pete? They all know down the co-op and at the church that lot of god botherers are a right bunch of gossips and will love this. Now I know how Debbie, Gina's mom, must have felt having the whole village talking about her, and they did. Me included. Karma is going to come and bite me on the bum for that. I reckon that's one of the reasons why I rang Jimmy because as much as I love the bones off Gina, she's a dither and something had to give. It's bad enough that everyone knows about the vicar and Debbie. And there were more rumors that he was a bit touchy-feely with some of the WI ladies, the dirty dog. Who knows who he's been having a dabble with over the years? And poor Robin never knew. And neither does Gina. I didn't want her to be gossiped about behind her back. One way or another, she had to be put out of her misery. I didn't actually intend to spill the beans about Bella. Just give Jimmy a hint and a nudge that Gina was struggling and getting herself into a state, but he more or less ground me down for information. Then I blabbed. He was going to go home and have it out with her, but when he said he'd booked a weekend away, I suggested he left it till the little ones were at their grands. I hate it when kitties are upset and a few more hours wouldn't make much difference. All's well that ends well, though. They both texted me to say they'd sorted it out and thanked me for my help. I have to say, I sighed with relief when I read it, knowing neither of them were cross with me. Not like Pete. He's not spoken to me since our row in the car. He said my behavior was embarrassing and he thinks I'm unhinged, so I told him to get stuffed, or words to that effect, and I've slept on the sofa since. Oh my, I can hear movement overhead. I've got terrible butterflies, but Demi promised to be with me when I tell everyone. I feel so guilty that my daughter is, in some ways, an accessory to my departure. I've told her not to take sides and be kind and supportive to her dad when I've gone. She's promised she will, and I'm glad because I don't want their relationship affected. This is between me and Pete. Here they come. Baby elephants. Time to face the music. It's weird because the minute my feet touch the floor, it will begin. The day I change my life and that of my kids and Pete forever. I can't put it off anymore. Duvet off. Slippers on. Big girl pants hitched up. I'm ready. It's now or never."

Chapter 49.

Pete had gone out in a huff. The pillock. He'd waited till Babs went into the shower, then hot-footed it downstairs, telling Sasha he was going to Calvin's to help him take down his garden shed, and would be gone all day. His absence had scuppered her well-rehearsed plan, and he was ignoring her calls and texts that basically said, "Come home now. We need to talk today, and it's urgent." That was almost 2 hours ago, and still nothing. Still, it had given her time to put all her stuff in her wheelie case that was standing at the bottom of the stairs. She'd left it there on purpose, hoping the sight of it would be a conversation starter rather than launching straight into, "Just wanted to let you know I'm leaving." Her passport and travel documents were in her bag, and all she needed to do was tell Pete and the kids. Easier said than done.

Checking the clock on the mantelpiece, Babs saw she was running out of time and patience. A tight band of anxiety began to pull at her chest, and her breathing became more rapid. She had to do something, otherwise she'd snap, the tension and expectation of hours of thinking was getting to her, which was why she stood and marched into the hall. Calling out, her voice making it quite clear she wasn't in the best of moods.

"Isaac, Fiona, Sasha, Demi, will you come down here right now? I need to speak to you all. And I mean now."

They looked like the three wise monkeys lined up on the sofa. Sasha, Isaac, and Fiona, who Babs had included in her summons because, well, she was family, too. Demi had taken one of the armchairs, leaving Pete's free in case he bothered to show up. None of them had commented on the shiny black case in the hall. So maybe they weren't so wise after all. Or they just didn't care. Babs was standing in front of the fireplace, her heart hammering, but after an encouraging smile from Demi, followed by an almost imperceptible nod, she got on with it.

"I was hoping your dad would be here, too, but he disappeared before I got a chance to speak to him in private, and he's ignoring my text, so I'll tell you instead." She swallowed, took a breath, then got it over with. "It probably won't come as a shock to you, but me and your dad haven't been getting on for a while now, so I've decided to go away for a while. Put some space between us. Nobody spoke. I'm going to stay with Tom and Chris for a while."

And Sasha piped up. "Is that your case then in the hall? I just presumed Demi was going somewhere."

"No, it's me that's going. And why don't you take Dad? A holiday will do you both good. You can sort out whatever's bugging the pair of you." Like father, like son. Isaac obviously thought that two weeks away was the cure-all.

Babs suddenly felt weary, so she perched on the edge of Pete's chair and tried to explain. "Isaac, I don't think a holiday is going to fix me and your dad. And that's the other thing I want to tell you. I'm not just going on holiday. I'm leaving. I'm leaving your dad."

Isaac leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. "What you mean, as in splitting up? But why does Dad know?"

"No, because he shot out this morning and like I said, I wanted to tell him alone and in private, but if he can't be bothered coming back, then then I'll just go. But what about us? That means you're leaving us as well. You can't just go, Mom. And another thing, how long have you been planning this?" Sasha's tone was accusatory.

Babs had expected questions like this. "I haven't been planning it as such, but I've been very unhappy for a long while. And over the last few weeks, lots of things have made me realize I can't do it any longer. But as for leaving you, I'll always be your mom, Sasha, no matter where I live. And let's face it, you and Isaac are adults now, and it's about time you both stood on your own two feet. You wouldn't think twice about moving out and leaving me if you met someone, would you?"

Sasha folded her arms in a huff. "Oh, charming. Just turn it around on us. Like we're at fault, too, not just Dad."

"No, I'm not saying anything of the sort. Look, you both have jobs. Isaac and Fiona are expecting a baby, and maybe this will be a turning point for all of us."

Isaac butted in. "Well, our Demi isn't an adult, so what's your excuse there?"

Babs went to answer, but Demi got there first. "Demi is actually in the room, and Demi is fine with Mom going. She deserves a chance to be happy, however, or wherever that is, and I support her 100%, just like I'll support Dad, too. But not actually from this house, because I'm leaving as well."

There was a unified "What?" from Sasha and Isaac, the latter taking the lead. "What do you mean? Are you going with Mom?"

Demi shook her head. "Of course not. I've got college. I'm moving in with Graham for a while because this place is doing my flaming head in. It's too noisy and I never get any privacy or peace to study, and he's got two spare rooms. I've thought about it a few times, but I didn't want to suggest it in case it upset Mom. But now she's going. I am too."

Isaac huffed. "Well, I don't know what you were worried about her for when she's clearly not bothered about you or us."

"Zach, don't talk to your mom like that." Fiona had turned pink, but looked furious. "Right, that's it. I'm ringing Dad." This is getting ridiculous. Isaac pulled his phone from his back pocket and jabbed the screen in temper.

Babs watched and sighed, not wanting to hear what her son said to his father, so stood and left the room, heading for the kitchen. Demi stormed upstairs, shouting that if Isaac was going to be a knobhead, she was moving out straight away and going to pack. Babs was followed by Fiona.

"Would you like me to make you a drink?"

Babs, pulling out a chair, declined. "Thanks, love, but no, I'm okay. I'm sorry about what Isaac said. And for the record, I think it's really courageous what you're doing. And I hope you find happiness. I really do. Even though I'll be sad to see you go. I know it's been a pain me being here, but even through lockdown, I loved being part of your family and around you. I wish I'd said so before."

Such an unexpected remark set Babs off, and her lip wobbled as she sought composure. "Oh, love. Thank you. And I wish I'd said that I think you're a lovely young lady and our Isaac is lucky to have you." She gave Fiona a warm smile and received one in return. "And I promise I'll be a good grandma when the little one comes along. I want to be a big part of their life. I really do. Actually, I wanted to have a chat with you for a few days, clear things up, but I didn't think it was the right time, seeing as you and Isaac were upset with me over the babysitting thing."

She saw Fiona go to speak, but halted her, desperate to put things right. "I swear it was nothing personal. Please believe that. It was more about what's been going on up here." She tapped the side of her forehead than anything.

Fiona was leaning against the worktop. "It's okay. I get it. I really do. It was wrong of us to presume. I see that now, even if Isaac doesn't." Babs could tell Fiona meant it, and suddenly wished she could turn the clock back and put a bit more effort into getting to know her properly. They'd wasted time, and the fact she'd been under the same roof caused a rush of sadness. So Babs decided to make amends in a positive way.

"Fiona, I want to give you a bit of advice, and whether you take it or not is up to you. I love Isaac dearly, but you're going to need to be tough if you don't want to end up a carbon copy of me because him and his dad are peas in a pod. I've made lots of mistakes, and with hindsight, I'd have done things differently. I can try to help you, though. Be a friend and a mother-in-law." Babs paused. Fiona said nothing, her eyes wide. "I've realized there are many different ways to be a mother. And the bad ones aside, because there are lots of those about, there's no easy answer to how we do things." She paused as Sasha left the lounge and headed upstairs, probably to talk Demi out of leaving. Isaac would be sulking. Picking up where she left off, she tried to put her heart into words. "The bond between a mother and a child is unique. But while we do our very best, we forget that so are we. So please, when baby comes along, in between being super mom, every once in a while, step back and remember yourself." Fiona nodded. "Make your own rule book. Use bad examples for good. Don't conform or think you have to be like anyone else or make everyone happy. Start with yourself. The best example, the best role model for your baby will be to see a content, fulfilled mom. And if you need any advice or just want to chat, ring me anytime. I might not have the answers, but I am a good listener. And even though I've left it till now to say it, I love you to bits."

The sound of the front door opening and slamming, then voices. Isaac and Pete muttering in the lounge caused Babs to stand, and within seconds, Fiona was by her side, giving her a rushed hug and a whispered message. "And I think you're amazing, and I love you to bits, too." Their embrace was soon interrupted by Pete, ashen-faced and short of breath.

"Babs, what the hell is going on? Isaac says you're leaving." Fiona scurried from the room and closed the door behind her. This was it. The big reveal like on telly when you finally get to see what Allan's done with the garden or the house looks like on Grand Designs or what the celebrity has.

cobbled together on Master Chef. But this was more like, "Pete, feast your eyes on this. The rest of your life, minus me." Yes, that's right. I'm going to stay with Tom.

"Well, I must say that's charming, seeing as your point-blank refused to go anywhere with me." Pete was pacing, circumnavigating the table until he reached Babs. Then he turned and went back the other way, like he'd met a rabid dog on his journey. Babs was fast losing grip on her temper, and time was ticking.

"That's because, and this will sound harsh, but I don't know how to say it any other way. I don't want to go on holiday with you, Pete. Now or ever. Do you understand? I've had enough of us and I'm leaving. And if and when I decide to come back, I won't be coming back here."

His mouth dropped open, then clamped shut, then opened again. "But, but where will you stay? I don't get it. I thought this was just a tiff and we'd sort it out like we always do."

"No, Pete, it's not. And I'm sorry. I truly am. But it's over. I can't think of any other way to say it than that. If you want to talk, you can ring me. But I've been waiting for you all morning and I need to go."

There, she'd done it.

"What do you mean? It's over, Abs. What the hell is wrong with you? Is it your menopause sending you do bloody lily? Because if it is, you need to whack some more of that jelly on. In fact, use the whole tube if it brings you to your senses."

The moment of calm after she'd said the words was replaced by a rush of anger, but rather than react to it, she used it as rocket fuel to eject her out of the building. Marching down the hall, Pete hot on her heels, she went to grab her handbag from the top of her case, but he beat her to it, and before she could react, he'd pulled out the wallet containing her passport and documents before turning and racing up the stairs. She'd never seen him move so fast. As she screamed at him to give them back, he screamed louder, telling her she was going nowhere. The last sound she heard was the bathroom door slamming. The last sound he heard was Babs doing the same with the front door.

Bridey was furious. Babs was in tears. Pete wasn't answering his phone to Bridey, who was going to give him a piece of her mind. Babs couldn't believe he'd taken her things. On the drive to her mom's, the wheelie case on the back seat jiggled about like a giddy child, asking, "Are we there yet?" Babs told the case that thanks to Knobhead Pete, it looked like they weren't going anywhere fast. Her plan was ruined. The taxi from her mom's was booked and she needed to check in at the airport.

"Don't worry, love. He'll calm down and we'll sort you out another flight. In fact, no. I'm going round there to give him what for and get your stuff back. Sod this for a game of soldiers." Bridey marched into the hall to get her coat when the doorbell rang. And when she opened it, Demi and Fiona were on the step.

In Demi's hands was Babs's folder. "Is Mom okay? I talked some sense into Dad and Fiona drove me round."

Babs appeared in the hallway, wiping her eyes, but the sight of Demi and Fiona set her off again. Demi gave Babs a hug. "Mom, stop this. It's all okay here." Demi passed the folder, "But you need to get going or you'll miss your flight. Do you want Fiona to drive you to the airport?"

"No, no, it's fine. The taxi is due soon and I want to do this next bit by myself. And if you come, I'll just get upset. I know I will." That was how Babs had imagined it as she'd lain in bed the night before. The next stage in her journey had to be solo. If she could do this, she could do anything.

The wheelie case was in the boot of the taxi, and the driver was raring to go. Bridey smoothed Babs's hair from her face like she did when she was little, then gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Now, you be brave, young lady, and whatever comes next, we can sort it out step by step. Okay? Just remember how proud I am of you and that all I want is for you to be happy."

Fiona stepped forward. "Have a safe trip, Babs. I'll text you all the time, and I promise I won't forget your advice." She planted a kiss on Babs, then made way for Demi. "Right. No more tears, Marty Pants. We'll be fine here, so don't be worrying about a thing. Get a drink in the bar and on the plane. In fact, get wasted and give Uncle Tom something to worry about when he picks you up." Demi wrapped her arms around Babs, who could only nod into the embrace as she listened to a whispered message. "I love you so much. You're the best mom in the world forever. So, please go make memories and have fun. I'll see you soon. Now, go."

Babs did as she was told and was about to go when she remembered. Fishing out her car keys, she passed them to Demi. "Here for you. Look after it while I'm away. Gran's going to sort you some driving lessons, and as soon as you pass, you'll be able to use it." Demi bit her lip, took the keys, and nodded.

Without another word, Babs got into the cab and shut the door. As the driver pulled away, she turned. Her heart was aching for those she was leaving behind, while her head warned her not to chicken out. Before the car rounded the bend, she blew one last kiss to three wonderful women, Bridey, Demi, and Fiona, still standing on the pavement, waving goodbye.

Chapter 50. Robin.

"Oh, my beautiful girl. Look at her. Oblivious, floating on a sea of nothingness. Caressed by the soft fuzz of chemicals that swim through her blood. I often watch her while she sleeps. It brings me comfort to see her this way. Selfish, I know, but when her eyes are closed, I don't see the pain reflected in them. Her tears don't flow, and I don't have to mop them up."

The thing is, we both need respite. And I tell myself as I coax her into taking her medication that I'm no different to those mothers like me who thanked heaven for Calpol. If only it were as simple as a fever. A bad cold that two teaspoons of red liquid would soothe so we could all sleep.

How many hours I've sat in this chair in her bedroom. The wallpaper is tatty, peeling here and there. The peonies that were once vibrant now faded. The paintwork is scuffed and yellowed, while the oak wardrobe with the wobbly hinge and the chest of drawers with a missing knob stand like centurions guarding their ward. Willow was always scared of the tree outside her window whose branches tap on the glass in the wind. And no matter how often the gardener cut it away, eventually it grew back to haunt her. How many times have I raced along the landing, burst into the room, and folded her in my arms, telling her it will be all right? I never thought that in adulthood I'd do the same. Spend nights lying by her side. Me in this chair and the battered cushion I lean against have seen her through the worst of times: teething and tummy bugs, teenage tantrums and angst, breakups, pre-exam and pre-wedding nerves. Yes, these four walls have witnessed it all, but nothing like what we've been through since we lost Mayor.

Yet here, no matter what, the two of us are safe. We are able, in the midst of storms of the mind, which strike often, to find peace. This room is our sanctuary, away from Edmund and Nate, where we fight the good fight. And most of the time, the devils and demons are banished.

I wish you could have seen Willow before. When my darling girl was so full of life and fun and love, a delight. That's what she was. The best big sister to Chris. The best best friend to Gina. The best daughter I could have wished for. And now the disease of the mind that eats away at my precious child is out of control. Rampaging, cruel, and irreverent. The devil is winning. I'm waging war on two fronts: with the prince of darkness and my husband, and I suppose Nate too. And muddying the water further is the irrefutable fact that Edmund is to blame for where we are now. And he is the root cause. I truly believe this. He changed the course of Willow's life. Turned her away from the priesthood and towards teaching. She followed another path and met Nate. Then, just when life seemed perfect, when Willow had found her truest vocation, motherhood, it was all snatched away in the blink of an eye. And the screech of tires. The devil took his prize. But he won't take another. He won't take her away from me. To that place where they say they'll care for her, but nobody can look after Willow better than me. She's my child, not theirs. And who will be there when she cries out in the night? And who will comfort her? She'll be confused, scared, and want me, her mom. And that is why I can't let the devil win.

And now I have worked it all out. It's what Martha has been trying to tell me all along and why I was so drawn to her and her story. She's the clue. I know what I need to do. I have to set Willow free. I can make my child happy. Let her be with Mayor guilt-free. I will let Arty go. Cheat the devil and punish Edmund all at the same time. It's been there, staring me in the face for so long. And with my back against the wall, I was able to see it clearly. The solution is so obvious. Being a confirmed sinner made it easier. I gave into lust and I broke a commandment when I committed adultery. I doubt that being a good girl where the others are concerned will save me. So, what have I to lose? All I have to do is commit one final sin: wrath, and break one final commandment. Thou shalt not kill. Edmund deserves to be punished. And the best way to do that is to take away control and beat him at the game he's been playing for years. Arty has been my prisoner for too long and deserves a life without me in it. Not to be sat in life's waiting room, hoping I'll be on the next train. Willow wants to be with Mayor, but is trapped in a hell on earth, too scared to find the exit by herself. So, I will show her the way. It will be the ultimate sacrifice, a gift of love and understanding from a mother to her child. And best of all, I only have to sacrifice one thing: me.

Chapter 51.

The clinking of milk bottles was accompanied by Bobby's whistling as he made his delivery, followed by footsteps on the gravel, and the familiar whirring of the electric engine on his cart as it faded into the distance. Sunday morning had broken in all its autumnal glory, and Robin mused that if one was going to go, it might as well be on a fine October day while the sun shone. The window was ajar, allowing in a fresh breeze, the curtains open to give her a view of the sunrise. She shifted slightly, pulled the blanket further up her body, and readjusted the cushion behind her back that ached from sleeping in the armchair. Robin didn't mind, though. The pain was worth it to keep Edmund from Willow's room. Her sentry-like presence was a warning should he dare to disobey her wishes. Perhaps the dull throb in her spine was also her penance, a precursor for what she might expect once she'd committed the greatest sin of all. Still, she'd been through it all one more time to make sure she was doing the right thing. Gone right back to the beginning, taking great pleasure and experiencing intense pain, remembering the most significant parts of her life, the insignificant ones, too. They all made up the whole of what she hoped had been a worthwhile journey. The high point was giving life to her two children and holding their hands for a while as she guided them through the world. Even though she'd had to let go, the part she'd always dreaded, Robin hoped she still held a special place in their hearts. In fact, she was sure her children loved her, and that was all the reward she ever needed: to be in receipt of a smile, a hug, their love.

Robin's eyes were drawn to Willow, who'd slept soundly through the night, not waking when the owl outside hooted to its mate, or when the dawn chorus of little birds heralded a new day. While Robin listened to the sounds of Little Bington waking, and Joe zooming off on his motorbike, regular as clockwork, she tried to identify each bird as it sang its song, remembering the poster on the wall at school. But the time for pleasant enterprise was over, and she had things to do once Edmund left for church. He would be gone all day, thank goodness: a christening first, and then he was off to Macclesfield to take a service for one of his holidaying vicar friends. She had no idea who, and cared not, only that he would be out of the way. Just like Nate, who was going to see his parents in Manchester, no doubt to tell them his news, and how once he'd shuffled his poorly wife off to the mental hospital, he'd be shacking up with his fancy woman, or more genteel words to that effect. Whatever. He wouldn't be back until late that night, by which time it would be all over. Once she moved from the armchair, that was it. It would begin. Robin would solve everyone's problems once and for all. It was time.

Robin turned and looked around the kitchen. She'd brought in the milk, bread, and juice that Bobby had delivered because she hated waste, and the sight of them on the step may have alerted an observant passerby. There could be no deviations or interruptions caused by visitors or kindly souls. The flowers that Gina had brought on the day of their get-together were wilting, but might last a day or so. They'd received a reprieve and remained on the windowsill. Her next thoughts were for her friends and their recent change in circumstance. Robin was glad they were out of the way, and that she'd not had to face or speak to either of them prior to her decision. It had made it all a little easier. And she was so glad that before she went, she'd heard their news and had smiled, picturing them both. Gina was with Jimmy, planning some new adventure, and Babs had texted from the airport lounge, two gins down, and about to start a Spanish adventure of her own. The goodbye letters were in Robin's handbag, one for Gina, larger than the rest, because it contained those destined for Chris, Arty, and Babs: explanations for her actions and apologies for not letting them say goodbye to Willow. Robin had entrusted Gina with her very last words: letters of sorrow, thanks, absolution, and eternal love to good friends, her son, and the man she was setting free. Robin didn't trust Edmund, and had said so in her very succinct message that would leave him in no doubt of her everlasting damnation of his soul. Her words to Nate were somewhat conciliatory, and in a reserved way, she wished him well. Not wanting to dwell or have time to wish for things that weren't meant to be. Not for her, anyway. Robin moved on. She had charted the day meticulously and would walk through it, grateful for the sensation of being wrapped in a day, a blanket of warmth that cushioned her from the reality of her actions. It was somewhat like being in a dream, albeit one where she could choose the outcome or wake. Robin opted for neither.

Opening the old larder door that was used nowadays as a utility cupboard, she moved the wicker trunk and from behind pulled out an ironically named bag for life that contained Willow's medications. Not wanting a repeat of the day she opened the lot onto her bed and began eating them like Smarties, Robin had made sure she'd never find them again. The two-month supply was everything they needed to sedate and calm a troubled mind and soul. The very thing that would send her and Willow into a peaceful and dreamless sleep. Taking them back to the worktop beside the sink, Robin emptied the packets onto the marble. After fetching two glasses from the cupboard, straws from the drawer, and the bottle of raspberry pop from the fridge, she set them next to the packets. Sliding the pestle and mortar towards her, Robin began.

Willow was sleeping when Robin entered the room and set the two glasses of fizzy pink onto the bedside table. Outside, the bells of St. Mary's rang as worshippers flocked to a longer than usual morning service where a christening would be taking place. As Robin sat on the bed and waited for Willow to stir, the irony of the moment wasn't lost. While the Lord was welcoming a new soul into the arms of the church, she was going to send one up to heaven. A busy day for the big man and his angels. The smile on her lips quickly faded as Robin forbade herself to think where she would end up. And even if the pearly gates were padlocked shut, she was resigned to her fate. No going back. As the thought left Robin's mind, and the grip of fear eased a touch, a gust of wind from the open window caused the curtains to flutter slightly, a draft of cold whipping around the room. The tiny bell chimes that hung from Willow's lamp tinkled, and her eyes opened a touch, then closed again. Robin had no desire to alarm Willow, and as the distant strains of organ music reached her ears, and the church service began with a hymn she knew so well, another sprang to mind. It was Willow's favorite as a child, and one Robin often sang to her at night before she went to sleep. Stroking Willow's head, as she'd done back then, Robin softly sang the words to her own little bird.

"Little bird, I have heard. What a merry song you sing. Soaring high to the sky, on your tiny wing. Jesus's little ones are we. And he loves us, you and me, as we share in his care. Happy we must be."

Willow woke just as Robin stopped singing. "Good morning, sleepy head." She reached over and took Willow's hand in hers and watched as she yawned and stretched, rubbing tired eyes. "I was having such a lovely dream. I didn't want to wake up." Willow roused and pushed herself upwards. Her pale face a picture of eagerness. Unusual for early morning. Unusual for Willow.

Robin leant across and took one of the drinks from the side. Her movement steady. Her body now on remote control. "That's nice, darling. But here, drink this. It's special. From the health food shop. A mixture of vitamins. And the nice lady said I could put in your favorite drink. Look, I have one, too." The time for worrying about lies was gone, as Robin pointed, then passed Willow the glass. Sometimes she refused to eat or drink, and sometimes didn't have the energy or strength to hold a spoon, but she took the fizzy mixture with ease. Holding the glass in two hands, Willow leaned forward and rested it on her knees. "Let me tell you about my dream. It was so vivid." Willow stirred the drink with the straw, eyes wide and innocent as she waited for Robin to answer. "Go on then, but drink your drink. It's good for you." Willow nodded and put the straw to her lips, but instead of sipping, lowered the glass and related the dream. "I was in the most beautiful garden. Oh, Mom, you should have seen it. The grass was so green. It was like emeralds, velvety and soft, and I could feel it under my feet." With that, still holding the glass with one hand, Willow pulled back the covers with the other and checked her soles, rubbing them with her fingers. A bemused look on her face. "It was so real. I swear I felt the grass and the dew."

Robin pulled the covers back over Willow's legs, wanting to keep her warm while she chatted on, becoming more animated by the second. "And the angels were there singing and dancing around me, holding my hands." Again, Willow checked, looking at her palm this time, turning it over as if remembering a touch. "And they were excited about something." She looked up and around the room, searching for a memory, and when it came, her face lit up. "I know. I know where we were."

Robin had to ask, becoming swept along by one of Willow's rare moments of complete lucidity. "Where, Lord? We were in a garden in Lord's and the church bells were ringing and the angels were singing because they were happy and they were telling me something too. One of them whispered in my ear." Willow touched her lobe. "I can feel it just there where her lips touch me. Soft and gentle. I know I can. But I can't hear what she said." Willow closed her eyes as if in meditation and with her free hand stirred her drink, then went to take a sip. Robin watched as her own heart almost stopped as the straw touched Willow's lips. But again, something halted her. Willow looked like she was tuning in, listening to words on a radio that only she could hear. "Love, drink your drink. There's a good girl." Willow had responded and took a sip, then grimaced and spat into the sleeve of her pajama top. "Oh, that's horrible." Lowering the glass, her lips began moving again. Her eyes misted over. Then she spoke softly, full of awe as she turned her gaze to Robin. "Mom, almost a whisper. I remember what she said."

Robin had the strangest feeling. Her arms were prickled by goosebumps and she felt odd, as though her resolve was being drained away, while a question rushed from her lips unbidden. "Who? What did she say?"

Willow's olive eyes had turned the deepest pools of green. "My angel. She said, 'We have to go to Lord's because, because that's where I'll find the answer.'" Robin held in a gasp, caught it in her chest as Willow continued. "'I knew they would help me. I knew they'd hear my prayers and find the answer.' Oh, Mom, can you believe it? Can you believe it?"

Robin couldn't. She also couldn't move. Not at first, because a wave of something ice-cold washed through her veins. But the second it was banished, it was replaced with heat. The most overwhelming rush of warmth, like her whole body was basking in the light of an indescribably beautiful moment. Her hands trembled, as did her voice when she finally made her lips move. "Yes, my love. I believe."

But as she said the words, Willow lifted the glass and placed the straw to her lips. And Robin panicked. Grabbing the drink resulted in a startled look from Willow, who recovered and asked a question. "Mom, can we go to see Uncle Arty in Lord's? Can we? Mom, please say yes. That's where the angels told me to go. It's where I'll find Mayor. I can feel it right here." Willow touched her chest. "They said, 'I'll be happy there.' So that must be what they mean."

Without warning, Willow pushed the covers back and leapt from the bed, while with trembling hands, Robin removed the other glass from the bedside table, watching as Willow grabbed the white box of ashes from her dresser and clutched it to her chest. Willow didn't say a word. Instead, she waited, her stance firm, eyes boring holes into Robin. The room was warm. The sun shone brightly through the windows, casting silver streaks onto Willow, radiant, surrounded by a halo of light.

"Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I need to get rid of this nasty pop. And while I'm gone, perhaps you could get dressed. I'll be back very soon. Go on, get your clothes out." Robin saw Willow nod, and a huge smile spread across her face. Robin's legs were like jelly, but she turned quickly and ran into the bathroom, then tipped both drinks into the toilet and flushed the chain before racing downstairs. In the kitchen, she dumped the glasses in the sink and went to her bag, hands shaking uncontrollably as she grabbed her phone and prodded the screen. "Please be there. Please answer. Hurry up. Please be..."

"Hello. Well, I must say this is a very nice surprise. And what can I do for my favorite person on this fine Sunday morning?"

"Arty, shut up and ask me." Robin heard her voice crack as her heart pumped so hard she thought it might burst.

"Ask you what, Robin? What's wrong? I don't understand. Has something happened?"

"Ask me the question you said you never would. Ask me now, Arty. You have to ask me right now." The silence was deafening, apart from her short, shallow breaths that she desperately needed in order to stay alive and upright. Finally, Arty spoke, his voice deep, choked with emotion that she heard clearly across the many miles that had separated them for so long.

"Robin, will you leave him? Will you come and live with me?"

"Yes. Yes, I will." She was crying and when she heard his next words, Robin suspected so was he.

"When? When will you leave?"

She smiled through her tears and wiped them away, laughing as she answered. "Now, my love. Me and Willow are leaving right now."

Lords, France. 2 years later.

Today, we are blessed with a cloudless sky and a flaming June sun. It warms my arms and face while I sit out of sight watching Willow. It's something I do often because seeing her laughing carefree and as she is now, playing barefoot on the grass of the convent, reminds me of how lucky I am and how close I came to making a terrible mistake. It plagues me, you know, that day. I have recurring dreams about it. Even the moment right up to driving away from the vicarage, the car loaded with our possessions. We didn't have much, really, just our clothes and treasures, like photo albums and Willow's precious angel books. In my dreams, Edmund comes home as I'm loading our cases and bits and bobs into the boot and stops us from leaving. In reality, it went very smoothly. Although those final few yards from the doorstep to the car, as I hurried Willow along, almost shoving her in the front seat and racing around to mine, seemed to take an age, not seconds. I did stop, though, for a second when we reached the road and looked up at the graveyard to where Martha is. I imagined her standing there on the hill waving me off, her voice clear in my head. "Off you go, girl. Be happy, mate. We'll meet again one day." I hope we do. I drove to do. There, we caught the next ferry to France. I should have been exhausted after hardly any sleep in a four-hour drive, but adrenaline and fear kept me going. I must have checked the rear mirror a thousand times, expecting the devil to be on our tail. I relaxed somewhat when we arrived in France, and we took our time driving south to Lord's, where Arty was waiting. He'd offered to come and get us, but it would have taken too long, and I wanted to be gone. And you know what the strange thing is? That from the minute we arrived at his house, our house now, it felt like home. Like it had been waiting for us.

From then on, Arty took control, which was a relief. He phoned Nate to tell him where we were, and after the bomb went up and the dust settled, we've been able to work things out. I swear there's not a useful person that Arty doesn't know, either here or in the UK, and the old school tie network has been invaluable. The very slow cogs of law turned, and now the authorities in England are eventually satisfied that Willow's legal affairs are in good hands. She and Nate can divorce. He got what he wanted in the end, and so did I. My daughter.

Talking of which, Edmund kind of got what he deserved when the bishop decided in his infinite wisdom that it was time for a new broom at St. Mary's and shuffled Edmund off to a dusty office at Diocese headquarters. I like to think of it as dull and depressing, a place where he also shuffles paper day in day out. By all accounts, and much to my glee, a female vicar and her young family are now in residence and have brought much-needed life back to St. Mary's and the village. I haven't spoken to Edmund since the day we argued at the kitchen table. I doubt I ever will. I don't know if he suspects Arty and me of being together, now or in the past; that his arrogance presumes his brother is merely providing safe haven. In truth, I really don't care what Edmund thinks anymore.

Chris, of course, is deliriously happy that me and his sister are here on the same continent as him, and he's visited us many times. He knows the truth and hasn't batted an eyelid. In fact, he said he's always suspected Arty was in love with me and admitted that in another world, he'd have happily swapped dads. No surprise there. Which brings me to Gina and Babs. Gina and Jimmy are well into developing the young farm, and she's loving life, both professionally and personally, with a new baby on the way, plus a host of new clients she fits between motherhood and mood boards. Gina forgave me instantly for whisking Willow away once she understood Nate's plans. She facetimed us regularly, keeping her best friends forever promise like I knew she would. And Granny Babs, where should I begin? In a nutshell, her family are fine, and in between easyJetting back and forth whenever the fancy takes her, she works with Tom and Chris running their cruise boat business. She's so very happy and lives in an apartment overlooking the beach bought by Moneybags Bridey, who had a big win on the lottery. Babs is a wonderful granny and adores her grandson, Erling, named after a footballer. Apparently, she's even been to visit her old school friend, Linda. Demi is settling into university and goes to see her mom during the holidays, as do Sasha and Isaac, who miraculously got over the shock of their mother leaving. Even Pete managed to survive and according to Babs, is dating a woman he met at a pool match. See, life really does go on, even when none of us could ever imagine changing the one we had. I'm proof of that.

And what about my Willow? Well, as I said, Arty arranged everything. Unlike Edmund, who was prepared to use the bank of Mum and Dad to incarcerate her, Arty used his inheritance to do the opposite. He found a wonderful doctor, Professor Barrera, who has taken her under his wing. They've made magnificent progress using a combination of new treatments, for example, sending magnetic impulses to the brain. The change in her is remarkable, and it's given us all hope for the future. Willow leads a much more independent life now, still living with us, but by day she is here at the convent. It's part of the hospital where she works as a volunteer helping the sisters, a nursing order of nuns. Willow helps in the garden or in the kitchen and is a favorite with the little ones. That's what she's doing now, playing catch with the children from the ward, running barefoot on the grass, just like she did in her dream. She takes great comfort from being around the sisters. The nuns have infinite patience and seem to radiate something: signals of love, kindness, whatever. Willow receives them loud and clear. She also loves to sit in church and listen to the incantations and prayers, finding great peace in her surroundings and amongst those she calls angels here on earth. Who am I to doubt that? She's thriving, and that's all I care about. Perhaps she will convert. And if she does, I will support her because I've always known her place is beside the God she believes in. Imagine Edmund's face if he found out his child had become a Catholic.

And me? I keep my faith deep inside. I'll always have my demons, but with Arty to fight them off, I think I'll be okay. Nobody, apart from him, will ever know what I planned to do that day at the vicarage. I tore the letters up and threw them into the channel as we crossed on the ferry. But when we got here, I had to tell Arty the truth. I couldn't start a new life with the man I love without him knowing who I was. It would have eaten me alive keeping that secret, and I would have understood if he'd been so appalled he turned against me. But he didn't. Arty is adamant that it was a result of deep trauma. And it does make sense because ever since Mayor died, I'd put Willow first and I'd not properly mourned her loss. I refused counseling, put my grief to one side, and bottled it up. I focused on Willow instead, and when faced with having another precious child taken away, the shock and fear of losing Willow pushed me over the edge. Caring for Willow had kept me going. That innate mother's love that places their child before them muffled the scream in my head when I remembered the day we lost Mayor. When Edmund and Nate said they were taking Willow away, the void opened and I was once again bereft, before the event, after the event, and it was too much. The balance of my mind drove me to act that way. Nothing else. Yes, I was prepared to sacrifice my life to help Willow and pay the ultimate price a mother can for their child: an act born from love, not malice, and certainly not evil. And when I worry that God will punish me for the thoughts I had that day, for the thing I almost did, I remember that the angels came just at the right time. Perhaps they didn't just come to save Willow. Maybe they came to save me as well.

Did Willow simply wake from a vivid dream? Or was it her angel? I suppose I will never know. Or maybe one day I will. What I do know is this, that the love a mother has for her child is infinite. And the sacrifices we make, the wrong turns and mistakes, the good days and the bad are all part of the things we do for love. There's no right or wrong way to be a mother. We learn on the job. And that terrible day when I almost got it very wrong, it somehow turned out right. My beautiful Willow was trapped inside her head, locked in a cage, no escape in sight. But just look at her now, smiling in the sun, laughing. The days of torment are behind her. The future looks bright because in the end, and perhaps with the help of the angels, I found a way. I set her free. My little bird.

The end.

Acknowledgements.

Dear reader, thank you for choosing my book and I hope you enjoyed it. I loved writing it for you, and the hours I spent with Gina, Babs, and Robin were some of the happiest creative moments. So involved was I in their lives. Oh, Gina. She caused me such heartache while I wrote her part. Because Gina is loosely based on someone whose story hasn't always been happy or easy, but who was determined and hardworking, who held their head up and against the odds has made a success of their life. She brought love and pride into the lives of others. A beautiful woman who deserves only the best, to be happy. At the core of her story was a simple message: Don't let the past or the actions of others ruin your future or define who you are.

And being a woman of a certain age, I have also faced the same challenge as Babs. It's a tricky subject. And while it has a detrimental effect on the lives of so many women across the world, I tried to balance the serious nature of the menopause with a touch of humor. Sometimes it's the only thing that gets us through. Babs represents the ladies I know well who have shared their troubles and those who suffer in silence. I hope that Babs' story might encourage anyone who is struggling to reach out and find a hand to hold.

The subject of faith is a topic I've wanted to explore in my writing for a while. I feel lucky to be comforted by my spiritual beliefs. Thankful, too. Religion has always fascinated me and was one of my favorite lessons at school. Yet, it can be such a contradiction. Something that brings great joy and contentment to many can also be the cause of confusion, conflict, and pain. Hence, Robin's story. And of course, dear sweet Willow, who had to have a happier ending and hope for a future thanks to her friends, the angels.

The common denominators that bound them, brought together their individual stories, was friendship. And on a deeper level, a question that perhaps many people have asked themselves at some point in their lives, whether it's in relation to a child, a parent, a sibling, a friend, a lover, a spouse: What would you do for love?

Throughout the story, as always, I have left little treasures: memories of my parents, things they said, essences of my childhood, a kitchen table, special grandma teas, good dads, favorite hymns, and Blue Peter appeals. Hints and clues, thoughts and thumbprints, bits of my life, the dark and the light, my demons now vanquished. By writing these things down, they remind me. I know they are not lost. They are too precious. Like words, life, family, love.

It's time to say thank you. And I want to begin with the marvelous team at Blood Hound Books: Betsy and Fred, Tara and Abby, Chloe and Kate. I love working with you all. To Linda Czechley aka Cheeky Checkers, who very kindly donated to the Blood Hound Books Ukrainian Refugee Appeal by bidding on my prize bundle and won the dubious honor of being a character in a book. Linda, I hope you're happy in your villa in Spain. At least I didn't kill you.

And finally, to my own very special treasures, my family. Brian, Owen, and Jess, Amy, Mark, and Harry, Albi, and Elvis. I love you. It's as simple as that. Kiss.

This is Sarah Cullum. We hope you have enjoyed A Good Mother. Text copyright 2023. Patricia Dixon. This audiobook is published by arrangement with Bloodhound Books Limited through Rights People London. Audio production copyright 2023 by B Audio Limited. This program was produced by B Audio Limited. All rights reserved. This is Sarah Cullum. We hope you have enjoyed A Good Mother. Text copyright 2023 Patricia Dixon. This audiobook is published by arrangement with Bloodhound Books Limited through Rights People London. Audio production copyright 2023 by Scribed Audio. This program was produced by B Audio Limited. All rights reserved.