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home being fought over? A home you’d lived in for almost eighty years? Evie was telling the truth – she couldn’t imagine how Mavis felt. And she didn’t much want to try.
    ‘Ah, that’s not the half of it, my love,’ Mavis said. Her face, usually so bright, so upbeat, was pensive. Evie reached out and stroked her arm. Mavis shook her head slightly and smiled. But not before Evie had seen a sadness in her eyes that tore at her heart.
    ‘Come on, then,’ Mavis said, slapping Evie on the back. ‘What are we doing hanging around out here? It’s bloody freezing, my girl. Let’s get in and have that cup of tea.’

Chapter 5
    Evie sat on the single bed in her grandparents’ spare room and looked at her phone. On a whim, she’d left a note for Michael at the hotel reception that morning. She still couldn’t understand why he’d rushed off so suddenly. Maybe he’d got cold feet after offering her a lift and felt awkward. Or maybe he’d seen someone he had to talk to, but didn’t want to have to explain. And why should he, after all? They’d known each other less than a day, had spent an evening together, not by any means alone, and had shared … what, exactly? A few anecdotes, some fragments of history. A meal, a few laughs. Some cocktails.
    Still, Evie had felt the loss of him the moment he left the restaurant – like that feeling you get when someone rests a hot hand on your leg for a while, then takes it away. She wasted no time grabbing her luggage and checking out. But not before writing him a note. Her phone number, a smiley face, and the words “Call me.”
    She didn’t think for one moment he would. And so far she’d been proved right.
    ‘Evie. Lunch is ready.’
    She got up and smoothed out the quilt – one of her mother’s cast-offs, no doubt. Evie stopped for a moment, resting her hand on the chipped windowsill. She watched a peach-coloured bird eating seeds off a table in the middle of the gardens, and wondered what it had been like for her mother growing up in a place like this. Angela Stone hadn’t wasted any time escaping – as soon as Evie started sixth form she’d packed a bag and answered the call to adventure that had grown over the years from a whisper to a scream. Now she lived in Canada with the man of her dreams, ten acres of land and four golden retrievers. Evie couldn’t blame her, but that didn’t make it any easier to live with.
    Across the path, the door to number eight opened and a woman stepped out, followed by a man wearing overalls. The overalls looked brand new, with creases still in the trousers, and were slightly too big for his frame. The woman handed him a canvas tool bag that also looked new, and touched his arm briefly. As the man walked away, turning right at the end of the path, Evie noticed the expression on the woman’s face. Longing. There was no other word for it. Evie smiled to herself and shook her head. Never had she seen a man so unlikely to produce that level of longing in a woman, but it just went to show – you never could tell.
    Evie ran down the stairs to where her grandparents were waiting, seated around a tiny wooden table in front of the fire.
    ‘We usually eat on our laps,’ Mavis explained, ‘but because you’re here we thought we’d get the table in.’
    Evie sat and pulled in her chair, scraping her knees against the underside of the tabletop. She rubbed her legs, then lifted her hands and looked at them. ‘This table is covered in cobwebs.’
    ‘Oh, is it? Well, that’s probably because it’s been outside all winter.’
    ‘It’s your patio table? Gran, you didn’t have to bring it in for me. I’d be perfectly happy with a tray.’
    ‘I want to do things properly. Frank, didn’t I ask you to give it a clean before you brought it in?’
    Frank mumbled something unintelligible and picked up his fork.
    ‘Frank’s still in a mood about Bob Peacock and his horse,’ Mavis told Evie. ‘Cheer up, you old git,’ she said,