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Today she was going to have to deal with Tony and his determination to interfere in her life. She was inclined to tell him to piss off as soon as he’d had a cup of coffee, but she knew him well enough to realise that would be a waste of breath. For a man so well endowed with empathy, he could be remarkably deaf when it suited him.

At the front door Carol paused, getting her breathing under control, composing herself. Then she squared her shoulders and marched inside. Two dozen steps brought her to the door of the separate section where she lived. Without knocking, she walked in. It was, after all, her home. Not his.

The room was empty. Tony’s jacket was slung over her office chair; the annexe was warm and cosy, thanks to the ground source heat pumps that Michael had installed when the barn had been renovated the first time. Carol carried on past the bathroom and into the kitchen, where Tony stood frowning at her coffee machine. Hearing her approach, he turned round and smiled apologetically. ‘I was going to have some coffee ready for you, but I’m not smart enough to figure out how to work this beast.’

‘It’s not that hard,’ she said, unzipping her waxed jacket and tossing it over a chair. ‘Move over, I’ll sort it.’

That was when she saw the array of empty bottles on the draining board. For a moment, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. Then she rounded on him. ‘What the fuck?’

‘It’s a lot easier not to drink if there’s no drink in the house.’

‘How dare you? Who the fuck do you think you are?’

‘I’m the friend who’s here to save you from any more humiliations like last night.’ He spread his hands in a placatory gesture.

Carol was not placated. ‘This is your fantasy, not mine. I never said I was going to stop drinking forever. OK, I gave in to your stupid challenge. I agreed to stay off the sauce till I go to court. But that’s all. Where do you get off, pouring my booze down the sink? Apart from anything else, that’s a couple of hundred quid’s worth down the drain. You may not have noticed, but unlike the drunks you’re comparing me to, I drink premium brands. I drink for the taste, not just to get pissed.’ She shook her head, her mouth a bitter line. ‘You bastard.’

‘I’ll reimburse you,’ he said, mild as milk.

‘It’s not the money, it’s the principle,’ she shouted. ‘You have no right.’

He half-turned away from her. ‘If I don’t, nobody does.’

‘And that’s how I like it.’

He stood up. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Next time you’re in the shit, find someone else to call.’ He swung round to face her again, eyes hard as flint, chin up ready to take the hit. ‘If you can find someone who can be bothered.’

It was below the belt, but that didn’t make it any less true. He’d never spoken to her like this before. Her pride wanted to tell him to fuck off. But her fear wouldn’t let her. ‘Sit the fuck down and stop grandstanding,’ she growled. ‘I’ll make the coffee.’ She turned her back on him and went through the ritual of grinding and tamping and expressing coffee. Surely he wouldn’t walk? And when she turned round, he was still there, hands clutching the chair back so tightly his knuckles were white. Wordlessly, she put the espresso cup on the table near him before processing a second cup for herself.

She took a deep breath. ‘I usually have beans on toast with scrambled eggs. I’ll make some for you too if you want.’ It was the nearest she could come to an apology.

‘That’s fine. You’ve branched out a bit from an orange juice and a granola bar.’

She gave a grim little smile. ‘I learned the hard way. You can’t do a day’s physical work on that.’

Tony sat down and sipped his coffee while she assembled the breakfast with the efficient economy of movement she’d developed since she’d started working on the barn. Everything to hand, a system clearly worked out. No fuss, no mess, no