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‘Though we’re hoping to move back soon.’
    ‘Oh. Don’t you like it there?’ Tom asked.
    ‘We like it well enough. It just feels like the right time to come home.’
    Tom nodded. ‘Are you going to move close to your sister?’
    ‘I ruddy hope not!’ Hannah laughed.
    ‘Thank you for that,’ Gina grinned.
    ‘We’re only coming back because Mum found out that Dad was shagging his secretary,’ Jess said.
    ‘Jess!’ Gina yelped. ‘TMI!’
    ‘Oh Mum, PLEASE do not say TMI again.’
    ‘Shagging his secretary. Classy…’ Tom said.
    Gina smiled. ‘I know. He could have been a bit more creative.’
    Tom turned to Hannah. ‘And is there a Mr Hannah?’
    She felt the blush rise to her cheeks. Damn it, why did she have to do that? He was making polite conversation, not asking her to go to bed. Stupid brain. The problem was that she was beginning to think she’d rather like it if he asked her to bed. What the hell was wrong with her? Hadn’t she already learned her lessons about men a thousand times over? ‘No Mr Hannah,’ she replied, trying desperately to think about sprouts and carrots and not forgetting to put the bins out after Boxing Day instead of Tom’s dark eyes now regarding her quizzically, and his full lips, and the dimple in his chin that was really only noticeable when he smiled. ‘Not now.’
    ‘Not the secretary?’ he asked, a trace of humour in his expression.
    ‘Fitness trainer,’ Hannah said.
    Tom’s eyes became wide. ‘Seriously? Oh God, I am so sorry! What an insensitive joke!’
    Hannah smiled. And then she grinned as she looked across at Gina, and then they both burst out laughing. ‘What a pair of sad walking clichés we are!’ Hannah cried.
    ‘The secretary and the fitness instructor,’ Gina giggled. ‘Jeez, all we need is to put curlers in the front of our hair and wield rolling pins at the front door and we’d be characters out of a seventies’ sit-com.’
    Tom looked confused about whether he was supposed to be laughing along, or had in fact induced some hysterical breakdown in the two women.
    ‘Don’t worry, Tom,’ Gina said, wiping her eyes, ‘it’s not your fault. I think we were both so busy feeling sorry for ourselves that we never quite realised how funny it is.’
    ‘I am so sorry,’ Tom replied, ‘I’m always getting told to think before I say things.’
    ‘You are?’ Gina asked. ‘Who tells you that?’
    Tom screwed up his face for a moment. ‘I don’t know. I just seem to recall that I put my foot in it a lot.’
    ‘I can’t imagine that,’ Hannah said. ‘You seem considerate and thoughtful to me.’
    Tom shrugged, as if he couldn’t offer any more explanation than that and it was pointless trying to. Hannah’s heart went out to him. His situation must be torture, and he was putting such a brave face on things. She was sure she’d be going crazy with worry had she been in his shoes, but he was keeping a lid on it, only seeming to be concerned with not distressing those around him. He quietly went back to chopping a pile of freshly-washed carrots, while Gina shot Hannah a pained look.
    ‘You really haven’t upset us,’ Hannah said.
    ‘It’s just…’ Tom’s sentence faded to nothing.
    ‘I think it’s only natural that you feel a little at sea right now,’ Hannah added. ‘Perhaps you ought to rest after all?’
    ‘No…’ he looked up and forced a smile for her. ‘Please… let me help. I’ll go out of my mind if I sit dwelling on things.’ He let out a sigh. ‘I can’t tell you how stupid I feel. I mean, more than anything else I just feel like a complete muppet. Who the hell goes out with no wallet, no phone, no ID of any kind? People don’t do that nowadays, do they? I’ve made a nuisance of myself to everyone – to you, to whoever is looking for me, to the emergency services…’
    ‘Not the last one.’ Gina folded her arms. ‘They’ve not exactly rushed out, have they?’
    ‘Maybe there’s a problem on the