Will she come?
Charlotte sits at the breakfast table, hard-eyed. Scooping up mushrooms and bacon, she eats with a kind of gritty determination.
She's barely spoken to me since yesterday.
"One egg or two, Charlotte?" Pan in hand, I hover by her.
"Two, please." The words are polite but terse.
I return to my spot by the hob, Michael giving me an All-Boys-Together look of sympathy. "It'll come right," he murmurs.
I swipe a hand through my hair. "Christ, but I hope so. This is just a mess."
Bread-knife in hand, he pauses over a loaf, voice low. "Where's everyone else?"
"I asked Mitch, Richard and Beth to make themselves scarce. If there's any unpleasantness, I don't want them caught in the back-blow. Neither do I want any questions over why they are here."
Michael sucks at his teeth, w
