We can’t afford to rent somewhere else and pay the mortgage on this place. It’ll be okay.’ Rory had no idea yet whether it would be anywhere near okay. But there was a roof, walls, a floor. How bad could it be?

‘There must be somewhere you can stay? I have a spare room in my new flat at Seymour House, but I’m not sure there’s room for both of you.’

Belle twisted her ponytail through her fingers. ‘Dad did say we could stay with him a bit longer.’

Sheila nodded and readjusted her jacket. ‘As much as Scott is not my favourite person right now, that might be a good option. You can stay where you are until this place is habitable.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Rory was not going to be swayed on this. ‘Scott and Megan are about to have a new baby; there’s no way we can stay there. It’s bad enough at the moment, with him moving his stuff back in and all the baby things too.’ Watching the two of them ooh and aah over their baby bath had given her murderous ideas. Scott had not been so interested when Rory had been scraping together the necessary supplies for Belle sixteen years ago. The New Man performance was nauseating.

‘I can’t believe he is just chucking you out like that, after all these years.’ Sheila, almost forgetting where she was, leaned against the wall and then quickly righted herself. She crossed her arms. ‘Particularly Belle. His own daughter.’

‘He didn’t chuck us out, Granny. Did he, Mum?’ Belle was always quick to defend her dad. To be fair, when they’d broken up – nearly fifteen years ago – he’d let Rory and Belle carry on living in his house and he’d been the one to move out. Scott had been a crap husband, but he wasn’t a bad dad.

‘No, he didn’t. They can’t live in that poky little flat with a baby, Mum. The house was always his. He has every right to want to live in it and, as Belle says, he told us we could stay as long as we wanted. I just don’t want to.’ She rubbed Belle’s back. ‘But you can, Belle. He’s your dad.’

Belle shook her head then put it on Rory’s shoulder. ‘No Mum, I want to be with you.’

Sheila sighed and patted her hair. ‘You are as stubborn as your mother, Christabel. You’ve both got Frank’s blood in your veins.’

This from the woman who had moaned that her house was far too large for one person but had taken twelve months of persuading to even look at a retirement apartment.

‘Of course. Dad was the stubborn one, wasn’t he, Mum?’

Sheila poked a damp spot on the wall with her finger then pulled her hand back as if it had bitten her. ‘I just wish I hadn’t sold the house already; you could have stayed there. There was plenty of room. We could have all lived there together.’

Live together? Rory loved her mother dearly, but Sheila was all coasters and regular mealtimes whereas Rory was more toast-on-the-run.

‘It was too far from work and Belle’s college anyway. Thanks for the offer, but we need to have our own home at long last.’ Rory looked around and held out her arms.