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“You barely raised me at all! My schoolteachers and the household staff raised me.”

Gregory sidled a little closer to my mother and dropped his voice, but not enough so I couldn’t hear. “I’ve got an excellent colleague in the psychiatry department. I could get him to squeeze in an appointment on an emergency basis if that would help?”

“I don’t need a bloody psychiatrist.”

“You’re in denial,” Mother said, slurring slightly. “This is precisely why you need a psychic...psycho...psychiatrist.”

“I’ve had enough of this. I’m leaving.”

I didn’t know where I was going to go, but one thing was certain—I couldn’t be around my mother or puppet-boy a moment longer. Furious, I stormed towards the door. Mother took a few wobbly steps in my direction, but the reflection in the mirror on the wall showed Gregory putting a hand on her arm.

“Best to leave her today. I’ll give Mervyn a call in the morning.”

Sod that. I wouldn’t be sticking around to get sectioned or whatever else they had planned for me. If they thought for one second that their ridiculous idea would get me to bend to their wishes, they had another think coming.

“Didn’t go well, I take it?” Emmy said as I stomped into the kitchen.

“You were right about one thing—Gregory isn’t the friend I thought he was.”

“Shoot, I’m sorry. You’ve had a tough time of it lately.”

“Yes, well, it doesn’t look like things will be improving any time soon. Dorothy, could you help me pack?”

“You’re going somewhere, ma’am?”

“Somewhere. Anywhere. As long as I’m not stuck in this house with Satan’s Stepford wife I don’t really care.”

I’d charge a hotel room to my credit card, and Father could fight over it with his accountant later.

Emmy followed as I led the way upstairs. “If it helps, I’ve got a spare room you’re welcome to borrow.”

Gosh, how kind, but I’d feel terrible about imposing. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Honestly, it’s no trouble. It might be a bit dusty—I can’t remember the last time anybody stayed in there.”

“Only if you’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I won’t be around all the time, though.” She made a face. “Work.”

“In that case, thank you. I’ll just grab a few things.”

Half an hour later, Emmy programmed her number into my phone, then helped me to lift two of my suitcases into the boot of my car and a third into the backseat. Dorothy didn’t understand the concept of packing light, and I couldn’t bring myself to go into the annex and direct her. The evening’s events had left me drained, and all I wanted to do was curl up under a duvet with a good book. Not a romance. My heart hurt enough without reading about someone else’s happiness. Travel books were out too. Non-fiction, possibly.

“Got everything?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll drive slowly so you can keep up. If you get lost, flash your lights or call me.”

* * *

An hour and a quarter later, the adrenalin had worn off, and I gulped back tears as I turned right into the undercroft car park of a smart-looking apartment building in Camden. Emmy reversed neatly into a space near the entrance and pointed at the one next to it. Parking had never been my strong suit, but I managed to get between the lines on only my third attempt. Then I realised I couldn’t get the door open wide enough to get my suitcase out of the backseat and burst into tears.

Emmy knocked on the window. “Don’t worry; I’ll sort it.”

I stumbled out, wishing like crazy that I had her poise and fortitude. Instead, it was all I could do not to trip over my own feet as I wheeled a suitcase behind her into the building.

“We’re on the third floor.”

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