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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2019
Copyright © Sue Fortin 2019
Cover design by Cherie Chapman © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover images © iStock.com (stairs and street light); Shutterstock.com (all other images)
Sue Fortin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008294489
Ebook Edition © January 2019 ISBN: 9780008294496
Version: 2018-11-01
Neve looked up from the toast she was buttering as her daughter came into the kitchen. Poppy was living up to the floral element of her name, wearing a kaleidoscope of colours; from her pink and yellow spotty top, to her bright red leggings and white socks.
‘Good morning, Poppy,’ said Neve, smiling fondly at the teenager she’d legally adopted when she had married Kit. ‘You look very colourful today.’
‘You look very colourful today as well,’ said Poppy, mimicking Neve’s Welsh accent. She sat down at the breakfast bar, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her middle finger.
Neve raised her eyebrows slightly, unsure if the middle finger was an intentional gesture on the 14-year-old’s behalf or not. Neve passed over the plate of toast. ‘Jam OK?’
‘You ask me that every day.’
‘One day you might surprise me and say you want marmalade.’
‘Why would I do that? I don’t like marmalade.’
Neve gave a shrug. ‘That’s why it would be a surprise.’
‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Poppy.
‘He’ll be down in a minute.’ As soon as the words left Neve’s mouth, she regretted them. Poppy would now be clock watching and if Kit didn’t arrive within the next sixty seconds, she would be chiding Neve for getting it wrong. Neve went for the distraction tactic.
‘Do you like my new dress?’ she said, stepping out from behind the breakfast bar and performing a theatrical twirl. ‘It’s not quite as bright as your top, but I thought the pale blue was pretty. A bit like the sky today.’
‘I don’t like blue.’
‘Not even this shade of blue?’
‘Dark blue, light blue, green-blue, black-blue. I don’t like any blue.’ Poppy took a bite of her toast.
Neve pulled a mock disappointed face and turned away before Poppy could see the small smile of amusement that was threatening. Neve knew Poppy well enough by now not to take offence at what she said. Poppy didn’t have the same thought filter as others. To Neve, it was just one of Poppy’s characteristics, whereas to others, it was disconcerting, borne out through ignorance and/or lack of empathy. It frustrated Neve to think that some people couldn’t see past this quirk and dismissed Poppy with words like ‘odd’ ‘weird’ and ‘strange’ or phrases like ‘not all there’ and ‘a bit slow’. She busied herself with opening the back door to let their 2-year-old Labrador in. ‘Willow likes my dress, don’t you, girl?’ said Neve, making a fuss of the dog, sending golden dog hairs floating to the floor. Willow had been an unexpected present from Kit two years ago. A fur-baby, as Neve’s friend Lucie had referred to the dog. ‘Your child substitute,’ she’d said, grinning.
It turned out that Lucie had been spot on with her observation, well, in as much as Kit had intended the gesture to reinforce his message to Neve that he had Poppy and when he’d said he didn’t want any more children, he’d meant it. However, Neve hadn’t yet given up hope of changing his mind.