'I warn you, he doesn't know what love is,' I said. 'He's far too selfish. He wouldn't let Zoe express herself. He didn't appreciate her brilliance. He wouldn't even move back to London-though she was desperate to live there again-because his career was more important than her happiness.'

Once again, my companion didn't argue with me. She didn't need to. I knew very well that uprooting the family and returning to London had been out of the question. Zoe's stability became more fragile once her children arrived; she was balanced on a knife-edge. We were keen for her to stay in Yorkshire, close to us.

My phone made its text noise. It was Gilda Grayson.

Scarlet doing well, being stitched now. She wonders if you are talking yet?

'Look.' I held up the message. 'Apparently, Scarlet wants to know if we're talking.'

My companion's lips twitched. 'And what will you tell her?'

Vera chose that moment to barge through the courtroom doors. The clerk seemed pathologically noisy; she was a maelstrom even when walking on soft carpet. 'Judge is thinking of adjourning until two. Wants to know what's happening. What shall I tell him?'

I shut my eyes. I had never felt so tired. Never.

'Tell him we're talking,' I said.

They filed wordlessly into the family court adviser's room, a sparsely furnished space accessed through a keycoded door. The room must have adjoined the court, because its windows looked out towards Dick Turpin's grave.

It struck Joseph that for three people who had gathered with the specific and stated intention of talking, they seemed remarkably tongue-tied. They'd been forced together by the shock of Scarlet's desperation, and by their collective culpability; that didn't mean they'd be able to overcome the bitterness of years.

'She's no dragon,' Rosie had said, after speaking to Hannah.

'Oh yes she is,' protested Joseph. 'On a good day she actually breathes fire.'

'I think she's exhausted. I think she's frightened of losing the children forever, because they're all she has left. Fear makes her defensive. But she's a good, thoughtful woman at heart. I like her.'

Joseph didn't want to think about Hannah. In his mind's eye, he watched Scarlet using a piece of glass to mutilate her young arm. The image horrified him. It was with him still as he followed Hannah and Freddie into Lester's room.

Lester gestured to chairs around a cheap wooden table. He seemed utterly relaxed, as though chairing a meeting of the steering sub-committee on court upholstery. 'Take a seat,' he invited.

Joseph obeyed. Hannah demurred.

'I'd rather stand,' she maintained stiffly. Joseph stole a sideways glance at his mother-in-law. Her chin was haughtily tilted, but he thought he glimpsed vulnerability through the cracks.

'Free country.' Lester sank into a chair. 'Forgive me if I give in to middle age and mild obesity? If I stand for too long, my knees complain. I think Freddie, too, might like to take the weight off his feet.'

Clever, thought Joseph. Lester knew damned well that Freddie would never sit while Hannah was standing. Hannah looked exasperated, but she sat down.

'You're manipulative, Lester,' she huffed. 'Don't think I haven't noticed.'

Freddie didn't sit, however. He took up a post behind his wife with one hand on her shoulder. They looked like Victorian missionaries, highbrow and stiff-collared, posing for a photograph. Joseph sighed inwardly. This was never going to work. It was hopelessly artificial to force himself and the Wildes to gather around a table, especially when all any of them wanted to do was rush away to be with Scarlet.

'Who's going to start us off?' rumbled Lester. 'Joseph? I heard you trying to say something this morning, just as the judge was coming in.'

Joseph stared down at the plywood table. He wondered what scenes it had witnessed over the years; how many men and women had sat around it and hated one another. Or loved one another. Or both. 'I wanted to say a couple of things. First, I . . . No Hannah, don't. Just don't.'

'Don't what?' demanded Hannah.

'Explode. I know you're gearing up to explode. I can feel it. I don't mean sorry as in "I'm sorry I tore your dress," or, "Sorry, I reversed into your car."'

Hannah muffled her explosion and turned to look out of the window.

'It lives with me,' said Joseph. 'It always will. The unforgiveable thing I did. It's driven me half-crazy. I don't know whether you will ever be able to forgive me but I do know that I'll never forgive myself. There isn't a day, there isn't an hour goes by when I don't wish I could put the clock back. It's unbearable. It's . . .' He shook his head, finishing in a whisper. 'Sorry.'

'So you've said,' snapped Hannah.

'I'm not making this application just to upset you.'

'Oh, come on! We weren't born yesterday.'

'I'm really not. I admire you both.'

'Don't bother to pull that humble-boy-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks charm out of your tool box, Scott. It doesn't disarm me.'

'For God's sake! I know you've never liked me, Hannah, but-' 'I tolerated you, until you murdered my child.'

Joseph was losing his cool. 'If you'd been less critical of me and more honest about Zoe's illness, we might not even be here! I needed support from you, desperately needed it, and all I got was endless negativity.'

Hannah had leaped to her feet, face flaming, and was making for the door. 'How dare you! I'm not staying to hear any more abuse from a man I absolutely despise.'

'All right,' said Lester evenly. 'Let's just pause there.'

The protagonists subsided, though their fury didn't. Hannah folded her arms, still standing. Freddie moved close to her; he was blinking at Joseph, trying to speak. When his words arrived, they were slurred.

'Sh'was our . . . light.'

Joseph winced. It took him a moment to find his voice. 'I know, Freddie. I know she was. I'm sorry.'

Frederick clearly wanted to add something, but his thoughts emerged as meaningless strings of vowels. He tried twice, three times, with increasing frustration.

Eventually, Hannah squeezed his arm. 'Shh. All right, I know what you're saying. I'll tell him.' With a visible effort, she turned her head to look straight at Joseph. 'He says . . .' She cleared her throat. 'He says she was your light, too.'

Perhaps it was the generosity of the thought that did it; perhaps it was his father-in-law's grief-stricken dignity. Joseph felt something inside himself give way, some last barrier of pride and anger. 'She was,' he whispered. 'Thank you.'

Frederick seemed utterly spent. He limped to a chair and dropped into it, ashen-faced, breathing a little too fast. Hannah followed, watching him anxiously.

'Yes indeed, thank you,' said Lester. He looked around at the three of them, rolling his fingers in an over-to-you gesture. 'Okay. What's clear is that the children want-need-their most important adults to agree upon their future. Scarlet has acted out her emotional pain in the most graphic way this morning. Do you all accept that?'

Hannah and Joseph nodded unhappily.

'So how shall we move forward? Who's prepared to make concessions?'

The question was met by a charged silence. Joseph was battling with himself; he hated to give up now-he knew exactly what Akash's view would be-but he was no longer sure what a good father would do.

Freddie had rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. If he'd been the man he used to be, thought Joseph, he might have steered them all towards some new understanding. The family couldn't function without Freddie.

Lester raised an encouraging eyebrow. 'Any thoughts?'

More silence.

And more.

Suddenly, Joseph made his decision. 'Okay,' he said, holding up his hands. 'Okay, okay. I surrender. Someone's got to. Ending this is all that matters, so I'll drop my application.'

If Lester felt any surprise, he hid it. 'All right. That's progress. Hannah, Frederick, what are your thoughts now?'

Freddie had straightened in his seat. A tear roamed down his thin cheek, and his hand crept out and took Hannah's. He smiled tenderly at her, even as his mind and his muscles battled to form words. She looked into his eyes.

They're still in love, thought Joseph, with a painful jolt of envy. A love affair that's lasted forty years.

When Frederick finally spoke, it was as though there was nobody else in the room but Hannah and himself; nobody else in the universe.

'Let 'em go, my love,' he said.

Thirty-seven.

Scarlet It hurt like billy-o when they injected the local anaesthetic, and I almost swore at the nurse. Once I'd gone numb, having the actual stitches wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected. The main problem was that everyone made a fuss about me cutting myself, and various people came to talk to Miss Grayson. She was brilliant, and swung into full headmistress mode. It was pretty reassuring to have Maggie batting on my side. She was bullying some doctor when I had a text from Hannah: We are on our way.

What's happened? I replied.

There in fifteen mins xx Sure enough, it wasn't long before she and Gramps came hurrying through the main doors, looking all around the department with worried faces. When she spotted us, Hannah left Gramps behind, charging across to throw her arms around me and stand there rocking. She'd hardly ever done that before; Gramps, yes-he's an old softie-but Hannah generally uses words more than touch. It started me blubbing again. I felt as though I'd turned on the tears tap in the lab that morning, and it was stuck in the on position. Gramps followed her with one of his bear hugs. He didn't even try to speak. I realised he was crying too, though very quietly and without many tears.

Miss Grayson spent a few minutes putting Hannah in the picture, and handed over the papers the hospital had given us. She said they'd write to my own doctor, and we needed to go and see him. Hannah thanked her about fifty times. Then Miss Grayson laid her hand on my upper arm.

'I'm going to bow out now, Scarlet,' she said. 'I've promised to have a word with Mr Hicks and his lab technician.'

'Sorry to Mr Hicks,' I gulped.

She looked mystified. 'For what? Accidentally breaking some test tubes and then falling on one?'

I looked at her, not understanding. She winked. 'The good thing about being Maggie Thatcher is that you have power,' she declared, widening her eyes dramatically. Then she gave me a very quick hug-the first and last time she ever did-and strode away in her boring shoes.

I was desperate to know what had happened in court. I tried asking Hannah, but she made a zipping motion across her lips. 'I think it's best if we tell you and your brothers all together.'

'The boys!' I yelped in dismay. 'The poor things-what time is it? They'll be waiting for me.'

'It's all right,' said Hannah. 'Someone's collecting them from school. I've arranged it all.'

I felt exhausted in the car on the way home. The local anaesthetic was wearing off and my arm was throbbing, but I think some painkilling tablets they'd given me took away the worst of it. Once we were home Gramps waited for me to get out, and we walked up to the house together. We were just going in when I heard another car turn into Faith Lane. I looked casually over my shoulder to see who it was.

Then I did a double take.

'I don't believe it,' I said. 'Um, Hannah . . . Dad's here, and he has the boys in the car.'

Gramps laughed in delight. Hannah glanced out through the doorway. 'Ah yes,' she said nonchalantly. 'That's right. He's collected them for me.'

I felt as though the genie had popped out of his lamp and granted my wish. 'Seriously?' I gasped.

She nodded. I looked at her, trying to read her expression. She was working hard to hide it, but I could see the strain in her face. She looked very pale, and her mouth was quivering.

Gramps tapped me urgently, and pointed out the door. 'Gwonthen,' he said.

Still, I hesitated. I couldn't believe he and Hannah wouldn't mind if I ran out to meet Dad.

'Go on then!' cried Hannah, echoing Gramps. 'You father's been very worried about you. Tell him to come in.'

So I pelted out to the car, and found myself being lifted almost off my feet by Dad. Ben was squeaking away like a mouse with cheese-I suppose it was the surprise of finding his black sheep of a father at his school. Theo stood unsmilingly nearby, rigid as a board, hands hanging by his sides. I knew he was worried that there was going to be a row. To put his mind at rest I cleared my throat importantly-because these next few words were truly momentous-and announced, 'Hannah says you're to come in!'

'She does?' Dad rubbed his hands rapidly and straightened his shoulders, as though he was playing the part of a soldier in a war film. 'Wish me luck, boys. I'm goin' in.'

I'm not going to pretend the three adults did hugs and had a fuzzy Kodak moment. They didn't. To be honest, none of us quite knew how to behave. Gramps was waiting at the door and he shook Dad's hand. Hannah couldn't quite manage a handshake but she did force a very stiff smile, and showed him into the sitting room where he sat awkwardly in an armchair while she gave him tea and biscuits.

'Who's going to do the talking?' she asked.

He inclined his head towards her. 'I think that had better be you, Hannah.'

'All right,' she said, taking a seat on the sofa with Ben snuggled up close. My little brother had gone all clingy again, and was holding on to her skirt. 'I think it's time we explained what we've organised for you all.'

The three of us looked at her.

'The first thing you should know,' she said firmly, 'is that Gramps and I and your father have all come up with this plan together. The next thing is that you are not going to lose a home. You'll have two homes and you will always be welcome at both of them. And let me tell you something else-I'm not having my grandchildren living out of suitcases like little lost refugees, so you'll keep clothes and things in both places. You won't have to pack every time.'

'I'll have to pack Bigwig,' said Theo.

'Yes, well maybe Bigwig, poppet,' agreed Hannah. 'And maybe . . .'

She stopped. I looked at her more closely, and realised she'd choked up. Gramps was gazing sadly at her and trying to speak. I didn't know how to help them. Dad obviously understood what had happened, because after a few seconds he took over.

'What we've decided is that in the long run it's best if you, um . . .' He looked enquiringly at Hannah, but she just flapped her hand, telling him to go on. 'We all think it's best if you are based with me at Flawith Cottage from the start of next year. You'll be going to new schools. But don't worry-you'll still spend a lot of time here, you can phone every day, and I hope Hannah and Gramps will often visit us in Helmsley.'

Ben had climbed right onto Hannah's lap and was cuddling close to her. His thumb was in his mouth and his eyes were round. He whimpered, just once and very quietly. Dad heard, and hesitated.

'Go on, Dad,' I said. 'It's okay.'

He looked from Ben, to Theo, to me. 'Really?'

'Mmm,' said Gramps, nodding vigorously.