Season of Longing

Book 3: Seasons trilogy

by Sadie Matthews

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

The third book in the SEASONS series by the author of the AFTER DARK trilogy - a provocatively thrilling and romantic story of desire, submission and love.
All Summer Hammond has ever wanted is love and security. Now, she feels terribly alone. Her sisters Freya and Flora are consumed with their love affairs, and worse than that, their father has finally lost patience with his wayward daughters, deciding he will cut them off financially for good.
The shock of rejection hits Summer hard and she decamps to LA, where she meets Jack Fiori, a gorgeous Italian American. The attraction between them is unmistakable and when Jack invites Summer on a trip to Vegas, just the two of them, she eagerly accepts. But it soon becomes clear that the trip was a ruse. To her horror, Summer realises she's been kidnapped. But Jack won't listen to her explain she's no longer an heiress. For a kidnapper, he seems curiously uninterested in money.
Summer is sure that Jack isn't going to hurt her, but she needs to find out why this is happening. Gradually, the intensity between them builds to levels neither of them can resist. And Summer will find out the secret of why Jack has brought her here and what he hopes to gain...

Release date: March 12, 2015

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 368

Sample

Chapter Eight

I stare at Jack, dumbfounded, and sink back into my seat. I can’t seem to get what he’s just said through my head. At last I find my voice.

‘What?’ I say, almost laughing in disbelief. ‘You mean – you’ve kidnapped me?’

Jack gives a sharp nod, his lips tight.

‘But . . . how on earth are you going to get away with this?’ I’m struggling to take it in. ‘Jimmy and Charlie know I’m with you. They know who you are.’

‘Do they?’ The words rap out and strike me with a force that makes me blink.

Do they? I feel like I’ve plunged over the edge of a cliff. They don’t know where we are. I don’t know where I am. Oh my God – no one has a clue.

‘But you’re Charlie’s friend,’ I say lamely.

‘Charlie has no idea,’ Jack says. He walks into a small galley kitchen that leads off the dining area and gets two glasses of water from the tap. My mind races as I watch him.

‘They know your name and where you work!’ I call through the open door.

‘No they don’t.’ He returns and puts a glass down in front of me, then sits and gulps his while I stare into the ripples in the water, a cold horror filling me. I look up at him.

‘You’re not . . . who you said you are,’ I whisper.

He shakes his head. ‘Nope.’

‘You don’t design cars.’

He shakes his head again.

‘Then what about the one outside?’

‘That’s nothing for you to worry about. Let’s just say a friend lent it to me.’

‘Then . . .’ I’m putting pieces together. It’s a puzzle that I seem to have been doing all my life, afraid of seeing what it will finally reveal. And now the pieces have slotted together and it’s finished. The picture on it is my worst nightmare. The words come out shaky. ‘Then you know who I am.’

Jack gulps more water and gives a short, mirthless laugh as he slams the glass back down. ‘It was kinda cute, the way you tried to put me off the scent.’ He does an imitation of my voice. ‘“Oh yes, my sisters are called Florence and Frances.”’

I wince. I feel heavy, sick and dazed, as though someone has put stones in my stomach. ‘But you already knew.’

‘Of course I did.’ He won’t look at me. Instead he’s pushing a droplet of water around the tabletop.

‘How? Charlie says he didn’t tell you.’

‘He didn’t. I’ve known a long time.’ Then he looks up at me, the expression in his dark eyes unreadable. ‘I’ve always known.’

A cold shiver runs down my back. I’m suddenly freezing in my thin dress. There’s more here, much more than I understand. I manage to speak, though it’s barely more than a whisper. ‘You want money.’

Jack’s fists clench and a look of fury crosses his face. ‘I don’t want your money,’ he spits.

‘But then . . . why?’ For the first time, I feel a rush of misery and tears spring to my eyes. ‘Why, Jack?’ A tear spills over and runs down my cheek. ‘Why are you doing this?’

He sees and looks away. ‘I told you, I’m not going to explain. No more questions.’ His voice is rough, as though he can’t bear to see my sadness. When I sniff, he strides towards the door. ‘I’m getting some things from the car.’ Then he stops and turns back towards me, breathing hard. ‘But before I do . . . I’m sorry, Summer, but you can’t stay there.’

I look about me at the blameless dining area, wiping away my tears and sniffing. ‘Why not?’

He comes over and takes my arm again, lifting me up although not roughly. ‘Follow me.’

Jack leads me to a door that opens off the living area. Inside is a small room with one window, tiny and set high up in the wall so that it’s more like a skylight. It’s impossible to reach without standing on something. There’s some sparse furnishing, including a single bed covered in a patchwork quilt. ‘Wait in here,’ he instructs.

I look around the bedroom. ‘Oh – I see. Is this my cell? Is this where you’re going to keep me?’ I turn on him, my eyes flashing. My tears are gone. And I’m not going to let him see me cry again. ‘Are you one of those crazies who takes girls and keeps them prisoner for decades? Have you been building some kind of dungeon for me, like those evil losers in the news? Maybe you’ve seen my picture in magazines and decided that you’re going to adopt me as your own little pet, is it that?’ I laugh bitterly. ‘You’re pathetic!’

His own eyes darken in response. ‘Shut up! Don’t say that.’

‘Well, it is pathetic!’

‘You don’t know the first fucking thing about this,’ he shoots back, his expression fierce. ‘And I’m putting you here so you don’t do something stupid like run off and get lost where nobody can fucking find you. So shut up and stay here till I get back.’

He steps out of the room and slams the door. The key turns in the lock and I’m left staring at the white-painted wood of the door, wondering how on earth I got here, and how I’m going to get out.

I walk to the bed and sit down on it, staring at the pretty squares of patchwork.

Flora, are you there? Can you believe this asshole?

Summer . . . you flew close to the wind talking to him like that. You need to be more careful.

I’m not going to let him treat me like this without putting up a fight! Besides, what if I’m right? What if he’s decided to keep me for the foreseeable, like those poor girls I’ve read about?

Your safety is paramount. Don’t do anything foolish until you understand more about what’s going on here.

I close my eyes and realise my fists are clenched hard. But this is my worst nightmare! What am I going to do? What if he wants to hurt me, or kill me? What if I never see you again?

Stay strong. I’m with you. I’ll find you, wherever you are.

I’m shaking. The shock is hitting me now. I hunch over to keep warm, my body beginning to shiver violently. I hope to God my twin telepathy is real. I pray that Flora, wherever she is, can hear me or at least sense that I’m reaching out to her. All my life, I’ve feared this very thing. And now it’s happened and I have the horrible feeling that this has always been my fate and there was nothing I could do to avoid it. I’ve been walking towards Jack without knowing it. I had to meet him. And now, here I am, alone and completely at his mercy.

I’m afraid.

 

I don’t know how long it is before Jack returns but when the door opens, I don’t open my eyes. I stay where I am, hunched and shivering on the bed.

‘Summer?’ he says roughly as he throws a bag on the floor. ‘Are you okay?’

I don’t answer. I can’t. My teeth are chattering and I’m shaking so hard, I must look like I’m wired to the mains or something. He’s beside me in two strides.

‘What’s wrong? Are you cold? Here, I’ll get a blanket.’ I hear him go to the closet and open it. He rummages about and a moment later he’s back, and a blanket is draped around my shoulders. ‘It’s not so cold here but your dress is thin. What did you bring with you . . .?’ He leaves me again and I hear him unzip something. I open my eyes to see him squatting by my bag, frowning at the contents. The sight is enough to enable me to speak through my chattering teeth.

‘Not much, I’m afraid. I guess I would have brought more if you’d told me I was going to be kidnapped!’

Jack says nothing but pulls out the cardigan I packed in case of a midnight swim. He tosses it over towards me. ‘Put it on if you’re still cold.’

I take it and pull it under the blanket. Instead of putting it on, I clutch it to me like it’s a comforter, hugging it as though it were my favourite teddy. Jack is watching and when I glance up, I can see that same look of bewilderment in his face.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this.

That thought comes unbidden into my mind, a little spark of revelation. But when I look again, his face has taken on the closed-off look I already feel I know so well. That glimpse of his humanity helps me calm down and take control. I force myself to breathe regularly, and attempt to stop shaking. As Jack stands up and looks down at me on the bed, I manage to control myself enough to bring the trembling down to a minimum.

‘What’s going to happen now?’ I ask.

Jack paces about again, his agitation returning. ‘We’re going to stay here for a while. I’m not sure how long. Please don’t think about calling anyone – I’ve got your phone and there’s no landline here. And if you’ve got any crazy ideas about trying to escape, then forget it. All the doors and windows are locked, and even if you did get out, there are miles between us and anyone else. You’d never find your way.’

There’s always a way, I think, but I don’t say anything. I need to listen to what he’s saying.

‘Your family will see sense pretty soon,’ he continues. He stops pacing and turns to look at me. His eyes are glowing with a fierce intensity. ‘They won’t want to risk anything happening to you. Not after last time.’

‘So you know about that, do you?’ A bitter depression swamps me. ‘You know what we’ve been through in the past and yet you’re still able to inflict that kind of pain on my family again?’ A mirthless laugh escapes my lips. ‘Well, congratulations. I think you’ve just won the Fucking Shit of the Year competition.’

His expression changes in front of my eyes, his face contorting with fury. ‘You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about!’ he roars. ‘You have no idea!’ He seems to want to burst out with something more, but stops himself, turns on his heel and storms out, slamming the door behind him. The lock shoots back into place. He’s left me on my own.

 

I don’t know how much later it is when the door opens again. I’ve been lying here, staring into the darkness, my thoughts whirling round and round until, without realising it, I’m trembling on the edge of sleep. It’s only when I start up at the sound of the door that I guess how close I was to unconsciousness. I can’t believe I could relax so far as to sleep.

‘Summer?’ Jack’s voice comes softly from the doorway. ‘Are you okay?’

‘What do you care?’ I retort, pulling the blanket tighter around me. I’m warm now but I still need its comfort.

‘The light was still on. I wondered if maybe you can’t sleep.’

‘You expect me to sleep?’ I demand, not admitting I was about to sink into slumber despite the light blazing out. ‘After what you’ve done?’

He stands there silently for a moment. I won’t look at him so I have no idea of his expression. After a while he says, ‘I haven’t done anything to you.’

I can’t let that go. I wrench myself round to stare at him furiously. ‘Then take me home! Right now.’

He looks tired and there’s a shadow of dark stubble on his chin. His hair is mussed as though he’s been running his hands through it. He sighs, his shoulders hunching slightly, and then says quietly, ‘I can’t do that. Not now.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s . . . it’s too late for that.’

I sense something wavering in him, and push on. ‘Why is it? It’s not too late! Please, Jack . . .’ My voice is filled with all the beseeching I can put into it. ‘Please, take me home. We can put this behind us, I promise.’

He looks down, and puts his hands in his pockets. He’s like a boy whose been caught out doing something wrong and now wants to admit it and makes amends, but is too proud to stoop to it.

I speak in a soft, cajoling voice. ‘Please take me home, Jack. You know it’s the best thing you can do.’

His face twists and he bursts out, ‘I can’t do that, Summer! I told you, it’s too late now. I’ve got you here, and I have to keep you here.’

‘Why? For how long?’

‘Until your family does the right thing!’

‘My family? So this is about money!’ I can’t hide the scorn that I feel from showing in my face. ‘All along you’ve planned this abduction so you can ransom me for cash . . .’ I shake my head. ‘And I trusted you. Jimmy said not to, but I didn’t listen. I thought he was being unkind not giving you a chance. I should have paid attention to him – after all, I know for sure that he’s a genuine friend. Not someone who wants to make a buck out of me.’

‘It’s not that simple,’ Jack says shortly. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘So tell me.’ I stare at him furiously. ‘Make me understand.’

He returns my stare mutely, his eyes narrowing.

‘So here’s something you don’t understand,’ I snap. ‘If you think you’re going to make money out of my family, you’re wrong. For your information, my father has just decided to cut me off. I’m not the rich little girl you think I am. I’ve probably got less money than you.’

Jack’s complexion visibly pales. ‘What?’ he stammers.

I feel something like a surge of disappointment. So it was all just for cash. He’s done this for the money. He is no different to all the rest of the gold-diggers and gigolos. No, wait, he’s worse. After all, none of them tried to kidnap me.

‘Your father has cut you off? He doesn’t care about you?’ He looks almost agonised.

‘I can see you’re clearly sympathetic to my plight,’ I say sarcastically. ‘But yes. He doesn’t give a shit about me any more. So if you’re after money, you’ve made a big mistake. You may as well let me go right now!’

Jack hardly seems to hear me. He’s staring at me, flabbergasted. I expect him to say something, but he says nothing, just turns on his heel and walks out. As he goes, he flips the light switch and slams the door to behind him.

I’m left in total darkness, staring at the unseeable walls of the strange room I’m in.

Flora’s voice seems to whisper in my ear. That was dangerous, Summer. Maybe he thinks you have no value if there’s no money to be had.

I don’t care! I sound defiant but I’m scared. He may as well know right now that my father isn’t going to pay any ransom.

With that thought, I lie back on the pillows and curl up under my blanket. When two hot tears break out from under my lids and flow down my cheeks, I wipe them angrily away.

‘Fuck it, I’m not going to cry,’ I say through clenched teeth.

But the fear that my father won’t care when he learns what’s happened makes my heart want to break.

Chapter Eighteen

Flora and Jimmy have a room service breakfast together, eating fresh fruit salad and yoghurt, though Flora can barely get that down with the anxiety churning inside, and sipping on strong coffee. Charlie arrives while they’re still eating and sits down to join them for coffee. He goes straight into the developments he’s made.

‘I went to Jack’s workplace – the place he told me he worked, anyway,’ Charlie says. ‘And I made sure they’d never heard of him. No one knows of any Jack Fuoco. Definitely not. I asked to see a staff list.’ He pulls a sheet of paper out of his bag. ‘The receptionist wasn’t that keen to hand over the staff list to a complete stranger, but when I spun a story about a surprise birthday party and a lost friend, she kind of melted and got me a photocopy.’

‘Well done, Charlie!’ Jimmy says, and clinks a coffee cup against Charlie’s.

‘I suppose so,’ Flora says slowly. ‘But what good will it do if no one there has heard of him?’

‘Well . . .’ Charlie takes a sip of his coffee. ‘Jack does live in Los Angeles – or at least he does at the moment. He told me that his sister works in a hospital downtown. That seems to me to indicate that he is based here.’

‘Unless that was a lie too,’ Jimmy puts in.

‘Yeah – but it was said in the kind of way that seemed more like throwaway information. As though he wasn’t really thinking when he said it. I don’t think it was something he said to mislead me, that’s all.’ Charlie sighs. ‘So my train of thought is that he picked this car design company because he has some kind of connection there. A friend or something. That’s why he uses it for his cover story.’

‘Risky?’ asks Jimmy.

‘Maybe less risky than picking somewhere he’s completely unconnected to. At least this way he can walk into the building if he has to.’

‘Good point,’ concedes Jimmy.

Flora picks up the staff list. ‘So we work our way through this, and call them all? Ask if they know Jack Fuoco? As it’s not his real name, as far as we can work out, I don’t see how that will help.’

Charlie takes another sip of his coffee and says, ‘Have you ever heard of the fifteen-inch rule?’

Flora shakes her head, and Jimmy says playfully, ‘It sounds like a good one!’

Charlie shoots him a look and says, ‘There’s a saying that if you’ve mislaid something, the chances are that it’s probably within fifteen inches of where you think you left it. I’ve tried it, and it works nine times out of ten. I think there’s a similar kind of thing we can apply here. When Jack made his cover story, he probably created a life that was not that far removed from his actual one. It’s easier to remember that way. So what do we know about Jack?’

Flora picks up a piece of paper and says, ‘Let’s write down everything you can think of.’

Charlie and Jimmy rack their brains for everything they can recall about Jack, and at the end, they have a decent list of facts they absorbed over their friendship with him.

‘How will this help us?’ Flora says, scanning the list. ‘Number one – he’s Italian.’ She looks over at the other two. ‘Do you think that’s true?’

‘I do,’ Jimmy says, ‘if his looks are anything to go by. Classic olive skin, dark-brown eyes, dark hair. Very Mediterranean.’

‘I agree,’ Charlie says and looks at the staff list again. ‘He might not be Jack Fuoco but he’s definitely Italian. So let’s look and see if there are any Italians working at the car company. Maybe that’s a link we can identify.’

‘Maybe,’ Flora says, looking worried, ‘but it’s tenuous.’

‘Here,’ Jimmy says, pointing at a name on the list. ‘Alvaro da Silva. Is that Italian?’

Charlie says, ‘I don’t think so – more Spanish, I think.’

‘Yes, I agree,’ says Flora, craning to see the list. ‘But this one, Mark Belluccio. That’s Italian, I’m sure.’

‘And this one – Antony D’Angeli. That’s definitely another.’

They find four in total that look as though they are Italian.

‘I think this is hopeless,’ Flora says, sitting back on the sofa and looking disheartened. ‘We have no idea what might link these names to Jack. One could be his real name but how will we find out?’

‘We’ll think of something,’ Jimmy says consolingly. ‘And it’s all we’ve got right now.’

They’re still mulling over plans when the phone rings. It’s the front desk, letting them know that a visitor is on the way up.

‘A Mr McManus, Miss Hammond.’

‘Thank you.’ Flora puts the phone down and turns to the others. ‘Mac’s on his way up. Maybe he’s got something to tell us. I’m desperate to have some information for Freya when she gets here.’

When Mac arrives at the suite, still dapper in his cowboy boots, jeans and a linen jacket, Flora tells him what they’ve been up to.

‘That’s a good start,’ he says. ‘I have to say that I’ve done some extensive searches and I haven’t turned up anyone by the name of Jack Fuoco. Anyone with a name even vaguely similar checks out, I’m afraid. I was gonna ask you for exactly this – a resumé of everything you know about him. May I see, please?’ He examines the piece of paper, pursing his lips and making little whistle noises through them as he does so. ‘His sister is a nurse, is she? Any idea which hospital?’

Charlie shakes his head. ‘I can’t remember if he said. I did get the impression it’s somewhere central though. And not so famous that I’d heard of it.’

‘Yeah – nothing so easy as that.’ Mac shakes his head. ‘It never is. And maybe the sister is an invention anyway.’

‘Charlie doesn’t think so,’ Jimmy puts in.

Mac pushes the fact sheet away from him and sits back on the sofa. ‘What’s puzzling me right now is that we still haven’t heard anything from him. I expected some kind of communication last night. That would work with the kind of timeline these people usually have. They leave it long enough for fear and panic to set in, but they also want to come in before the police have got involved. They usually don’t want to keep the victim for any longer than necessary, so find it hard not to make their demands within a day or two of the kidnap.’ He frowns and his jaws move up and down as he chews his gum. ‘Yeah, that really is strange. I’d have put good money on the fact that he was gonna call us last night. And then he didn’t.’

‘Maybe he called someone else – like my father,’ suggests Flora.

‘Does Summer know that number off by heart?’ Mac asks.

Flora shakes her head. ‘I don’t think so. He changes phones and numbers all the time. We’ve never been able to learn them all. But she has the number stored on her phone.’

Mac says, ‘I don’t think he’ll want to turn on that phone if he can avoid it. He’ll know that it can be traced easily once it’s turned on its location services. My guess is that he’ll call from another phone and he’ll want to use a number without accessing Summer’s contact list inside her phone.’

‘She knows my number off by heart,’ Flora says quickly.

‘I guessed as much. And that’s why I thought I might get a call from you in the night or first thing this morning saying that contact had been made.’ Mac ponders for a moment, staring at the remains of the breakfast. ‘Say – can you think of any reason apart from money why your sister might be taken? Does she have any enemies?’

Flora shakes her head again, her expression bewildered. ‘No! That’s the crazy thing. It’s got to be about money, there is literally no other reason. Summer doesn’t have any bitter ex-boyfriends or anything like that.’

Mac stares at her thoughtfully. ‘Okay. But I’m gonna make a copy of this list of yours, all right? Then I’m going to take it away and study it properly.’

Jimmy explains about their idea of finding a link at the car design company.

‘That’s not a bad avenue of enquiry at all,’ Mac says encouragingly. ‘You guys should carry on with that. Something might come of it, you never know.’ He picks up a pen. ‘I’ll do the copy of this list and you can start making me a list of things I ought to know about Summer as well.’

‘Okay,’ Flora says. ‘I can ask Freya when she gets here too.’

‘Freya?’

‘My older sister,’ she explains. ‘She’s arriving from Scotland to help look for Summer.’ Her phone beeps and she takes it out to look at it. Then she frowns. ‘Goodness. My father is coming as well. Jane-Elizabeth says they’re on the way to the airport now. They’ll be here this evening.’

‘Quite the gathering of the clan,’ remarks Mac with a smile. ‘Well, that’s nice. I’m a pushover for a family reunion.’

‘Somehow,’ Flora says, rereading the message, ‘I don’t think that’s quite what will happen here.’ She looks over at Jimmy. ‘This should be interesting.’

 

Freya finally manages to get to sleep not long before they come in to land at LAX. Miles doesn’t wake her until the last possible moment, and she comes to properly when the plane hits the ground with a light bump and then the braking begins, the vast power of the plane’s acceleration tamed and drained as they travel along the runway.

‘We’re here,’ Miles says, with a smile. ‘Do you feel all right?’

She blinks. ‘I feel groggy.’ A huge yawn overtakes her. ‘How long did I sleep?’

‘You got about two hours, I’d say,’ Miles says. He rubs her hand. ‘This is going to be a tough couple of days. I want you to know that I’m right here for you.’

‘I know.’ She leans over and kisses him. ‘Thank you. I can’t believe what you’ve given up for me.’

‘Not as much as you’ve given up for me,’ he says, and stares intently into her eyes. ‘You know why.’

‘Yes,’ she whispers back, a dark excitement turning over in her stomach. He still has the power to turn her liquid with a look.

‘Come on. Let’s get ready to disembark,’ he says. ‘It’s a bit sunnier here than Scotland, I’ll give it that!’

Fifteen minutes later, they’re off the plane and through passport control. Miles collects their luggage while Freya goes to the ladies’ room. When they meet again, she’s freshened up and is smiling.

‘I’m ready for action,’ she announces. ‘Let’s do this.’

‘Great,’ Miles says. Their cases are loaded on to a trolley and waiting. ‘Let’s go and find your sister.’

 

In the arrivals hall, they see Flora and Jimmy at once, even though Flora’s partially hidden under a large floppy hat and shades. Flora waves hard and is dashing towards her sister in an instant and the next moment they are hugging fiercely. When they pull apart, Flora has tears falling down her cheeks.

‘Hey!’ Freya regards the tears with a worried expression. ‘What’s this? Is there news?’

‘No – nothing,’ sniffs Flora. ‘I’m just so happy to see you. And I’m so worried about Summer. It’s all getting on top of me.’ She turns to Miles with a smile. ‘Hi, Miles. Thanks for coming with Freya. I can’t tell you how grateful we are.’

‘You’re welcome. I’m fond of Summer. I want her home safe and sound as much as anyone.’ Miles looks at Freya with tenderness. ‘And I wasn’t going to let Freya go through this alone.’

Flora smiles at them both, but it’s a little faltering. Freya wonders if something is wrong but before she can ask, Flora says brightly, ‘And it’s going to be quite a gathering before too long. Dad is on his way.’

‘Oh God.’ Freya shuts her eyes and feels faint for a second. ‘It must be bad. Is there something you’re not telling me?’

‘No, no,’ Flora says hastily. ‘But I had to tell Jane-Elizabeth to alert him. You know that.’

Freya nods. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Jane-Elizabeth emailed me to say that they’ve booked an entire floor of the Ritz-Carlton. She wanted to know if I would like to move suites and join them.’

‘Not surprisingly, Flora wants to stay exactly where she is!’ pipes up Jimmy. ‘Hi, Freya. Great to see you. I’m just sorry it’s in these circumstances.’

‘Hi Jimmy.’ Freya kisses him hello. ‘Lovely to see you too. Now – much as I love the airport, do you think we can head off now? I’m dying for a good cup of coffee.’

‘I booked you on the same floor as us,’ Flora says as they head for the exit.

‘So it really is going to be all of us together,’ Freya says, shaking her head. ‘I thought we might never be together again, after the last time.’

‘We don’t have Summer,’ Flora reminds her.

‘Not yet,’ Miles puts in firmly. ‘But we will.’

Flora smiles at him gratefully. ‘Yes, we will. And I’ll tell you all about our private investigator in the car. He’s on the case.’

Miles raises his eyebrows. ‘A gumshoe, eh? Interesting.’

Freya is struck by a cold thought. ‘We won’t just have Dad, though, will we? We’ll have Estella as well.’

‘I suppose so,’ Flora says. ‘I d. . .