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‘I’ve just been talking to someone from the council. He says the house is unsafe. You can’t go back inside.’

‘But our clothes. My …’

‘Damn your clothes!’

She hadn’t heard him swear before, and the violence in this voice shocked her. In the darkness of the car her eyes widened, her body shaking suddenly with the drenching onset of reality.

‘You’re coming back with me,’ Jay told her flatly. ‘There’s plenty of room at Whitegates.’

‘Mrs Vickers …’

‘For God’s sake, Claire!’ he exploded tensely. ‘Why are you always so damned independent? You hate me doing the slightest thing for you. You didn’t even want me to run you home tonight, did you? Did you?’

How could she explain to him that she hated being reliant on anyone? Suddenly it all seemed too much; she could feel the tremors of reaction building up inside her. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t let herself, not in front of Jay and the girls.

‘You’ve done me enough favours,’ he reminded her grimly. ‘Surely I’m allowed to do you one small one in return? You and Lucy will stay

at Whitegates tonight, and every night until your own home has been repaired.’

‘That could take weeks,’ protested Claire, her eyes darkening bleakly as she looked back at her small house.

‘The council are going to put some men in to make sure it’s safe; when they have we can come back down and collect your things. You realise that the council won’t pay for the repairs, don’t you even though the tree is on council-owned land?’

She hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, and she looked at him blankly. Her mind seemed to be working very slowly.

‘But surely my own insurance …’

For some reason Jay’s mouth compressed grimly.

‘Maybe,’ he agreed at last, ‘but most insurance companies class something like this as an “Act of God”.’

When he saw that she was looking uncomprehendingly at him, he explained tersely,

‘It isn’t one of the risks they cover—they won’t pay out under the policy. You’ll have to find the money for the repairs yourself.’

Claire had too much pride to let him see what she was feeling. She turned her face away, so that he wouldn’t see her shock. If the insurance company wouldn’t pay out, what on earth was she going to do? How could she possibly afford to pay for the restoration work herself? A terrible, icy sense of fear engulfed her. A vision of the cramped council flat she and Lucy had lived in before they moved to the cottage rose up in front of her and wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t go back to that, not now that she had had a taste of the pleasure that life could be in attractive surroundings. Fate couldn’t be so cruel, surely?

Jay had set the car in motion, but she was barely aware of it. If only tomorrow wasn’t a Saturday. It would be Monday before she could get in touch with the insurance company, before she would know where she stood. Surely Jay was wrong? The house must be covered for this kind of accidental damage.

Round and round her thoughts went in a feverish dance that took her no further forward and did nothing to alleviate the horrendous sense of oppression hanging over her.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I EXPECT YOU’LL WANT TO go down to the village and look at the cottage. I’ll run you down there if you like.’

All four of them were having breakfast in the grey and white kitchen, which now looked lamentably untidy.

Claire had barely slept at all last night and breakfast was the very last thing she had wanted, but nothing seemed to impair Lucy’s appetite, and she owed it to Jay to at least make some attempt to repay his hospitality. And anyway, it helped to keep busy.

‘There’s no need. I don’t mind walking.’

‘No, I’m sure you don’t,’ Jay’s voice was dry, ‘but you’re going to want to collect some clothes for yourself and Lucy, and you can hardly carry them back with you.’

She wanted to protest that there was no need for him to involve himself in her affairs in this way, but the words stuck in her throat. She still couldn’t totally comprehend what had happened. Last night in the bustle of making up beds for herself and Lucy, and getting both girls settled for the night, there hadn’t been time to dwell on what had happened. Later, alone in bed, in the austere off-white bedroom Jay had suggested she use, there had been too much time, too many worries crowding into her mind for her to be able to sort things out into any sort of order.

As she sipped her coffee she stared out of the kitchen window. The sky was a perfect pale blue, the sun palely gold; last night’s gale had died out and it was hard to look at the beautiful perfection of the crisp autumn day outside and remember what last night had been. Part of her stubbornly wanted to pretend that it hadn’t happened at all.

‘Mummy, can we go and play outside?’

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