The album lay open on the bed. Claire lifted it and went to shut the curtains. A light fall of snow had dressed the fields in a pearly-white sheen under a three-quarters moon. She stood for a moment, breathing in the peace of the place. This was why she’d come here, and despite everything that had happened in the past week she didn’t regret the move. Claire wished she could save this moment for ever, bring it back in all its intensity when she needed it most. She closed her eyes and focused on remembering all aspects of it; moonlight on snow, the inky blue of the sky, the soft delicate light in the room, the sound of Emma’s quiet, untroubled breath and the scent of warm-washed child, hair still damp from the bath. She shut the door quietly behind her and went downstairs, taking the album with her. In the sitting room the fire had settled to a steady glow. This was the time Claire liked best, when the day had drawn to a close and she could sit alone, knowing Emma was safely asleep upstairs.
