Her wrist hurt abominably, but stubbornness and shame had prevented her from doing anything about it in terms of seeing a doctor or asking for help. Resentfully, she had done as the man had said, applying cold compresses, bandaging it to give support and, when the pain grew too much, managing to tie a sling. She’d got through her own supply of painkillers and had eventually walked to the corner shop for more, but all the time she was out she’d felt exposed and scared. But that was nothing compared to the fear for her children that had built and built since Gregory had left and now felt ready to explode. She had tried to call Paul again, but he still wasn’t answering his phone. She had tried to find the number for Tilly’s farm, but either it was ex-directory or it didn’t have a phone and her search was not helped by the fact that she didn’t know the actual address. To them it had always been Tilly’s farm, at the end of an unadopted road, up a long cart track. She wasn’t even sure it had a proper name.
