She smiled at the thought that they couldn’t share, even this, and then wondered who had thought of it first. Or perhaps it hadn’t been either of them. See that cafe, guys? Here’s some money to go buy your mother a postcard each. She frowned as the thought formed, annoyed at her eagerness to believe the best. Then flexed her hand as she walked up towards the house slowly, postponing the pleasure of the cards for as long as possible, for good luck. It had been a slow few days, with each simply leading up to the evening’s phone call: laconic and offhand or overflowing and animated, depending on whether it was Sam or Ashley. She told herself she was glad, thrilled, things were turning out so well. That both children were having a fantastic time and were getting on so well with their father and perhaps he really was a changed man – with everyone except her. This was a message that also seemed to be getting through to Hannah, helped by the fact that Maddie hadn’t shared the finer details of the confrontation at the airport.
