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had called in sick, and he had been juggling every job himself. Mim had donned an apron, washed her hands and winged her way through the hardest shift of her life. By the end of the night, Gordon had offered her a job and a room, and the next day she had packed up her few possessions and left the hostel she’d been staying in. She’d spent the subsequent ten years repaying his kindness and his faith in her by working until she was exhausted and refusing a wage most months to help keep the hotel afloat. She’d never imagined that it would come to such an abrupt end.

Mim wiped away the tears that memories of Gordon provoked, even four months on. He’d taught her never to look back and that everyone was entitled to be judged on what they did today, not on the past. She wasn’t going to waste another minute. She jumped out of bed, endured a quick, lukewarm shower, and dressed in the warmest jumper she owned; despite Bea’s encouragement, she was still reluctant to use the fire, at least until she started paying some rent. She found a pen and pad of paper in a drawer and began a thorough inspection of the caravan. She hadn’t paid much attention to the details over the last few days, when it had only been a roof over her head. Now she was going to stay, she would look at it with a new perspective.

It was a great space – the largest place she’d ever had to herself. The main external door was on the side of the caravan, and it opened into an open-plan living area, with a dining table, a television and a built-in L-shaped sofa that ran along the wall and under a large bay window at the front. One part of the room contained a compact kitchen, equipped with everything Mim could need. The rear half of the caravan was divided into a double bedroom with small en-suite, a twin bedroom and a family bathroom.

It had probably once been smart, as the upholstery and soft furnishings looked to be in a quality fabric in tonal shades of beige. Close inspection revealed the signs of neglect. Dust covered every surface, save for patches where Mim’s movements had wiped it clean. There was a stain down one wall where water had leaked in from somewhere and there were some black patches of mould on the sofa fabric and on the lining of the curtains. There were green marks around the sinks and taps, and enormous cobwebs filled almost every corner. Mim wasn’t daunted by any of it. It was hers. It was safe. It certainly wasn’t the worst place she’d ever stayed. She settled down at the dining table and made a list of all the shopping she needed, with tea bags and milk topping the list and cleaning products filling the rest of it. Now all she needed to do was find a shop, as she had no intention of paying Janet’s prices, even with the five per cent staff discount.

She wandered up to Vennhallow and was surprised when Bea answered the door herself; she’d half expected that they might have a butler to do that.

‘Mim. Perfect timing,’ Bea said, standing back and waving at her to enter. ‘I was about to have morning tea, so you can keep me company. I’ve been abandoned.’

Mim followed Bea through the hall, where the Christmas tree was in the process of being dismantled, past the entrance to the kitchen and into a cosy room overlooking the garden at the back of the house. A log burner was blazing in the fireplace and Mim gravitated towards it while she studied the rest of the room. Like the kitchen, it was decorated in a modern style and looked recently refurbished. A sapphire-blue velvet sofa ran along the length of one wall, and two patterned armchairs were arranged next to a coffee table near the fire. It was all done with exquisite taste and, Mim guessed, an eye-watering amount of money. As she was admiring it all, a lady in a brown housecoat carried in a tray and set it down on the table.

‘Thank you, Mrs Dennis. That looks lovely, as always.’ Bea sat down on one of the armchairs and gestured for Mim to take the other one. ‘Tea? Help yourself to cake.’

Mim didn’t need telling twice. As well as a teapot and two cups and saucers, the tray also contained a platter containing slices of fruit cake, lemon drizzle cake, and what looked like homemade shortbread fingers. She started on a slice of fruit cake while Bea poured the tea.

‘Are Lia and Olly not here?’ Mim asked.

‘No, Olly lives in London and headed home after breakfast. He’s a lawyer and carries out pro bono work,’ Bea replied. Mim had no idea what that meant, but nodded anyway. ‘Lia went with him. She’s going to spend a couple of days shopping before flying off to the Maldives with the girls. It’s beautiful at this time of year. We were there last winter but couldn’t risk going long haul this year with Bill’s health as it is.’

‘Isn’t he well?’ He looked hale and hearty enough to Mim, but then she remembered on New Year’s Day how Lia had fussed over his diet.

‘Oh, he had a scare six months ago, and worried us all senseless,’ Bea said, picking up a biscuit. Her hand trembled. ‘It’s time he remembered he’s not as young as he was and stepped back. Thank goodness Corin’s come home to take over. I don’t know what we’d do without him.’ She smiled and made light of it, but Mim could see the worry was still close behind the surface. She wasn’t surprised. She’d seen with Gordon how quickly an apparently active man could be cut down.

‘Enough of that,’ Bea continued. ‘Let’s not spoil our tea. Did you come over for anything special, my dear?’

‘Only to see if you

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