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Her fingers reached for a green felt tree filled with stuffing. It felt like only yesterday she’d cut and sewn it. On another branch hung a foam penguin that had withstood the test of time, even if it was missing an eye. She remembered making that when she was very young.

“I can’t believe you still have all these.”

“They’re family treasures. Where else would they be?”

Lucie’s eyes stung again. The family’s greatest treasure, though, was probably Mandy. Though she wasn’t family by blood, she’d been the glue holding them together and, more importantly, upright, through some of their darkest days.

“Your dad and I agreed they should stay here, where they belong. Like so many other things. Your gran had good taste.”

Lucie nodded, her gaze drifting around the room. She could remember Gran’s excitement at moving into Croft Cottage as if it were yesterday. By the end of that year, they were sitting in the doctor’s surgery for memory tests, and everything changed.

When Mandy had moved in following Gran’s death, she’d kept most things as they were. Lucie hadn’t expected to see so much of it still here; she’d assumed Mandy would have replaced it bit by bit over time. Gran’s old dresser on the far wall caught her eye. It had been in the background of every WhatsApp call she and Mandy had shared over the years. The only noticeable difference was the sofa.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmm.” Lucie hummed and tapped her head. “Yes. Just old memories floating around.”

Mandy gave a sympathetic smile. “You can finally try out the infamous sofa.”

Lucie recalled reports from both Mandy and her dad about the struggle to get it through the narrow front door.

“Come and see what we’ve done with the kitchen first.”

She headed through to the back, and Lucie followed, stopping at the door as she took in the transformation. The traditional wooden units were gone, replaced with sleek, white gloss.

“You wouldn’t believe it was free, would you?”

“No.”

“Good old Facebook Marketplace.” Mandy beamed. “Your dad did a great job installing it. I can’t take any credit; I just passed him his tools and made the tea.”

Lucie smiled, picturing them completing this project together.

“What can I get you to drink?”

“Just a small glass of wine, please. I have to be at the hall a bit earlier tomorrow.”

“Again?”

Realising Mandy thought she was covering for someone, Lucie pondered whether to tell her the truth. It wasn’t something that was going to be easy to keep quiet — she’d already told her dad — and anyway, why should she? She was proud to help people; it was what she did best.

“Actually, I’m going to keep Rose company for a few hours before my shift,” she said, trying to downplay it.

Mandy shot her a look as she passed her a glass of wine.

“Thanks, and please don’t give me a lecture.”

“I gave you my advice. If you don’t take it, it’s up to you. You’re not a child anymore. I’m well past me giving you a stern talking-to when you need it.”

“Ha, ha,” Lucie said flatly, narrowing her eyes.

“And you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t helping someone.”

That much was true. She appreciated that Mandy at least recognised that, even if her dad hadn’t fully.

“You took your time seeing the Delaneys’ home,” Mandy teased, picking up her glass and the bottle.

“I’ve been with Dad, actually,” Lucie shot back as she followed Mandy to the sofa. “I saw him heading to the graveyard, so I went and sat with him.”