Shifting Sands
daughter, grabbing her by the arm.
    â€˜What the hell are you doing here?’
    Daisy’s mouth set in a sullen line that was depressingly familiar. ‘I’m not going back,’ she said.
    â€˜Oh yes, you are, young lady. Wait till your father hears about this.’
    Daisy switched to pleading mode. ‘Please don’t make me, Mum! Everyone’s been getting at me – I hate it there!’
    â€˜Is this all because you didn’t do your prep?’
    Daisy stared at her in astonishment. ‘How—?’
    â€˜I’ve had Miss Wright on the phone, that’s how. There’s been a full-scale search of the school and grounds, enquiries made at the station – uselessly, as it turns out – and she was about to call the police.’
    Daisy looked frightened. ‘I didn’t think—’
    â€˜You never do! That’s the trouble!’
    â€˜You sound just like Daddy!’ Daisy accused her, and burst into tears.
    With an exasperated sigh, Imogen bent to retrieve the satchel and, still grasping her daughter’s arm, led her back into the house.
    â€˜She thinks she can do exactly as she likes!’ Roger stormed. He’d had a trying day at the office and, looking forward to the weekend, had arrived home in the middle of a scene between his wife and daughter, whom he’d thought safely at school. Now, having despatched Daisy to her room, he’d rounded on Imogen.
    â€˜You’re far too lenient with her, I keep telling you that, giving her everything she asks for – money, clothes, whatever fancy takes her. God knows if the school will have her back, and then what would we do, with GCSEs within spitting distance?’
    â€˜I managed to soothe them down,’ Imogen replied, ‘but your shouting at her won’t help.’
    â€˜On the contrary, I’ve not shouted enough! I’m sick and tired of having my authority flouted by the two of you going behind my back.’
    â€˜Roger, I don’t! I’m only trying to keep the peace!’
    â€˜But at what cost?’ He strode to the drinks cupboard and poured himself a straight whisky, downing it in one. ‘I’ve had the hell of a week at work, and this is what I come home to!’
    â€˜So . . . what are we going to do?’
    â€˜Send her back, of course. If you’re sure they’ll take her.’
    â€˜But shouldn’t we try to find out what’s wrong? She must have been unhappy, to—’
    â€˜Nonsense! She’s not used to discipline, that’s the trouble, and when someone tries to enforce it, she promptly runs home to Mummy, who’s sure to take her side.’
    â€˜That’s not fair!’ Imogen flared.
    â€˜It’s you who aren’t fair, Imogen, letting her think she can get away with this.’
    â€˜But I don’t! I never said that, though I do think we should give her the chance—’
    â€˜She’s had plenty of chances.’ He ran his hand over his face. ‘Look, I need some peace and quiet. The three of you go ahead and have dinner. I’m off to the golf club. I’ll get something to eat there.’
    And before she could marshal the words to protest, the front door had banged behind him. Imogen ran into the hall, about to call him back, but Jack was standing motionless on the stairs, looking down at her. How much had he heard?
    She steadied her breath. ‘Have you done your homework?’
    He nodded, eyes wide.
    â€˜Then you can have half an hour on the computer before dinner.’
    â€˜Is Daddy coming back?’ Jack asked, his voice trembling.
    â€˜Not for dinner.’ She knew that wasn’t what he meant, but didn’t trust herself to elaborate. She turned abruptly into the kitchen, her mind seething, and promptly lifted the phone.
    â€˜Sophie? It’s me. Is this a bad time?’
    â€˜Well, supper’s under way, but it’s ticking over for the

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