The master chef’s at work and I don’t you stealing my trade secrets, handed down from generations of Jones’s past and present. Go on, get lost. ...’ll call you when the food’s ready.”They both laughed. “We better do as he says, Francis. He gets all moody if he doesn’t get his own way. And if anything gets burnt, I guarantee you it’ll be our fault for disturbing his concentration.”With that Sue lightly touched Francis' arm and led him into the lounge. Even seeing that tiny touch by Sue made my gut. ‘What’s for supper?’ ‘It’s your mother’s turn to cook. Yours is in the microwave, I think.’ ‘Which means you’ve all already eaten, which means you could answer my fucking question. Never mind.’ He stood again. ‘Let me know when you can be bothered to spend some time with your husband.’ When he left the room, April let out the breath she’d been holding and grabbed a tissue from the box beside her. He was getting worse. Much worse. If she didn’t get herself and her daughters out of here soon, who. More

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