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The girls didn’t seem to agree.

Elsie gave a choked sob. “I want to go home, Mummy. I want to go home to our tree and Arthur.”

“I want to go home, too,” Poppy wailed. “I dropped Not-A-Cat and now I can’t find him. He’s lost again.”

Izzy was rooting around in her brain for some idea that might distract them when Mabel spoke.

“The generator should kick in any moment.” She raised her voice to be heard above the chorus of sobs. “My husband, Walter, was very handy around the house. There has been more than one winter when I’ve had reason to be grateful for that.”

“You have a generator? That’s good news,” Matt said. “It comes on automatically?”

“It should. It usually does.”

They all waited.

Nothing happened.

Izzy couldn’t help wondering what would happen if the power didn’t come back on. It wouldn’t be a problem to begin with. They’d eaten, and the house was warm and cosy. But that wouldn’t last.

She sneaked a look at Jason, but she could only see a faint outline of his profile.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said earlier. It will be good to get to know you better, Izzy.

What had he meant by that? She’d been careful not to be alone with him, but soon they’d be back in their room and there would be no avoiding the “talk” he seemed determined to have. Short of her deciding to sleep in the hallway, she couldn’t see a way out of it.

What she didn’t understand was why it was so important to him to talk about it, given he obviously had his “one and only” waiting for him back at home.

Why did they need to talk about something from his past that clearly had no bearing on his future?

Mabel sighed. “I can’t think why the generator isn’t working. I’ll dig out some candles. I have some storm lanterns.”

“I don’t like it,” Elsie said again. “Will you tell us a story, Daddy?”

“Not right now, honey. We need to try and figure out what’s happening with the generator. Jason?”

“Right with you. Let’s go and take a look.”

The two men seemed to have bonded after their multiple trips to retrieve gear from the cars.

They were halfway to the mudroom when the lights came on.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Brooke had pulled Poppy onto her lap. “There. Everything is going to be fine.”

The girls didn’t seem convinced.

Poppy buried her face in Brooke’s shoulder. “Want to go—home,” she hiccupped, and Izzy felt sorry for Brooke, who looked exhausted.

She must be jet-lagged, Izzy thought, and then with all this stress on top of it, the conversation with her parents and trying to keep a bright smile for the girls—it must feel like too much.

But even exhausted, Brooke prioritised her children. She reassured them and was patient and kind, even though Izzy had a feeling that she was ready to lie down and pull the covers over her head.

She wondered if Elsie and Poppy knew how lucky they were. Probably not. If you’d never lived any other version of your life, how would you know?

She felt something brush against her leg. “Oh, here’s real-life Not-A-Cat, safe and sound.” She scooped him up and handed him to Elsie, who clutched him tightly. “And look! Poppy, I found your Not-A-Cat, too.” She retrieved the soft toy from under a chair and handed it to Poppy.

Izzy wanted to help Brooke, and she was about to suggest a game when Mabel stood up with a sudden air of purpose.

“Come with me.” She held out her hand to Elsie. “I have something to show you that I think you’ll like.”