‘I don’t know this song,’ Nancy grumbles, kicking at the edge of the island. ‘This is I Think I Love You,’ Ruth tells them. ‘By—’ I freeze, one hand outstretched for the cafetière. ‘Holy fuck, The Partridge Family,’ I say. ‘Daddy!’ Nancy says. But I’m bent over the island, pushing my hands into my eyeballs in an attempt to hold back the tears. Fucking hell, Claire, I tell her silently. You little beauty. Clever, clever girl. ‘It’s the Partridge family,’ Stella tells her. ‘Like partridge.’ I shudder out a breath and turn to Ruth, who’s looking as though I’ve finally lost my marbles. ‘About four
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