JULIET APPLEBY
‘So what time will you be home tonight?’ asked Mrs Appleby, frustrated. She stared at her daughter across the breakfast table. Sometimes trying to get information out of Juliet was like trying to get blood out of a stone. She’d always been the same.
‘I don’t know,’ she answered in a quiet, mumbling voice that her mother had to strain to hear.
‘You know how your father gets if you’re not back when he’s expecting you.’
‘I know, but I can’t help it if I have to stop back after school…’
‘He has to have his meal before half-six otherwise it keeps him awake all night. And you know how he likes us all to eat together. It’s an important part of family life.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Dad says so. He likes his routine, that’s all. And he likes to know where you are. He likes to know y
