Francesca Finch opened a tin of clear wood varnish with the end of an old spoon. She looked over to her daughter. She was lying on her front on the living room carpet looking through old photograph albums. Francesca expected questions but didn't receive any. She'd returned to work two days after her Dad had died. The news had got to her boss and she sent her home with three weeks of compassionate leave on full pay. 'Take more if you need to,' her boss had said. 'You've more than earnt it.' Bunny sat up and watched her Mum varnishing a stick back chair in the middle of the kitchen. She had her curly blonde hair in a ponytail and had changed into what she called her hobbyshop dungarees. She was always pulling things out of skips. The bike Bunny rode came from a skip, the desk in her bedroom came from a skip. 'I'm not having four perfectly good chairs go to the tip,' her Mum said. 'It's elm wood. Made before a disease killed most ...