He has a point. As much as I wish I’d grown up with a different set of parents, they were still the ones I got lumped with. Every now and again, Mum and Dad showed signs of affection, possibly even love for their children, like when they bought me that purple bike, or when Dad let me stay with Grammy Rose. I need to hold on to those moments.

“OK,” I whisper.

“You’ll come?”

“Yes. But I’m not staying. We’d have to go down there and back in a day. What time’s the funeral?”

“Two in the afternoon.”

“So if it’s a three-hour drive, let’s say three and a half in case the traffic’s bad, we could leave there at 5 p.m. and be back by nine at the latest.”

“Fine by me. I’ll pick you up. I imagine being stuck behind the wheel for that distance while you’re heavily pregnant wouldn’t be much fun.”

I’m about to argue because I like to drive. More accurately: I like to be the one in control so I’m not reliant on others. That’s how I’ve always been and my friends don’t even ask anymore – they just assume if we go somewhere, I’m the driver. But why put myself through the discomfort of driving when I don’t have to?

“Thanks,” I say finally. “What time?”

“How about we leave at nine so we can have a couple of stops on the way to stretch the legs?”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

“Trish?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll stick together, OK? You and me, we’ll look out for each other. Deal?”

My heart contracts. I learnt growing up I could never rely on my family. They weren’t going to help me cope with the school bully or study for a test or ask me how my day was. I was a member of a unit, not a family: a group of people who existed side by side with no connection. Till now.

“Deal,” I say with a choke.

“See you tomorrow,” Will says quickly and hangs up.

My father’s dead. And tomorrow I’ll see my mother for the first time in years. What’s she going to say when she sees me? What’s everyone at the funeral going to say? They’ll be whispering about me, staring. The errant daughter, pregnant out of wedlock with no father on the scene. I suppose my brother James will be there. Another person I’d hoped never to see again.

Ten minutes ago, I was feeling fairly happy with my life. Now, I want to dive under the covers and hide. Permanently.