Claudia pressed the phone to her ear and listened intently. She didn’t like the way Bryony kept repeating what Claudia had said. She wasn’t alone.

‘Make sure you do,’ Claudia said with mock sternness that wasn’t all pretence.

Short on offers for alternative forms of amusement, Claudia slipped her mobile into the side pocket of her briefcase and strolled towards the high street. There were a number of exclusive boutiques nearby where she could fritter away Justin’s money for a few hours. He might baulk at the credit card bill at the end of the month, but what did he expect for leaving her on her own? And she was very much alone.

Noticing a gaggle of young mums that were bearing down on her, Claudia crossed the street, but not before she glimpsed chubby cheeks and tiny hands poking above the pram covers. The pang of loss made her heart clench. Justin kept reminding her that if they could get pregnant once, it would happen again, but Claudia didn’t share his confidence. The fire had taken so much from her, and she was still being punished. It wasn’t fair.

As she passed an estate agent’s window, her pace slowed. Only select properties deserved a window placement, and Phillipa’s stately pile took up half the display. Despite being on the market for only a matter of days, Claudia was surprised that it hadn’t been snapped up yet. If things didn’t happen soon, she would have to put in an offer herself – anything to ensure Phillipa’s speedy departure. Justin had said they couldn’t afford it, but they had talked about buying a house when they had a family and, if he was so sure that would happen, he should put his money where his mouth was. She could see herself living in a place like Phillipa’s. She would be harder to ignore.

As she stared at the window, Claudia caught her reflection in the glass and for a second, she glimpsed the girl she used to be, the one Justin had fallen in love with. Where had she gone?

In her formative years, Claudia was always known as the little girl without the mum, but at least it had secured the invites to the birthday parties, and she could always count on kindly neighbours to gift her money and clothes that obscured the neglect. She made sure she was one of the popular girls and, as her confidence grew, she had stopped relying on pity and strived for respect. Why had she been forced to go to extraordinary lengths simply to gain the approval of people she didn’t respect or care for? But, why did it always have to be a battle? Her reflection blurred. She could hear hurried footsteps drawing closer and a face appeared next to hers in the window. Reluctantly, she turned.

‘Hello, Karin. How are you?’

Karin was panting. ‘Can we talk?’