‘Oi, but I thought you said you weren’t stalking me,’ she retaliated, jabbing him with her pen which he swiped out of her hand and tossed across the room.

‘Here. Have the last piece of toast,’ he said, changing the subject as he lifted the plate and put it in Grace’s lap.

‘Oh no thanks, I’m full up.’ She went to push the plate away.

‘Nonsense. You’ve barely eaten anything and sometimes you need to feed the soul, my sweet. And I’d say that time is now. Grace, my darling, you are withering away and those circles under your eyes tell me you aren’t sleeping at all. Come on, what’s really going on? Your gorgeous green eyes used to sparkle … is Cora being horrendous?’ He lowered his voice and lifted his eyes upwards to the ceiling. ‘You must be firmer with her. The no-nonsense approach is the only way, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, Jamie. I’m fine. I’m tired, that’s all. A few late nights …’ She looked away, knowing it was so much more than that and Jamie was her oldest and closest friend, but she also knew that if she went into it all now – Cora and the full extent of her care needs, what had happened with Phil – then there was no saying how she’d feel … she’d cry again for sure, and that wasn’t really fair on him. No, now was not the time for a pity party for one. In any case, she just didn’t have the energy for any more emotion.

‘But you’re not fine, Grace. Look, why don’t you put your feet up for an hour here on the sofa and I’ll go and keep your mother company for a bit. I can get her scratchcards and then encourage her to take a while going through them. You never know, she might hit the jackpot and you’ll have your ticket out of here … they do a very nice care package at the Treetops Residential Home over in Bromley on the outskirts of London. Costs a bomb, but why not if you can afford it?’ He nonchalantly lifted one shoulder to punctuate his point.

‘Honestly, you don’t need to do that.’

‘Yes I do! Grace, how long have we been friends?’ Jamie looked her square in the eyes with a determined look on his face.

‘Um, for ever,’ she said, ‘since we were children and you stole my dress-up shoes that time. I got them from a charity shop and had managed to hide them from Bernie and Sinead for ages … and then I caught you dancing around in the garden in them. Covered in grass stains they were when I got them back.’ She shook her head and laughed.