“Thank you, Annie, sorry, sorry, sorry,” Gemma sang as she grabbed up her belongings and headed for the door. “Take it out of my wages.”

“What wages? You mean you’re not working for free?”

Gemma laughed and pulled open the door, just as it began to start pouring with rain again. “Love you, bye!” she trilled, and was gone, leaving a wet patch where the rain had blown in.

Annie went to make herself a coffee before she began the cleardown. She had just slid the shortbread out of the oven when a message pinged through from Peter that sucked the wind right out of her sails.

Dad tells me you two might be getting back together? I don’t mean to be disrespectful mum but WTAF???

Annie felt dizzy; she rocked on the spot. What the actual fuck indeed! This was just like Max: If things didn’t go his way, he would simply reorder the facts as he wanted them to be. She texted Peter back with shaking fingers.

I’m sorry, darling. I don’t know what Dad was thinking but I can categorically assure you that a reconciliation is not on the cards! X

Peter texted back almost immediately. Thank God! I thought for a minute I was going to have to come down there and perform an intervention. What gave him the idea?

I can’t imagine. Do you know if he said anything to Alex?

Yes, he did. I’m acting as spokesperson as Alex has meetings all afternoon.

You’re not upset, are you?

No, mum. Don’t worry. We’d be more upset if you went back to something that doesn’t work for you. Love you x

Love you too. Sorry for the shock. Come visit me soon. xx

Annie stood stock-still, the phone still in her hand, her heart pounding with rage. She texted Max with shaking fingers.

How dare you tell the boys that we are getting back together!

A message came back immediately. I think there is still something worth saving and I know you do too. And I didn’t say we were getting back together for sure, I said we might be.

Annie was so angry she felt as though her head might explode. She called Max’s number. Of course, he didn’t pick up. When it clicked to his smooth voice mail message, Annie shouted, “We are not getting back together, give me my half of the assets, and give me a fucking divorce!” into the phone and hung up. She slammed her phone down on the counter.

“Wanker!” she yelled in frustration.

The door from the hallway opened.

“You called?” said John innocently.

His comedic timing instantly drew the sting out of her anger; she laughed, finding she couldn’t stop.

“Sorry,” she said, still chuckling. “That wasn’t aimed at you.”

“Makes a change,” he said, one eyebrow raised.

“I’ve never called you a wanker.”

“Not out loud, no.”