“You’ve got a dark side, Marianne,” said Annie. “My kitchen is in good hands. The staff will never dare to cross you.”

As she ate breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Annie complimented herself on how well she was handling everything. She felt fine, she really did. And then she got back to the hotel room and found ten missed calls, seven texts, a dozen messages on Facebook Messenger, and an e-mail—all from Max. Annie didn’t read them. She was suddenly very tired. She didn’t want to think about all the things she was supposed to be thinking about: the business, finances, the twins, Max, Ellie, the end of her life as she knew it. Annie turned the volume on her phone down low and got back into bed, where she stayed for the next three days.

—

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She let it buzz until it stopped. And then it buzzed again immediately. Annie sighed, reached languidly over, and looked at the screen. It was Peter. She answered it.

“Hello, love,” she said.

“Hey, Mum,” said Peter. “Alex is here with me. We’ve got you on speaker.”

“Hi, Mum,” said Alex.

“Hello, darling. Where are you?”

“At mine,” said Peter.

“I came down after work,” said Alex. “I can work from here tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Annie.

“Well, we heard we’d become the product of a broken home, so . . .” His sentence was cut short by a scuffling sound followed by an aggrieved “Ouch!”

“We’re calling to tell you we support your decision,” said Peter.

“Should have done it years ago!” said Alex.

“Oh!” said Annie. “Well. This is unexpected. Who told you?”

“Grandma,” said Peter.

“Of course she did,” said Annie.

Max’s mother would have been champing at the bit to tell the boys before Annie got the chance. She imagined her mother-in-law as an aging racehorse in a twinset, leaping over her mahogany nest of tables and upsetting the faux Tiffany lamp to get to the phone. It was no wonder Max was such a prima donna; whatever his faults were, as far as her mother-in-law was concerned, they were down to somebody else.

“I’m sorry you had to hear it from someone else,” Annie continued. “I was going to call you, I was just . . .” Sleeping mostly, she thought. “I was just getting my head together a bit and then I was going to tell you.”

“We know about Dad’s affairs, Mum,” said Alex.

“Oh God!” said Annie. “Really? How?”

“Er, we’re not stupid,” said Peter. “We’ve known for years.”

“Years? Oh God!” Annie groaned. “I am so sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” asked Alex.

“I’m sorry that you found out,” said Annie. “You were children. Children shouldn’t have to deal with their parents’ shit.”

“Like I said,” said Peter. “We weren’t stupid.”

“Of course you weren’t,” said Annie. “I was the stupid one.”