It was against every fibre in Lou’s body to back down from an argument, especially with Stephen – they could pull each other’s strings without even trying. But she should make allowances. Stephen was lashing out, and boy, didn’t he have every right to?

‘Well?’ he pressed. ‘What is it? Two hundred quid a week?’

Don’t take the bait. Don’t take… ‘I … I –’

‘Not much to show for three years at your precious university, is it? Waste of fucking time.’

‘What’s that got to do with this?’

‘Nothing. Everything. Going off there. Thinking you’re better than the rest of us.’

Don’t Lou, don’t … ‘At least I had ambition.’ The words exploded from her mouth, leaving hear brain staring on in disbelief.

Stephen retaliated instantly. ‘And ambition pays the bills, does it?’

‘It’s not my fault a checkout assistant doesn’t get paid as much as a plumber. I pay my way as best I can.’

‘Oh, yeah, because the fifty quid you bung in the kitty every month goes a long way to paying the rent and the gas and the electric and the council tax and the food and the water.’ He counted off each bill on his fingers with increasing emphasis. ‘And it puts trainers on his feet and clothes on his back.’ He flicked his head towards the kitchen. ‘But don’t you worry, Lou, you stick your brainy head in the sand and leave the rest of us to do what we have to to get by. Because a plumber’s wages really covers all of that, doesn’t it? Along with everything else.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Forget it.’ Stephen started to walk away but suddenly turned back. This time, he glared at Lou. ‘You know your problem, don’t you? You live in Cloud fucking Cuckoo Land. Always have, always will.’

‘Who the hell are you to judge me and my life? I’m not the one who ran out on my fiancée the month before our wedding and came crawling back here because I couldn’t face up to the commitment.’

‘Like you’d get the chance to run out on anyone. No one in their right-mind would take you on.’ A horrible smirk darkened Stephen’s face. ‘You know, I pity the bloke that ends up lumbered with you. He’ll have to be mad. Or a saint.’

Lou dug her fingernails into her palms. Why did they have to do this? Why couldn’t they speak to each other like normal human beings and find a way to comfort each other? ‘I’m trying to be nice today. I was going to make dinner and maybe put the Christmas tree up and –’

‘Don’t bother. A few fucking baubles aren’t going to bring her back, are they?’

At last! There it was. He did blame her. And while the secret of her guilt hung over them all, nothing could ever be resolved. ‘I’m going to tell Dean,’ she said.

But as she made to leave, Stephen grabbed her arm again. ‘No, you’re not.’