Their words ran out and suddenly it was quiet. Repelled, Katie turned and stuffed her things into her little suitcase. Vera stood back to let her past. She didn’t follow Katie as she went down the stairs, put on her wet boots again, picked up her umbrella and walked out into the night.

It seemed to take forever to get to Kings Heath, though it was not very late. She felt punch-drunk and unable to think straight. On the bus she found herself wondering whether Vera had taken the carrots off the stove or whether they had boiled dry. This made the tears come again, but she tried to swallow them down, not wanting to cry in front of strangers.

At Simon’s door she prayed he would answer, and not one of the Welsh lads. It took her several minutes to get up the courage to knock, and when she heard footsteps in the hall she thought she might faint with fright.

Simon’s face appeared round the door, squinting into the gloom.

‘Squeak!’ he exclaimed. ‘How lovely to see you, darling!’ Katie was sure the cheerful welcome sounded forced, but then she had taken him by surprise.

‘Can I come in?’ she asked huskily.

‘Well, of course you can.’ He stood back and she passed him, not sure if he had noticed the holdall in her hand. ‘So I take it you can’t keep away from me?’

The hall was dimly lit and the house sounded quiet. She took a breath, even opened her mouth to tell him, but instead said, ‘I – I’ve had a bit of a falling-out with my mother. Can I stay here tonight?’

‘Ah!’ Simon laughed, sounding relieved. ‘I did wonder what the luggage was all in aid of. Of course you can, Squeaky. I know what you mothers and daughters are like. Come on in, I was just having some supper. Bangers – d’you want some?’

‘No, it’s all right, I’ve had mine,’ she lied. In any case she could not have eaten: her stomach was churning like a maiding tub.

She sat opposite Simon and accepted a cup of tea as he tucked into his sausage and mash, looking as handsome as ever, but completely unaware of her misery.

Just look at me, she thought. Look at me properly. But he was too busy tucking in.

‘I’ve been over to Coventry today – see about a new customer. That’s why I wasn’t in.’ He took a swig of tea. ‘What sort of day’ve you had – old Misery-Guts behaving herself?’

Katie told him a few bits and pieces about the office. She was sure Mrs Crosby knew that she and Simon were involved with each other – the woman seemed to have second sense. But though she gave Katie long, meaningful stares, there was nothing she could say. As they talked about the day-to-day life of the firm, and Katie tried to be as normal as possible, the day’s upset and even the reality of the baby faded a little into the background. It became more and more impossible to begin the conversation. She knew she was putting it off again. Mother would calm down, she could go back home . . .