It seemed I was finally to take my rightful place beside my husband. I’d been so right for so long in the eyes of the Church and now I would be right in the eyes of the law. John Johns had staked his claim: for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ’til death did us part. Life didn’t come into it, or so I thought. I had to hand it to him: he had found a foolproof way to overhaul communications between us without uttering a single word. I breathed in and put the kettle on; no point in trying to swallow anything without tea.

To my mind, Serena went far too happily to her new life in the new bedroom. Bridie and the blue roses were just next door any time she wanted a natter or a hug and she unpacked Bosco, Blue Ted, the Cabbage Patch Kid from hell, her pink gingham pyjamas and few auld dollies and let me know that she’d be just grand. She knew where me and Dada were if she needed us. I blanched at my transformation to an ‘us’. It had only taken John a matter of minutes to put the question of his fatherhood to bed. I’m the only daddy you’ll ever need, he said, with her little face cupped in his hands, and she had nodded very solemnly and got on with piling her bread high with rhubarb jam.

While she stayed on the ground floor with Bridie I was to join my husband underneath the sessile-oak eaves. He had spent the rest of the day moving his boxes of books and they stood along the wall in the kitchen. It seemed like years since I had taped them up instead of months. He gave me an hour to get what I wanted from the caravan as it was going to be towed away that very night. I might just stay in it now that my daughter didn’t want me and even Bridie had decided it was time for me to become an adult. I wanted to have a bit of a huff but no one was watching me. It was alright, no one could feel sorrier for me than I could for myself.