‘We thought sell it,’ Dad said firmly. He made his fabled face, the one with the jutting chin, which meant he was serious. It occurred to me dimly that we were having a very personal chat in front of Dan, but somehow, that felt fine too. It occurred to me, also, that Dan knew about Liam. Which was a huge tick. And that I could tell him about Andrew Parker. About what I’d done, and that he wouldn’t judge me. Wouldn’t be appalled. At how I’d ended the lives of two young men. That his sort of love would be unconditional. That he’d actually do anything for me. Which was what I needed.

‘There’s a nice young couple in the village, with small children,’ my father was saying. ‘They love the house and have asked us a couple of times. You know, to give them first option. If we ever decide to go.’ It was the first I’d heard of it, but then, it wouldn’t have been in my parents’ interests to tell me. Not when they were determined, with every fibre of their beings, to hang on to it. Now, of course, they were determined to go. So it was a different matter. ‘Unless you or Helena wanted it?’

‘But we don’t want you to feel obligated to live next door to us,’ Mum said quickly. ‘If you see what I mean. We’d love it, obviously. But we don’t need it. We’d be totally independent in that bungalow.’

I wasn’t really up to speed with this conversation. I tried to assimilate what they were saying but I realized I’d lost the thread, momentarily, so I had to ask Mum to repeat what she’d said.

‘I said, we could be completely independent, over there.’

‘For the minute,’ I replied, coming to. ‘For the minute, you’d be fine. But since we’re saying the unsayable, no one’s invincible.’ I forced a smile, but actually, it didn’t seem the effort it would have been an hour ago. Not half as bad as I’d thought. The fire behind my legs was lovely. ‘And maybe I would want to live here? Maybe you’d be hard pushed to get rid of me?’ I gazed around. Took in the faded chintz covers on the sofa and armchairs: the old velvet curtains, the worn Persian rugs. It was warm and familiar. And – yes, OK, that word again. Safe. Womb-like. It occurred to me, I really would like to be here, forever.

‘It’s a jolly nice house,’ Dan said appraisingly, glancing round. ‘Mum’s always been jealous.’