They’d lunched together two days earlier, when Marjorie didn’t have long because she was trying to finish up a funding proposal before she began her maternity leave. They ate in a little café near Marjorie’s office.

Grace had been tinkering with the idea of talking through her uneventful sex life with Marjorie for a while, and Marjorie was sitting in front of her and she was so desperate for a ride it actually hurt her . . .

‘Marj?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘How do I get my husband to fancy me again?’

Marjorie nearly choked on a piece of cake.

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Have you had sex since . . . ?’

‘No.’

‘Because . . .’

‘We tried once. He couldn’t get it up.’

‘And that was?’

‘Two months after surgery.’

Marjorie pushed the cake away and drank from her glass of milk.

‘I’m desperate, and my ma is MIA, so . . .’

‘Have you spoken about it?’

‘Speaking about sex makes it worse, doesn’t it? It should be natural.’

‘Have you done the sexy underwear thing?’

‘Yes, I have a drawer full of it.’

‘Have you just grabbed him by the collar and had your way?’

‘No, that’s rape.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘What if he’s disgusted by me?’

‘He’s not – he couldn’t be, you look amazing.’

‘You’ve haven’t seen me.’

‘I’m looking at you right now.’

‘He couldn’t have sex with me, first time ever, and he watched me give birth to four big babies.’

‘He also took care of you after surgery, he bathed you, he plastered you in all those expensive creams, he took care of that infection around your port, he was there for the filling of your expanders, he saw the pain you endured and how delicate you were.’

‘You think he associates my breasts with pain?’

‘I think you have undergone something incredibly traumatic, both of you.’

‘You’re not as thick as you look, Marj,’ Grace said.

Marjorie smiled. ‘Coming from you, that’s a huge compliment.’