“Then you’ll just have to have kids,” Kat clucked cluelessly. “It’s not too late.”

At this, Lubbi heaved himself up from the bench to drag away an unsympathetic Kat, snarling under his breath.

“Is that how you feel?” Micki asked, taking a step closer to Jeanette. “That your life was over when that slouch headed for the hills? Or snuffed it—whatever it was he did.”

“Jen lost her daughter before that,” Nanna clarified in a soft voice behind Jeanette’s head.

“Oh bloody hell,” said Micki. “Now I understand what just happened. Sorry, Jen. Really.”

“Thanks,” said Jeanette, taking a final drag and stubbing the cigarette out under her shoe. “Sometimes I feel like that, but not today. It partly depends how it settles in your brain—the booze, I mean.”

She took another swig from the wine bottle and put it back in her bag. Lubbi returned, pushing Kat in front of him.

“Sorry Jen,” she said dismally, gently touching Jeanette’s shoulder. “I didn’t know . . . You know I didn’t mean anything by it?”

Jeanette nodded.

“It’s fine,” she reassured her, whereupon Kat dejectedly slunk away and Lubbi sat back down on the bench.

“Your old man,” he said, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees so that he could look her in the eyes. “Your ex-husband, I mean. Are you still in touch?”

“No, we’re not. We text each other on Charlotte’s birthday, that’s all. And on her death day too,” she added more quietly, although she didn’t really want to think about it.

“You were married,” Lubbi argued. “You went through a tough time together. I don’t understand how he could let you go so completely. Why didn’t he try to help you get back on the right track, if you see what I mean. Does it upset you—me saying that? Should I shut up?”

Jeanette smiled at him. No, she wasn’t upset, and she didn’t want Lubbi to shut up. But his questions weren’t the easiest to answer.

“It was a mutual decision to go our separate ways,” she said in defence of her husband. “He couldn’t put up with me—seeing me in the state I was in—nor could I. It was me who was lying and deceitful and betraying and couldn’t look myself in the mirror. Or him in the eyes. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” said Lubbi without a hint of irony. “Perhaps it was your old man who got rid of him. Your lover, I mean.”

At first, Jeanette thought he was joking, but she saw from his serious expression that this wasn’t the case. Laughter bubbled up inside her, but she didn’t want to hurt Lubbi. Instead she looked down at her tightly clenched hands and took a couple of deep breaths.

“He’s a good person—my ex-husband,” she clarified. “I want nothing except for him to be happy. I set him free because he deserved that, because he deserved a new chance.”

Lubbi reached across Micki and put his hand on her knee. The warmth spread through the denim and into her tepid body.