‘Leave me alone, Siobhan,’ says Becky slowly. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I am leaving you alone. Look at me. I’m filling my box. I am getting the fuck out of here.’

‘Matthew wants to know if you’d like a leaving drinks?’

‘Ha. Yeah, I don’t think so. I might have one too many and end up in a room with one of you poking me while the other swears blind that it isn’t happening.’

Becky slaps her open palm hard across Siobhan’s face.

Siobhan holds her own hand against her cheek like she is checking it is still there.

‘If you come after me, Siobhan, I will destroy you. Do you understand?’

Siobhan looks nothing but sad. ‘Of course I understand that. I know exactly who you are, Becky. But in this moment, I can choose to leave and there is nothing you can do about it. I will not be an accomplice in your stinking, fake success. I will not stand by and watch a film about a strong woman being made by a woman as weak as you.’ She looks down at her cardboard box. ‘I don’t even want any of this shit. Just send me my money.’ Siobhan throws her key-fob into the box, turns and leaves.

Chapter 27

When Becky gets home she locks the front door and closes all the windows. She sits cross-legged on the bed with her laptop open. Later Adam’s parents, Maisie’s grandparents, will come over to celebrate Maisie’s big day. They’ve agreed to do all her presents then. Becky loves Grandpa and Grandma T. She loves how much they love her daughter and she admires their calmness and their deep devotion to each other. Those are the foundations for a man as thoughtful and kind, as loving and generous, as Adam.

Becky turns over Adam’s arguments about Scott. The recklessness of confronting him. She knows he’s right, of course he’s right. She tries to picture the moment: Maisie discovering that Adam is not her father. The unknitting of an entire childhood. The destruction of half her story – who she got her sense of humour from, the shape of her nose, the bend of her calves, her intolerance for tree pollen, her capacity for hard work. This from Dad, that from Mum. The two halves that make her: all tainted, all broken.