She flushed the toilet and dragged herself up, clinging to the towel rail until she was certain she wouldn’t faint. Then she returned to the front door to collect her bag of meds. A quick check of the living room clock told her she was overdue a dose of steroids, so she counted the pills as she walked to the kitchen: seven to start off with, reducing on a daily basis. She would be back at work before she got to five. Back to normal, doing her job and keeping her head down, trying not to bump into Rosie, not to call her or text her or think about her or—

She stopped short in the kitchen doorway, her hand poised to switch on the light. The sun played its part perfectly, though, choosing that instant to shine on the large bunch of flowers in the middle of the table. Rosie obviously hadn’t been able to find a vase, so she’d co-opted an orange B&Q bucket, no doubt tickled by the serendipity. Beside the flowers, she’d arranged boxes of microwave popcorn and a selection of DVDs. Venturing beyond the threshold, Jem found a veg rack full of fresh produce and a fridge newly stocked with essentials. A rolled pork loin beside the lasagne on the bottom shelf suggested a roast had been on the evening’s menu.

“Shit.”

She filled a glass with water, swallowing the tablets one by one in an effort to keep them down. Her mobile buzzed, and she knocked the glass against her lips, spilling water on her chin. It took her three attempts to enter her passcode, but the message was from her dad, not Rosie.

Hallo, sweetheart. Home safe and sound?

Her bottom lip began to tremble. She wanted to tell him everything, to sit by his knee and explain why she’d done what she’d done and how broken it had made her feel. He would only try to fix it, though. He was her dad, after all. He wouldn’t want to admit this was something beyond repair.

Home safe, she typed. All well.

It was a long time before she hit send.

Chapter Seventeen

“I don’t bloody know.” Rosie stabbed at a cherry tomato, sending it spiralling across the table. “I haven’t got a bloody clue. One minute we’re planning a day of crap films and popcorn, and the next she’s slamming the damn door on me.”

Kash carefully set the tomato back onto a lettuce leaf. He must have known there was more to come, because he stayed quiet, letting her continue.