‘Maybe. Can I just – chill out for a while, though?’ She gave another of her bleak smiles. ‘I know you’ve got the old Protestant work ethic, but I need to get my head together first.’

‘Do what seems right. Listen to your own body.’

Andi looked down. ‘Thanks for lending me some clothes. Maybe later, when you’ve finished writing, we could go and get my things?’

‘Of course. But we’ll go whenever you say, now if you like. I want you to feel comfortable and those are not really your style. The writing can wait.’

Andi nodded.

Her daughter seemed like a limp, two-dimensional version of herself. Sophie didn’t know what to do for the best, whether to hover nearby, or leave Andi in peace.

She’d found books to help her through the cancer, but she doubted there were any manuals for the mothers of young women who’d been raped. She felt so helpless, so angry.

Gail heard the knocking on the front door and rolled over in bed with a groan. She didn’t want to see anyone.

The letterbox flap rattled and a voice echoed up from the hall. ‘Gail? Are you there? Are you all right?’

Her mother-in-law!

She jumped out of bed and stared at herself in the mirror, shocked at how puffy her face was, but quickly dismissed the image. No one got up looking lovely. She’d not bothered to undress last night, thank goodness, but she’d had a few drinks of cheap plonk and her head was thumping.

‘Coming!’ She dragged a brush through her hair, flushing the toilet as she passed the bathroom to give herself an excuse for not answering immediately.

Opening the door, she forced a smile. ‘Mary. How are you? Come in.’

‘You took a long time to answer.’

‘I was using the toilet.’

Without asking permission, Mary walked through into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway so that Gail had to peep over her shoulder to see anything. How had the place got in such a mess with only her in the house?

Mary walked forward, eyes flicking here and there. ‘This is no way to live.’

Gail saw the empty bottle under the table at the same time as Mary did, but wasn’t quick enough to nudge it out of sight with her foot.

Mary held it up. ‘I thought you’d stopped drinking.’

‘It was just a couple of glasses.’

‘The bottle’s empty.’

Gail had no answer to that. There was another empty bottle up in her bedroom as well. It never seemed possible in the mornings that she’d drunk two whole bottles, but at night the wine slipped down easily, making all her troubles go away. She went to put the kettle on. She could never think properly till she’d had a cup of strong coffee.

Mary began clearing up, banging the plates down on the draining board and scraping the debris together.

‘Don’t! I’ll do that.’

But it was too late. Her damned mother-in-law had opened the waste bin and seen the other empty bottles Gail had meant to take out to the dustbin.