He’d know how to deal with the police for her. That rich father of his could hire a fancy lawyer to get her off this silly charge. She’d hardly had anything to drink. Their tests must have been wrong.

The most important thing now was to find a way to convince Tom that she’d changed, would give up the drinking and look after the children better.

‘Can I help you, madam?’

She swung round, saw someone in uniform and nearly freaked out, then realised it was a railway uniform, not police, and nodded towards the map. ‘I’ve never been to London before so I don’t know how to use the Tube. I need to get to this address.’ She held out the scrap of paper.

‘You’ve got posh friends if they live there.’ He fished a map of the Underground out of his pocket. ‘Keep this for future reference. Now, you take this line, change here and then get off and ask again when you arrive at this station.’

She nodded, repeated what he’d said and let him show her how to buy a ticket. Before she went to look for the platform, she slipped into the ladies’. A glance in the mirror made her stop dead, horrified. She looked terrible! Her clothing was crumpled, the remains of her make-up were smeared round her eyes and as for her hair, it was a greasy tangle. She went back outside again and found a store selling cheap T-shirts, bought herself a new one and went back into the ladies’ to change and do something about her hair.

Only then did she go to find a train. She leaned back with a sigh of relief as she sat down, keeping a careful eye on the stations they passed through until they got to the one where she had to change.

She got lost again, but a motherly woman showed her where to go and there wasn’t long to wait for the next train.

By the time Gail left the station, it was getting late.

She found an off-licence that was open and asked directions, then gave in to temptation and bought a bottle of whisky, just to give her confidence a boost, and a packet of mints to hide the smell of alcohol. She chose whisky because she didn’t really like the taste. It would be fatal to her plans to get drunk, but a sip or two would help calm her nerves.

Outside, she opened the bottle with shaking hands and pulled a face at the first mouthful, but she liked the warmth as it went down and soon she began to feel more relaxed.

It was only a mile or so, the man at the off-licence had said, so she walked, taking her time, looking at the increasingly large houses with envy.

When she got to Chestnut Lane, she was amazed at how huge some of the houses were. Talk about mansions! How unfair was that? Tom and the children living in a place like this while she was on her own in a tiny semi just down the road from an industrial estate. ‘Well, no more of it, Tom Prichard!’ she muttered. ‘You’re going to do your duty by me from now on. I’m your wife.’