Tempting as that sounds, the idea of making polite conversation suddenly seems too much, and I wonder if I’ve made the right decision.

‘I expect you’d like to be on your own, really, but sometimes that bit of effort you don’t want to make can take the edge off your unhappiness,’ she says, and not for the first time I am amazed at her understanding.

We set off. Thea’s driving is calm and unhurried, if maybe a little too slow for the good folk of Manchester, and she gets more than one angry glare as someone overtakes, engine roaring. She is unruffled and I gradually feel some of the tension ease, although the ache of unhappiness is just as uncomfortable. Neither of us speaks for the first ten minutes, and I’m beginning to wonder if I’m being rude when Thea breaks the silence.

‘Did you tell Ian where you were going?’ she asks.

‘No. I don’t actually know, so it would have been difficult. But I could barely bring myself to speak to him.’

‘Well, that’s a good thing. At least he can’t come looking for you. Actually, dear, I’d be grateful if you wouldn’t tell anybody you’re staying with us. We had a bit of bother when we took in another young woman not too long ago. She had some problems, and we gave her a temporary home – a bit like you, really. A dreadful little tax man came round asking why we hadn’t declared any rental income. We told him she wasn’t paying us – and of course we don’t expect you to either – but he didn’t believe us. So he started an investigation. It cost us thousands in accountancy fees to demonstrate that we didn’t have a secret account we were hiding money in.’ Thea gives a little laugh, but I can see she’s not amused.

‘I’ve got nobody to tell, so don’t worry about that,’ I say.

She glances at me, and the car momentarily strays towards the centre of the road. ‘Friends?’

‘I thought I had, but based on their behaviour today in the office, I would say not.’ The thought is horrendous. I still have friends in London, and maybe I should think about moving back there. But for now I just need to get my head together. ‘Let’s see if any of them call and apologise for ignoring me,’ I say, with neither hope nor expectation.

‘That might be a problem, dear. We don’t get a mobile signal in the house or the garden. I hope that’s not going to be an issue for you?’