‘Actually, I came up to suggest that we go this afternoon. I can come with you, do some shopping in town while you deal with the building society, and then I can wait while you go and see how things stand with Ian. How does that sound?’

‘You’re too kind,’ I say. ‘But you don’t have to trail in with me. I’m sure you have things you would rather be doing.’

Thea gives me a smile. ‘It’s no trouble. I’d like to come with you, and you might be feeling a bit shaky after last night.’

I’m beginning to get irritated with my indecision and how passive I seem to have become. I’m thirty-two years old. I shouldn’t be so pathetic, but I’m struggling to battle my way out of this indolence.

‘I’m fine to drive, thanks, but if you need something from town and you really don’t mind waiting while I try to talk to Ian, it would be good to have your company.’

Thea nods and turns towards my kitchen, beckoning me to follow her.

‘I thought you might need a bit of a pick-me-up after last night, so I’ve brought you some lovely home-made soup. I don’t suppose you’ve eaten today, have you?’

She’s right, of course. I haven’t. It seemed like too much effort, and although I’m hungry I prefer hunger to going to the trouble of making something to eat. I realised today that I have been losing weight. I don’t have much to lose, but my jeans seem loose.

‘Sit down, dear.’ She grabs a bowl from the shelf and a spoon from the drawer and then opens the Thermos and tips the contents out. The soup smells wonderful. It’s a deep orange colour and I presume it’s carrot soup, but Thea tells me it’s roasted butternut squash.

‘Roasted with onions and garlic, then blended with stock and a hint of curry powder.’

My mouth is watering, and I take my first spoonful. It’s delicious – packed with flavour – and I begin to feel better. Thea sits and watches me eat, telling me in a jokey voice that I have to be a good girl and eat it all up or we won’t be going out today.

I know she’s teasing me, treating me like a child, but somehow I get the sense that she might mean it. So I eat every spoonful, and she’s right. I feel so much better – energised and raring to go.

‘Come on then,’ Thea says. ‘Let’s seize the moment while you’re feeling so positive.’

I grab my bag and jacket and follow her downstairs. My boots are looking very clean and I feel another pang of guilt for my suspicions the day before. How could I have imagined even for a moment that my boots had been taken?