Her mother gave her a strange look, as if she were being deliberately thick, then plunged a pan into the water. Puzzled, Robin turned and put Humpty back where he’d always lived, next to Luke’s egg cup, which was shaped like the bottom half of a chicken, a white cup supported by claw-like yellow feet. The strange, tender feeling still lingered, and to get rid of it, she thought of getting his cup out, asking Christine if it reminded her of Natalie. But then, she thought, even if it did, her mother wouldn’t be mean enough to say so. Unlike her.

Christine pulled the plug, rinsed the sponge and started cleaning the work surface in neat stripes.

She’s a human being, too. Will you try and remember that?

She should try and talk to her, shouldn’t she? That’s what people did with their mothers, shared what was on their minds.

Give her a chance.

‘Mum,’ she said, ‘I don’t think Len likes Savvy’s. Has she mentioned it to you?’

Christine tapped the toaster and swept the fallen crumbs into her cupped hand. ‘No. She’s more likely to talk to you, though, isn’t she?’

‘I don’t know. Normally, yes, but in this case, I’m worried she doesn’t want to make me feel bad.’ A swoop in her stomach at the leap of faith: usually she’d do anything to conceal vulnerability from her mother.

‘Well, it must be very hard for her, don’t you think? Going from that lovely school with playing fields and a swimming pool to an inner-city comp? It’s not much above a sink school, really, Savvy’s. That’s why we had to send Luke private, even though it meant a lot of sacrifices.’

Robin thought of Kev in the middle of his enormous scrapyard, king of every rusting heap he surveyed. ‘They do have successes, though, Savvy’s. Kevin Young …’

‘Kevin Young had a family business to go into.’

She took a deep breath. ‘That’s true. But he’s grown it – it’s huge now.’

Christine said nothing, her back turned as she straightened the salt and pepper grinders, scrubbed at a spot Robin couldn’t see.

In for a penny. ‘What would you do, if you were me?’

A pause, unremarkable unless you’d seen it a hundred times before. Her mother seemed to gather herself, as if she were drawing on a malign energy source, undergoing a transformation. When she turned, her eyes were hard. ‘I wouldn’t be in the situation in the first place,’ she said. ‘The job I can’t talk about but Adrian – we thought he was a nice man. The twice you let us meet him.’

‘Yes, I know. He is.’

‘What are you looking for, Robin? That’s what I don’t understand. Wasn’t he good enough for you?’

Why do you think you deserve better? What makes you so special?