‘It’s not about me. It’s your wedding day. You’re my best mate; he’s one of Josh’s best mates. Samir and me – it was over years ago. Five years. I’ve got time to get used to the idea of him having a girlfriend so I’ll deal, okay?’

‘No, I don’t think it’s a good—’

‘He’s coming and he’s bringing his girlfriend. End of story.’

Arrogant as she was, she’d thought she could handle it. She was Robin Lyons, single mother by night, scourge of the crims of Ladbroke Grove by day (schedule highly susceptible to change); what did she have to fear from an old boyfriend who’d proved himself unworthy?

When the day came, she’d spent it with her guts on fire. The register office had been manageable – short, structured; with a lurch, she’d seen him fleetingly outside but he hadn’t seen her – but the reception was something else.

They’d had it at Josh’s parents’ place in Edgbaston, a marquee pitched on the lawn, Hilary’s flowerbeds wild blurs of colour in Van Gogh brushstrokes, the sky a limitless kind of blue that Will, in loco parentis, referenced twice in his speech as a portent of things to come. The temperature had been in the high eighties but even with all the sides pinned up, it must have been a hundred in the tent, and completely airless – as she listened to Will, seated next to her at the high table so it felt as if everyone was staring at her, Robin had felt sweat gathering in bands around her middle. The Coast dress she’d had to open a store card to buy had seemed like a good idea in March – it had fitted then, too, before another three months of post-shift, exhaustion-driven takeaways – but when she stood up, sweat had seeped through the satin and made salty white lines. Upstairs in the bathroom mirror, the pouch of flab above her C-section showed so clearly she might as well have hired a town crier. Oyez, oyez, slut and unmarried mother; oyez.

He’d said four words to her that day – ‘Hello, how are you?’ – then moved away before she could reply. He hadn’t even looked at her. All afternoon and through the evening her eyes had found him in the crowd over and over but not one time had he been looking back. She’d moved into a different world: their lives had diverged completely. He was still young, here with his girlfriend; she was a matron, fast-forwarded to an adult world of nap schedules, childcare, Child Benefit. Responsibility.