Lizzie takes her mug into the office and turns on the computer. She’s not even logged in before the office door bursts open and Tess enters. ‘Ah, good, there you are. I’ve set you up a meeting with our fabby liaison officer.’ Before Lizzie can protest, a rowdy policewoman barges in and slams down a folder. She’s a rectangle on legs that look like ham hocks. Her face is a balloon about to pop. Lizzie is instantly concerned about her cholesterol levels.

‘Proof. Proof that men do it again and again. You have the power to stop it happening to someone else. You, Lizzie. Don’t let the bastard win. You’re no coward.’

Lizzie finds it ironic that this bully has been employed to help stop bullies. Everything about her screams barely repressed hatred, disguised with a Lego haircut and shiny metal-capped boots, worn, no doubt, to kick any man who dares step within a metre of her. Lizzie wonders who hurt her.

She rants at Lizzie. Promises protection for her and Lenny. A new name, a new life. A new start.

Lizzie tells Rowdy she’ll think about it. Rowdy doesn’t understand what there is to think about and tells her as much, tapping blunt square nails on the files she’s brought. To her it’s simple, and Lizzie is testing her patience. No doubt she’ll go home and moan about Lizzie to anyone who will listen, or to Tess. She imagines how the conversation will go, ‘Some people don’t want to be helped.’

She knows Rowdy and Tess have had words about her and her reluctance to talk. She knows these sessions will carry on until she caves in. It’s exhausting, staying strong. Every muscle stretched taut, ready for an attack. Sink or swim. Fight or flight. Rowdy urges her to start the process soon, before the scars fade. Lizzie wants to tell her there’s no chance of that.

By the time Lizzie goes to get Lenny she’s desperate for him. For that Marmite smell, the feel of his hair under her chin when she holds him. She grabs him and breathes him in, like oxygen.

‘Mum, you’re squashing me!’ Lenny pulls away and stares at her. ‘It’s only been, like, six hours.’ His words hurt Lizzie, who has watched the clock arm make every slow rotation after Rowdy left, waiting for the hour that would bring her boy back to her. She briefly wishes he’d catch a cold and they could lock themselves together in their room with a DO NOT ENTER – CONTAGIOUS sign on the door.

No chance of that, though. Lenny is full of life. He runs around with Maud, trying to teach her to tackle. Maud gets the ball a couple of times, and tears off across the grass with it, Lenny on her tail. Sometimes literally.