But while the white paint is greying and peeling, especially in the corner that was damp all winter, the vibe of our home is cosy and safe. It smells deliciously of Dad’s cooking—his carbonara, if I’m correct—and it’s spotlessly clean. My parents are as protective of me as they are of Tabby, and it looks like some serious housework has gone down while I’ve been out.

I’m scrupulously tidy myself—if we’re going to live in a little box in a dodgy building in a dodgy neighbourhood, then I’m damn well going to make sure it’s immaculate—but I know it’ll only be a matter of time before the housework starts to pile up, given the intensity of this job.

My parents may not know exactly what my new gig entails, but they know it’s a step up from my last role, and they also know it’s a necessary part of the funding for Tabby’s op. They can sense I’ll need extra support, even if I don’t ask for it.

And, on day one, they’re already stepping up.

All of it should make me happy: the clean kitchen; the card game; the delicious food that awaits me; the contented faces. I should be ecstatic as Tabby launches herself out of her chair and flings her little body against me. Mum’s religious about her changing out of her uniform after school, so she’s in white daisy print shorts and a lemon-yellow T-shirt with a huge daisy appliqué on the front.

And I am ecstatic; I am. I hug her back and pepper the top of her blonde head with effusive kisses. I’m delighted to see her, delighted to be home.

But it’s as if I’m viewing my daughter and my parents through a veil of sorts. Because while they’ve been carrying on with their wholesome, innocent days of learning and childcare, of housework and family time, I’ve been permitting a man I barely know to buy me tens and tens of thousands of pounds’ worth of clothes. I’ve allowed him to get me on my knees, to order me about, to put his dick in my mouth and in my pussy in the aggressive splendour of his office, and in return I’ve taken his money. Gladly.

So forgive me if knowing that the three people I love most in the world are ignorant of the depths I’ve plumbed in the name of money is horrifying rather than reassuring.

Don’t get me wrong. They can never know.

I just wish I didn’t have to sell my soul quite so comprehensively to ensure my daughter’s future.

CHAPTER 23

Brendan