But Maddy can’t help fearing the worst. The last time she saw Max keeps flashing into her mind. He was going to work as usual, rucksack over his shoulder. He kissed her goodbye for the first time in ages. He smelt so good it made her smile with longing. But now she thinks about it, as he opened the front door, he turned to glance back at her and there was that same lost look in his eyes as when she first met him. And he hesitated. Oh God. He’d stared down at the floor then back at her. He’d wanted to tell her something. Why hadn’t she picked up on it? Damn! She should have talked to him while she’d had the chance to, but hadn’t wanted to make him late for work.

‘So that’s it, if they don’t find him, they just give up?’

‘They said there is nothing more they can do. A scarf was found by the riverbank. They think it’s his, but I can’t say for sure. Black, M&S, how many men have one of those?’ Maddy pours boiling water into the mugs and stirs in milk. ‘They said…’ Maddy’s voice breaks, ‘…his body may never be found.’

‘Oh Maddy, that’s awful. Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘Not really but thank you. You know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. Sometimes I wonder how I’d cope without you.’ She’s helped her contact all their friends to let them know what’s happened. She thought it would make the national news, but apparently some bloke falling off a bridge is too ordinary to be newsworthy.

‘You’re more than welcome. We love having Emily over. She’s no trouble.’

‘Except for the bed-wetting.’ Maddy is grateful for her help but she wonders if Sarah would be as accommodating if Greg hadn’t left her. Sometimes she feels like she is Sarah’s project to distract her from meeting a new partner.

‘It’s not every time. It’s fine, really, you know I don’t make a fuss.’

She’s read Sarah’s article on her blog. She knew it could happen in older children when they suffer a trauma like bereavement, especially someone close like a sister, but she didn’t know it could carry on for weeks. ‘She loves going to yours. You seem to understand her better than I do sometimes. We’re not always on the same wavelength.’ Maddy places the coffees on the table.

‘Don’t be so tough on yourself. We’ve talked about this a million times – you were ill when she was born – you missed a great deal of those crucial first weeks together.’

‘She blames me about Max, I know she does.’ Maddy sighs.

‘I’m sure she doesn’t.’ Sarah strokes Maddy’s arm.

‘I know he’s never forgiven me for… you know.’