“I have several naked photos, but they’re in the drawer by my bed, not in the boxes. Now sit down and let’s enjoy the tea while it’s hot. I’m parched. And I wouldn’t say no to a chocolate-chip cookie.”

Clare poured the tea, and made a mental note never ever to go in her mother’s drawers. “When did you find time to sort through all those photos?”

“Last winter, when we were snowed in. It was very cosy. Just me, a large whisky and all those memories.” Her mother selected the box on top and put it on the table next to Clare. “These are early photos of you and Becca. There are some of that year the two of you camped in the garden. Do you remember?”

She remembered. “Becca hated the insects. She crept into the house in the middle of the night and slept in the living room.”

“She was a girl who always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it.”

“That’s true. She always said that no one was going to give her anything so she had to just take it.” Clare forced herself to open the box. Nerves fluttered in her stomach. Was this going to make her feel worse or better?

“She had a difficult start in life. No child should grow up feeling unwanted.”

Clare wasn’t going to argue with that. She flipped open the first album and smiled. There was Becca, aged seven, a fierce look in her eyes as she’d urged a donkey on to greater speed.

“Look at her face. She was competitive even when she was riding a donkey. I always felt so inadequate. There were times when I wondered if she hung out with me because she knew she could beat me at most things.”

Her mother put her cup down. “Clare—”

“It’s true.”

“I know she made you feel that way, and because we’re being honest I’m going to tell you that I found it so frustrating. She made you feel bad about yourself. And you let her.”

“I—”

“You let her, Clare. You didn’t stand up for yourself. You didn’t say what you wanted from the friendship. It was all about keeping Becca happy. You were so shy when you were little, and having Becca in your life brought you out of yourself so for a while I was pleased, but then I saw that she didn’t really bring you out of your shell, she kept you there. And you were so anxious to be her friend, so afraid she’d reject you, that you allowed her to behave however she pleased with no rules or boundaries. You let her dominate you. Honestly? I think you were a little afraid of her. It was a very unbalanced friendship. Your father and I often talked about it.”

“You—you did?”