That was half the trouble: nothing ever seemed to happen, it was as if her mother had become stuck somewhere out of the reach of normal life. Perhaps she was feeling stifled or submerged by the fear of anything like it happening again—or the horror of seeing herself in the mirror each day. She never talked about it, she didn’t complain or seem to fret or feel sorry for herself either. She just went through the motions of each day doing whatever she thought was expected of her, and no more.

“It’s driving me mad,” Claudia wailed into the phone when Andee rang again. “I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but it’s true. Sometimes I even want to shake her, or slap her to try and bring some life back to her, but of course I’d never forgive myself if I did. I’m never going to forgive myself anyway. It’s all so horrible, we’re going out of our minds in our different ways, and now Jasmine’s telling me she’s not going to college next year if we’re still like this.”

With a sympathetic murmur, Andee said, “You sound tired as well as strung out . . .”

“Actually, I’m better now than I was a few minutes ago,” Claudia quickly assured her. “I’ve done my mental exercises so I’m just sounding off, no danger of an explosion or rush for the pill jar.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“It never gets that bad,” Claudia babbled on. “I was just making a joke, but obviously not a funny one.” It did get that bad, but thankfully her exercises and conscience always managed to settle her down again. What on earth would her mother and Jasmine do if she wasn’t there to take care of them?

“Where is she now?” Andee asked.

“Richie’s just left, so I guess she’s back to doing the crossword with Henry. I don’t know how we’d cope without him. He’s so patient and it never seems to upset him that she doesn’t engage much, he just chats away as if everything’s normal, thinking up things to do that don’t run a risk of her being stared at. I swear if it weren’t for him I’d probably have lost it completely by now. Anyway,” she continued with a laugh, “I’m sure you didn’t ring up to listen to me ranting on like a lunatic, but if it’s about the bedspread for Angela Cairns—”