Jumping from her bicycle outside Fran and Richard’s bungalow, she pulled the Tesco carrier bag from the basket and hurried up the path. Fran was her closest friend in the village, blissfully married to Richard, and loyal to the death.

Maddy pushed the kitchen door open. The children, as Fran had promised, seemed to have made an early departure for school, leaving a clutter of trainers, discarded folders, and sweet wrappers in their wake. Their father, Fran’s first husband, had been killed in a riding accident when they were only babies, and Tom and Chloe had welcomed Richard riotously when he and Fran had married two years ago. The whole village knew how much Fran now longed for Richard’s baby to complete their noisily cheerful family.

‘Kettle’s on and there are chocolate fingers in the tin,’ Fran called as Maddy stepped inside the kitchen. ‘Pour me a cup of coffee, Mad – black and no sugar. I’ll be with you in a sec.’

Maddy did. Fran’s kitchen was smaller than hers but at least it had the advantage of being kitchen shaped. Maddy’s was a maze of odd angles and dark corners. Fran hopped into the kitchen wearing one court shoe, still managing to look efficiently secretarial in a straight black skirt and striped blouse. Maddy’s working uniform was leggings and voluminous T-shirts in summer and leggings and voluminous sweaters in winter.

Fran looked at the carrier bag. ‘Oh, thanks for returning the dress and corset. I’ve heard all about the party.’

‘You can’t have.’ Maddy passed Fran her second shoe. ‘It’s too early.’

Fran wrapped her hands round her mug of black coffee. ‘Not for a jockey’s wife. Richard has three rides for Diana and Gareth today up at Haydock. Gareth was on the phone begging a lift – seems his hangover was a killer and he didn’t want to drive. Diana, of course, is taking the prestige meeting at Kempton. Anyhow, Gareth spilled the beans.’

Maddy, wondering which beans, sank down at the breakfast bench and built bridges with the chocolate fingers. Fran scuttled round collecting her car keys, cigarettes, make-up, and shopping list from the various surfaces. ‘Of course, being a man, he left out the interesting details. Like, how was Peter and more importantly, how did you react?’

‘Peter was as glorious as ever. You’ll be pleased to hear that I’m definitely out of love with him – but maybe not so delighted that I still fancied him like mad.’

‘Oh, God. But you stuck to your plan? You made him aware that you are now an independent career woman who doesn’t need a man? You did, didn’t you, Maddy?’

‘I think so. Anyway, Stacey was with him, which made it easier to be cool and distant.’ She looked at Fran. ‘Stacey calls him lambkin and wants to have his children.’

‘Jesus!’ Fran looked quizzically at Maddy. ‘You haven’t eaten any of those biscuits. You’re just playing with them. What’s up?’

‘Nothing.’ Maddy quickly dismantled the chocolate finger bridge.