Briony lay in the bed alone, her head thumping. She closed her eyes tightly to stem the pain. She could hear the sounds of the household coming from below, the heavy tread of Mrs Horlock on the stairs, and the rattling of crockery. Her bedroom door was pushed open and the tray of tea was placed on her night table. Without a word the older woman went to the heavy curtains and opened them, letting in the weak sunshine.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Briony’s voice was low and angry.

‘What’s it look like? You deaf now as well as stupid?’

Mrs Horlock bustled to the bed and began pouring out the strong tea. Kitchen tea, thick and black, which she knew Briony loved.

She squinted up at the woman and said: ‘What did you just say?’

Mrs Horlock laughed loud. ‘So, the dead arose and appeared to many! My God, you look terrible. Worse than a Saturday night whore on Monday morning. How long are you going to keep this up?’

Briony was blinking her eyes rapidly and straining to keep her temper.

‘Keep what up?’

‘Drink your tea.’ She thrust out the white china mug, spilling a few drops on the bedspread.

Briony sat up in bed and, taking the mug, slammed it down on to the bedside table.

‘Keep what up, I said? Answer me, woman!’ Raising her voice made her wince and she held on to her head gently. ‘Oh, piss off, I ain’t in the mood.’

‘Look at you, Briony. You look a disgrace. You’ve bags under your eyes big enough for me to get me weekly shopping in. Your skin’s in a terrible state, no doubt due to your drinking like a fish and eating like a bird. You was thin before, fashionably thin, now you’re like a scrawny cat! Even your hair’s in rat’s tails. And don’t think you can talk to me any way you like because you can’t. I’ve put up with your bad mouthing for the last month, and all I can say is, grow up!’

Briony sat up in the bed, stunned.

‘How dare you...’

‘I dare, young lady! I dare. Because you might be Miss Big out there, but to me you’ll always be a child. You’ve drunk yourself stupid now for over a month. Out ’til all hours, coming in roaring drunk and upsetting the whole house. Arguing with Tommy like a demented woman.’

‘This is my house...’

Mrs Horlock stuck her face close to Briony’s and cut off her tirade.

‘Well, you might just find yourself all on your own in it if you’re not careful. Because you pull another stunt like you did last night and we’ll all bugger off!’

Briony racked her brains to remember the night before. ‘What happened last night?’ Her voice was low now, bewildered.