In need of a psychological detox? it says beneath his photo. Join motivational speaker and anxiety survivor Tom Wade aka SoulShrink in a beautiful, wooded hideaway in the heart of Snowdonia. Learn how to heal your trauma, free yourself from anxiety and face the future with optimism rather than fear.

It’s not the first time she’s read that description but, unlike the last time, when she felt incredulous and angry, now all she feels is irritated.

She swipes back to her mum’s messages and taps on the call icon. Geraldine answers almost immediately.

‘Finally!’

No mention of the last time Fran visited, no apology for the outburst or swilling her with tea. It’s the first time they’ve spoken. There have been texts, lots and lots of texts, but Fran’s dad Henry was the one who broke the news, slowly and stiltedly, about Geraldine’s fall.

‘I’m at work,’ Fran says. ‘I was teaching. You can’t just bombard me with texts and expect an immediate reply.’

‘It was an emergency.’

Fran unlocks the door and checks for feet beneath the cubicle next door. ‘You falling and breaking your hip was an emergency. The texts you just sent are emotional blackmail.’

‘The retreat cost me two thousand pounds.’

‘That was your decision. I told you not to book it.’

There’s a sharp intake of breath then. ‘How else was I going to get to speak to him?’ She pauses long enough to let the unspoken sink in: You didn’t find his address on the internet. ‘And besides, it wasn’t my fault I broke my hip. I’ve told your father on countless occasions to put his slippers on his side of the bed when he retires for the night. But does he listen? No. He probably left them at the end of the bed in the hope that I would trip and fall.’

‘Well you didn’t die, did you?’ Fran catches sight of her reflection in the mirror and stops speaking. It’s ridiculous – she’s ridiculous. She’s a fifty-one-year-old teacher having an argument with her seventy-three-year-old mother, during a free period at work, in the staff toilet.

‘I haven’t got time for this,’ her mum snaps. ‘Just tell me you’ll go. I know you can make it. It’s during your half term. I looked it up on the school website.’

Fran leans against the sink unwilling, or unable, to look at her own reflection for a second longer. ‘Did it occur to you that I might want to spend half term doing something fun rather than going on some godawful retreat full of whingers, hypochondriacs and attention seekers? Not to mention—’

‘That’s not very nice.’

‘What’s not nice?’

‘Calling people whingers and attention seekers. Jenna went on a retreat.’

Fran rubs a hand over her face. ‘I know, Mum.’

‘And we won’t get anywhere if you walk in with that attitude.’