‘Happy now, Linda?’ It was five to one. I didn’t ask her permission, just grabbed my bag and stomped towards the door.

As I pulled the handle, there was a push from the other side.

Only her shoe was visible at first.

Patent. Perfect height. Not slutty, not frumpy.

The gap widened. Camel wool and the smell of jasmine spilt into the room. Head dropped, I pulled my scarf up to my eyes. Violently coughing, to make her turn away in disgust. She raised her arm high to open the door for me. I dipped under.

‘Hello. I’m here to see Dr Stevens.’

The door slipped between us, then slammed shut.

The rest took place only in my mind as I walked to Edward’s. Your excitement at seeing her. Touching her belly. The child you now loved and feared for so much. The slipping of her wrist under her sheet of hair to manoeuvre it out of her perfect face. The kiss. Introductions. The love that emanated from you both that everyone would say was so romantic.

It was hard to tell if it was the gift of tinned prunes and posh cheese or seeing me that made Edward so elated. But as we scoffed our sandwiches with a cup of tea, which he complained was cold, he paused, placed his butty down onto the Sixties brown crockery and pulled out a paisley hanky. I presumed it was to wipe off the mustard paint-brushed across his cheek, but he pressed the crumpled silk into his face and said, ‘I didn’t realize how lonely I’d been for so long until you stopped visiting last week.’ He did one final press onto his eyes before returning the now darkened square to his pocket, saying, ‘You’ve gone a bit overboard on the mustard.’

‘I missed you too, Edward’ – we simultaneously took bites from our bread – ‘but listen, I can only pop in at lunch again tomorrow. It’s my birthday and Dale reckons he’s making me a dinner.’

He looked confused. ‘But it’s not your birthday.’ Before I could ask what he meant, he spoke again. ‘Oh . . . sorry . . . I . . . It’s your birthday? My goodness, how marvellous. You must bring cake. We shall wear hats. No, I’ll wear a hat. For you, I have a tiara.’

Being with Edward meant I forgot everything for a while. I even managed a laugh at his story about Maxine catching him giving her the finger behind her back.

‘That’s the problem with being so old, Constance. One’s reflexes aren’t what they were.’

But as soon as his front door shut behind me, my mood returned to its darkened state.

Knowing you had an appointment at one thirty with Mrs Towers, I waited until ten minutes after that before returning to ensure Laura’s departure.