‘Just reading. Evelyn’s out somewhere with Jerry. In the interests of “establishing a better relationship”, as she puts it, which I interpret as finding out whether or not she really wants to have another baby with him and therefore whether or not to sleep with him. For purely mechanical purposes, of course.’

I heard the desolation in my friend’s voice and at the same time a distant police siren. In my mind’s eye I saw the blue light needling its way up the high street.

‘Penny, there’s nothing you can do about it.’

‘Nothing short of going round to his place with a paring knife and slicing his obtrusive balls off, you mean?’

‘Short of that, yes. I meant more that Evelyn will do what she wants to do’ – of course she would – ‘and all you can do is wait and let her know that you love her and Cassie. Evelyn’s not a fool,’ I concluded. I meant that she knew how much Penny loved her, but also that she would make the inevitable calculation about who was better placed to look after her and her child.

Penny let this pass. ‘We’ve got Cassie, at least,’ she said.

I thought of her childish fragrance under the quilt in the top bedroom and the cat’s-cradle structure of the gasometers outside her window. ‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘Goodnight, Pen. I just wanted to know you were there. And to let you know that I’m here.’

‘Thank you,’ Penny said.

I went round the house turning off the lights again. I made a cup of tea and took it upstairs, sitting on my bed to drink it with my knees drawn up against my chest. I wanted to draw everyone I loved best closer to me and I went through their names and faces in my mind like an incantation to ward off the unease. Jack and Lola, Tony, Mel, Penny and Cassie, Graham and Caz. And then, when I switched off the light and lay in the darkness, Ted was there, more strongly than ever, giving off his mixed scent of breezy citrus and male pheromones and indifference to my younger self.

All right, you too, I murmured. Wherever you are.

With the daylight, I forgot about my anxieties. Tony brought Jack home again at five o’clock in the evening. As soon as Jack came into the house I could feel his resentment gathered inside him like a black ball. Tony followed behind, accepting my invitation to come in for a cup of tea. Downstairs in the kitchen, Jack was already glaring into the depths of the fridge.

‘Did you have a nice weekend?’

‘There’s no cheese spread.’

‘No,’ I agreed.

‘I’m going upstairs.’

‘Don’t you want a cup of tea with Dad and me?’

‘No.’

‘Jack …’ Tony remonstrated but I shook my head at him.