I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you or the girls. You must know that.

Lily snapped open her eyes, unfurled her clenched fists, and blinked against the memory. Hurrying across the landing into her bedroom, she swiped open her phone and tapped out a message to Phoebe.

Where are you? I’ve just popped home to get changed. I’ve got a last-minute work dinner tonight, but I shouldn’t be too late.

Heading into the small dressing room attached to her bedroom, Lily unzipped her dress as a message pinged on her phone.

I’m at the audition. With Gran. Not that you remember, obviously. Gran’s supposed to be coming for dinner afterward and you’re SUPPOSED to be picking us up. But I guess none of that’s happening now and I’ll just have to tell Gran that you’ve stood her up yet again.

Lily frowned. She opened the calendar on her phone, scrolled through the day’s appointments, could find no mention of her mum coming for dinner. She swiped through the rest of the week and there it was, under tomorrow’s date, staring at her accusingly.

I’m so sorry, darling. I’ve put the wrong date in my diary. I thought it was tomorrow. Can you apologize to Gran for me and tell her we’ll still see her for lunch on Sunday? I hope the audition goes well. Klaudia should have left some supper in the fridge so make sure you eat something when you get home.

Stepping into an almost identical black dress to the one she’d just put in the laundry basket and smoothing the material over her hips, worrying that perhaps it was a little tighter than it had been when she’d last worn it and making a mental note to add an extra weekly gym session to her diary, she turned toward the empty rail on the opposite side of the dressing room. Less than a month ago it had been filled with Daniel’s suits and shirts, ties and T-shirts, sweaters and jeans. Now the hangers swayed on the rail as if unsure whether they’d been liberated from their burden or were bereft of purpose. She glanced down at her phone, opened her private email account, and reread the last message she’d sent Daniel the previous evening.

I know you’re really busy and it’s frantic there at the moment, but it would be really good to get dates in the diary for when you’re coming home for the weekend. Phoebe misses you. We both do. I hope work’s going well. Speak at the weekend. L xx

Lily checked the trash folder, in case Daniel’s reply had somehow got mislaid, but the only messages in there were emails about marketing conferences and magazine subscriptions. She exited her Sent items, her eyes flicking down over the contents of her account. And there it was, staring at her: the folder containing all the emails she had written to Jess over the years, none of which had ever been answered.