“No, Gran, that’s not true, and you know it. What Mum wants is for everyone to think we’re happy. It’s not the same thing. As long as she can convince the rest of the world that we’re a perfect happy family and that she’s some kind of superwoman, she doesn’t actually care what’s really going on. She’s never around long enough to find out anyway.”

There was a fragility beneath Phoebe’s contempt, her words skating on thin ice. She blinked hard and then swallowed, winding a strand of hair from the nape of her neck tightly around her finger.

Audrey took Phoebe’s free hand, stroked the back of it where the skin was softest, wishing she could tell her granddaughter that she’d got it all wrong. But the truth was that Lily had missed so much of Phoebe’s childhood: the school plays, sports days, music recitals, tennis matches. On so many occasions both Lily and Daniel had been too busy with work to attend, so Audrey had filled in for them, parental pride one step removed. And as much as Audrey had loved watching Phoebe run races, sing songs, hit a ball over a net, her enjoyment had always been marred by the guilt that Lily was missing those moments and that Phoebe was having to accept second best. So many times Audrey had wanted to say to Lily: Your children have only one childhood. The years in which they need you—in which they really need you—flash by like a star shooting through the sky. A blink of an eye and they go from babies to toddlers. Another blink and they’re starting school. A third blink and they’re teenagers, stretching their wings and preparing for life without you. And then, one day, when you’re certain it can’t have been more than a few months since you first held them in your arms—bloodied and mucus-coated, their hungry mouths reaching for your breast—they’re gone.

“No parent gets it right all the time. I know Mum’s got her flaws—we all have—but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you or isn’t interested in you. And it certainly doesn’t mean she’d ever disapprove of you, not really. Most parents can recover from pretty much anything their children throw at them.”

Audrey thought about Lily and Jess, about how, even when your children act in ways that break your heart, you still find it in yourself to forgive them.

“So what’s your advice? Just do whatever I want and to hell with the parental consequences?”

Audrey allowed herself a wry smile. “I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that. But without getting maudlin, you do have only one life and it’s only yours to live. All any parent can do is try to equip you as best they can—dig the foundations and give you the tools to build the kind of life you want to lead. The rest is down to you and your courage. And I think you’ve got bags of courage, Phoebe. I think you’ve got it in spades.”