‘Why don’t they want to do marvellous things with their lives?’ I complain as I stomp up and down the kitchen on my crutches. ‘Why are they happy to settle for mediocrity? Why do they have no ambition for themselves? Why do we not expect more from them?’

‘You do.’

‘Then why are they happy to do nothing but drink and go to nightclubs in unsuitable clothing?’

‘Perhaps it makes them happy,’ my husband suggests.

Greg could at this point remind me that I got my injury by drinking whilst dressed in an unsuitable manner. But he doesn’t. I’m sure if he’d thought of it then he would.

‘Then it shouldn’t make them happy,’ I retort in full rant mode. ‘It should make them miserable. They shouldn’t be content with dead-end partners, dead-end jobs and dead-end lives. They should want to . . . fly!’

My husband looks at me as if I’m mad. Which, perhaps, I am. ‘Stop trying to make them discontent.’

‘I’m trying to make them ambitious.’

‘It’s the same thing.’

‘Okay then, maybe a bit of discontentment is necessary to get people off their backsides and achieve something with their lives. When did you ever see a content person rule the world? Does the person who is happy to sit on the riverbank of life ever scale the dizzy heights of Everest?’

‘That sounds like it came from one of those fortune cookies that the Hong Kong Garden give away.’

‘I’m trying to think more deeply about my life.’

‘That’s fine, but don’t expect the rest of us to do it. We’re not all like you.’

‘Well, you should be.’

‘If you’re such a great role model, what were you doing getting blind drunk and falling off a ladder just the other week?’ He looks pointedly at my cast.

Ah. He hasn’t forgotten that, after all.

‘That was a one-off,’ I mutter, wind gone somewhat out of my sails. ‘I don’t do it every weekend.’

‘And neither do your children.’

But they do. ‘Don’t you want more for them? Don’t you want more for yourself?’

‘I’m going to get my tackle ready for tomorrow.’ Greg shuts his Angling Weekly, causing a disgruntled draught, and with that he bangs out of the room.

The discussion, it seems, is closed.

Chapter 90

Chapter 90

Lauren spent the rest of the afternoon dozing on and off in a garden chair, enjoying the warmth of the gentle sun on her face.

Zak pottered about inside the cottage and, occasionally, brought her out a drink of orange juice or a welcome cup of tea. It was a very pleasant way to while away the remains of the day. They’d be going frantic at the office without her, but that was the least of her worries now.