After adding a big tick next to ‘lazy Sunday morning’ on the Dream List (now typed out on A3 paper and pinned to my office notice board), I spent the rest of the day stripping wallpaper, blaring out music that Mum would have hated (basically, anything more recent than 2000 that wasn’t Take That or Adele), and singing along at the top of my voice. Exhausted, but thrilled at having made some decent progress, I finally stopped once my stomach rumbles threatened to drown out the feel-good playlist, changed into clean pyjamas and went to find something to eat.

There was a note pushed through the letterbox:

This is a terrace. If you are going to spend all day caterwauling, at least learn how to do it in tune.

The note wasn’t signed, but I didn’t suppose that either Joan or Leanne would write such spindly scrawl – or use a fountain pen. Hot tears pressed against the backs of my eyes, and I slumped into a kitchen chair, hand trembling as it clutched the note. What had only minutes ago felt like glorious serenity now seemed horribly lonely and overwhelming. I felt like a stupid child playing at being grown-up, and for the first time in over a week, I desperately missed Mum.

I hurriedly unblocked her number and clicked to call. She answered after one ring.

‘Ollie!’ she barked. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry. I can’t believe you blocked your own mother!’

I swallowed back the lump in my throat and prepared to go with an ‘I’m fine!’ reply, but before I could speak she carried on.

‘Honestly, this week has been a nightmare! You wouldn’t understand, not having your own child, but it’s felt as though someone chopped my arm off and hid it somewhere. Cutting off all contact, refusing to tell me where you live or if you’re okay is downright cruel. Everyone agrees! After all I’ve done, you repay me like this. For all you know I’d taken ill again and was in hospital… or dead.’ She broke off into sobs.

‘It was one week, Mum. And Karina would have let me know if anything happened—’

Before I’d finished my sentence, she’d started up again. ‘You can’t imagine how lonely I am without you. I’ve barely seen a living soul all week. Felt so awful I couldn’t face leaving the house.’

‘Karina told me you went to the cinema on Wednesday, and saw Linda last Sunday.’

There was a long silence, punctuated by her sulky sniffles. ‘Well, it’s still been dreadful without you.’

‘I know it must be hard; I’m sorry you’ve struggled.’