She dropped a teabag into a favourite pottery mug, poured in the water, added a splash of unsweetened soya milk from the fridge, and slumped back down into the nearest chair, still weighing up the pros and cons of making the call. Oh, what the hell, Mum won’t mind. She never does.

Megan nearly ended the call before her mother answered, guilt almost getting the better of her, but she suddenly heard her mother’s familiar voice at the other end of the line. ‘Hello, Megan, what is it, love?’

Megan took a deep breath, filling her lungs, exhaling slowly before speaking. ‘I need to talk.’

‘What, now? It’s the middle of the night. Can’t it wait until morning?’

There was a moment’s silence as Megan began weeping without words.

‘What is it, love, what’s happened? I know there’s something.’

Megan sipped her tea, wetting her mouth, wondering why her throat felt so very parched. ‘He’s been here again.’

‘Dale?’

‘Well, yes, who else?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, not again! What’s he done this time?’

‘He turned up here pissed out of his tiny mind, as usual, hammering on the door and demanding to see Lottie at the top of his voice. What sort of father does that? In the middle of the night!’

‘I’m so sorry. It’s hard to believe he’s the same man you married. Dale’s changed so very much in such a short time. I know he lost his father, followed by his job. It was hard on him. But we all have to deal with life’s problems. No-one is immune, not you, not me and not Dale.’

Megan cradled her mug, taking comfort in the residual heat. ‘It’s less than two weeks since the court proceedings. I thought the injunction would make a difference. But it seems not. It’s Lottie I feel most sorry for. It’s knocking her confidence, confusing her, setting her back. She’s even started wetting the bed again. Dale knows all this. How is a five-year-old little girl supposed to understand what’s going on? I want to explain. But what do I say? It’s tearing me apart, Mum. I don’t know what to do for the best.’

Megan heard a deep sigh at the other end of the line before her mother spoke again. ‘You two used to be so very close. Dale’s such a nice boy when he’s sober.’

Megan stiffened. ‘Yes, but not so much when he’s drunk. Why doesn’t he stop pouring poison down his stupid throat? If he doesn’t want to stop drinking for himself, why not do it for us? Aren’t we enough? It’s like the real Dale walked away from us and never came back.’

‘It’s an illness. Your father was much the same. This is like travelling back in time.’

‘Dale promised me he’d stop drinking. He said it to my face as we left the courtroom. For my sake and Lottie’s too, that’s what he said. Do you know, I actually believed him this time. But it didn’t even last a fortnight. Maybe one day he’ll live up to his empty promises.’ Megan paused. ‘I’d still like to think he will.’