‘Wedding magazines. Time to plan our future, right? I’ve decided to divorce Diane. It’s been long enough. Keeping the poor girl hanging on isn’t doing either of us any good.’

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘I’d hoped for a smile at least,’ said Michael, squeezing my hand. ‘It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You and me, happily ever after.’

He was right, I should have been smiling. If this were a normal relationship, I would have been.

I said the truest thing I could, without aggravating Michael’s temper: ‘It’s weird timing. I thought you’d be mad at me. About Cat.’

‘Forget about Cat,’ said Michael. ‘She’s a drug addict who should take better care of her daughter.’

‘And Annalise?’

‘Like mother, like daughter. She’ll be living with junkies somewhere and she’ll find her mother again in time.’

He gave me a hug, but it felt hollow.

‘So now you’ll have something to focus your mind on,’ said Michael, giving me the magazines. ‘Right? Not Cat coming here and shouting about her daughter.’

My eyes couldn’t quite meet his.

I wanted to ask him more about Annalise. When she left, had she said where she was going? Was there anything we could tell Cat?

But I knew what Michael would say. You’re spoiling this moment, Lorna. You’re being ungrateful. Why would you bring up something like that now when we’re talking about getting married?

And I couldn’t pull myself out of the pit.

I hate myself for that now.

I hate myself for so many things I can never change.

Liberty

My mother is at the front gate. At least, I think it’s her. I can see the tiny speck of a person dressed in black, its size and movements female.

I watch the speck and feel sick.

Michael watches too, face pressed to the glass. There’s an air of a victory about him. A knight swaggering around after winning a joust.

‘What will you do now she’s here?’ I ask, my voice flat.

‘I’m going to say hello,’ says Michael. ‘Good news, Liberty. Your mother is behaving herself. She’s come alone. This is long-awaited, let me tell you. She’s been laughing at me. Thinking she was in charge. But not anymore.’

‘She was never laughing at you,’ I say. ‘She didn’t want anything to do with you.’

‘She’s obsessed with me,’ says Michael. ‘Living so close by.’

‘That’s not why she chose to live close by,’ I say.

‘Oh?’ Michael’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘You have some insight there, do you? So tell me, Liberty. Why did Lorna camp on my doorstep all these years like a lovesick fan?’

‘She was playing you at your own game.’