‘No, Sara, I can’t. It would be just about all the money I have, and I can’t risk it. It’s never a good idea to lend to family members. What if his business idea doesn’t work and then I lose my safety net as well?’ She sighed. ‘I’m sorry, I really am. But I’ve got to make sure me and Cassie have a bit of security.’

‘Right,’ Sara whispered and ended the call without even saying goodbye, because she knew it would set off the tears.

She lay in the dark, her mind going round and round the same circular route until she had to accept there was no way out of the mess she’d got herself in. She was just going to have to tell him.

With a sigh, she got out of bed, wrapped herself in her dressing gown and padded downstairs to the kitchen, where she filled the kettle and got out two mugs ready to make tea. It’ll be fine, she told herself, a shiver of unease running through her. She pulled her robe tighter, arms tucked round her body. It was a mistake. We all make mistakes. Not the end of the world. But it felt like it. For her, anyway, because her upbringing had made her wary of mistakes. Mistakes meant punishment, and that could be anything from a punch or a slap to going without food or being locked in her room. There was no consistency. Not when her parenting had involved a stream of her mother’s boyfriends and seven foster homes, each with its own set of rules.

Her hands were shaking as she dropped the tea bags in the cups, her mind trying to rationalise the situation. You’re not a child any more. Nothing bad is going to happen. Apart from her feeling foolish and guilty and ashamed. Matt wasn’t going to give her a slap that would send her spinning across the room, or tip scalding tea on her hand. After the experiences of her childhood, she’d consciously chosen a partner who she was confident would never resort to physical violence. His only weapons were words, and she could cope with that. He would be angry, justifiably so, and she would have to suck it up while they worked out what to do next.

She looked up as the back door opened and Matt walked in, whistling.

‘Hey, love. Let me do that. You go and sit down.’ He shooed her into the living room, following her in and grabbing a fleece blanket to tuck over her legs as she sat on the settee. He came back a couple of minutes later with the tea, put the mugs on the coffee table and sat down next to her, pulling her into a hug.

‘Aw, you’re shaking. Still feeling wobbly?’

She nodded, fear robbing her of words.