‘Oh… you know.’ It wasn’t possible to explain in a sentence how things really were. That would take a few hours and probably a bottle of wine for Dutch courage if she was going to be completely honest. ‘Fine, everything’s fine.’ From the despondent tone of her voice, this was obviously a long way from the truth.

‘Well, you don’t sound fine. You sound like someone’s stolen your secret chocolate stash.’ Hailey laughed. Sara burst into tears. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Hailey said, suddenly concerned.

Sara sniffed, unable to speak for a moment, and when she finally found her voice, it sounded thin and weedy, not like her at all. ‘I’m going to have to cancel tonight.’

‘Oh no! I’ve been looking forward to seeing Fake That for ages!’

‘Matt’s got to work late.’

Hailey cursed under her breath, then said, ‘It’s your day off, isn’t it? Are you at home? I’m in town, not far away, and I’m kicking my heels for half an hour or so, waiting for social services to get their shit together. Shall I come round?’ Sara tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but couldn’t seem to manage it, her silence enough of an answer for her sister. ‘I’ll be there in ten,’ Hailey said, before she rang off.

Sara put her phone back in her pocket, grabbed a piece of kitchen roll and wiped her wet cheeks, slightly panicked. What have I done? She generally kept her problems to herself, reluctant to open up to Hailey, who could be like a Rottweiler when it came to protecting her from upset. She didn’t want her sister having a go at Matt. It’s not his fault there are problems at work. The poor man was slogging away day after day to keep them comfortable, and Sara’s minimum-wage job was little real help where their finances were concerned. In fact, once you took out childcare costs, there wasn’t much left.

It’s not about money, though, is it? She gave herself a mental shake, pushing her negative thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She sniffed and took a couple of deep breaths to chase away the tears. It’s just tiredness, she told herself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you silly woman.

She scanned the room, her heart giving a little skip when she registered the mess, the detritus of family life littering every flat surface. She leapt into action, scurrying round shoving things out of sight as best she could. No time to do anything about the dust, or the dirty windows, or the crumbs on the floor, she decided as she bundled an armful of children’s clothes behind the sofa.