When he switches on the TV, her sister’s face fills the screen. Bethany’s talking animatedly, her dark, glossy hair swinging. She’s wearing navy nail varnish and skinny black leather jeans with a sheer blouse. You can see her bra when she leans forward and the studio lights shine through the fabric.

‘Must have been her last one,’ says Matt, turning up the volume.

Amy feels, as she does every time she sees her sister, a kind of cringing embarrassment: not because her sister is terrible – she isn’t, she’s good at what she does – but at the thought of being on live television, of having to say the right thing without stuttering, whilst somebody else is talking in your ear at the same time as you’re trying to listen to a studio guest and make intelligent and witty conversation or read the autocue. She would hate it – the scrutiny, and the effort it takes to look like that: not a chip in her polish, not an eyebrow hair out of place. Bethany once showed Amy her Twitter feed after a show, and it was a deluge of comments about what she was wearing, how she looked and what the male viewers would like to do to her. Amy had been horrified, but Bethany had just shrugged.

‘You should see my Facebook messages. Anyway, it means they’re watching,’ she’d said.

And now, of course, what she feels for her sister has become more complicated.

The doorbell rings and Matt pads through the hall in his socks to let Nick in.

‘Nick Flowers, you’re an hour late.’

‘I’m sorry, mate. I was in the studio and lost track of time.’

‘And you had your phone turned off?’

‘Had it on silent. You know what Tamsyn’s like.’ He comes into the sitting room, shucking his coat onto the sofa, and hugs her. His stubble grazes her cheek. ‘I’m really, really sorry, Ams. You can still go. I can stay as late as you like.’

She can’t remember the last time he was here. She doesn’t want to try. Was it really almost a year ago? He’s met them in cafes, and taken the children to the park. But he hasn’t been in their house for more than a few minutes. She guesses it’s because he can’t bring himself to walk past Ruby-May’s bedroom, which she’s left almost exactly as it was, one year ago.

‘Matt’s put something in the oven.’

‘Lasagne,’ says Matt. ‘Do you want some, now you’re here?’

‘Guys, I feel terrible – making you miss.…’ He catches sight of Bethany. ‘That’s The Show, right?’

‘It’s an old one. We had it on catch-up,’ Amy says. ‘Did she ever tell you why she left and came back to Bristol?’