“Of course you have to get away,” Jill said in that cool voice of hers, turning from the saucepan to look at Katrina. “You can’t stay at home with her any longer. You’ll lose your mind.”

Katrina already knew this was true, but still something—perhaps some long-buried feeling of reproach towards Jill—made her say, “If I leave, she’ll have no one.”

Then Jill said something surprising. “Our mother,” she began, and here she paused and gave the curry a vicious stir, “is incapable of love. It’s not her fault, but it’s true. She has no sense of other people’s feelings, no interest in them or even awareness. I suppose it’s a mental disorder of some kind, but I can’t feel sorry for her. She lives alone in her world—the people around her are just moving, coloured shapes. So Katrina, it doesn’t really matter whether you stay or go. You’re no one to her—or rather the role you play could be filled by anyone. Do you understand that? That’s why it’s so important that you leave.”

Chris had his arm around Jill’s shoulders now, but Katrina could see her sister’s back stayed tense, and after a moment she shrugged Chris off. Katrina herself was quiet, absorbing this sudden rush of words. While she felt her sister was overstating the case, Jill’s outburst brought with it a sudden sense of freedom, almost vertiginous in its unfamiliarity. She said, as Jill continued to stir the curry as though nothing had happened, “I want to apply for a job at the Glasgow Herald. Then I’d be earning enough, just about, to move to Glasgow. Only I don’t think they’d take me.”

Jill turned to face her. “You know, I bet they would.”

Chris added, “At least there’s no harm in asking, is there?” and for some reason it was this more than anything that clinched it for Katrina. She did apply the following week, and was interviewed and taken on as a junior reporter, writing articles for the business section. She found a room to rent, and arranged it all without consulting her mother.

“You’re moving out?” her mother said, when the subject was finally broached. “But you can’t!”

“I have to, Mum,” Katrina said, almost shaking from the stress of it. “I need to be close to work.”

“Nonsense. It’s only a forty-minute drive into Glasgow. I’ll get you a second-hand car.”

Katrina held firm. She didn’t want to drive, she said.

“Don’t be so selfish,” her mother said. “It’s always been just the two of us. You can’t leave me on my own.”