My own mother – I couldn’t tell her. Sarah, the kids and I would get to Numurkah on Christmas Eve, Biddy on the twenty-eighth. Chris and Carly would be staying nearby from the thirtieth. Carly had known for a fortnight about Biddy and me, about Sarah and … I didn’t know exactly what she knew because I’d been avoiding her.

She’d texted: hi darling chris sarah told me about you two dating other people I’ve decided not to tell chris yet because he wouldn’t understand

He’d understand. He wasn’t stupid. She’d meant he wouldn’t approve.

Biddy lifted the kettle, filled the pan. Going to the farm together would be fine – it had to be. Anything less would be a clear-cut case of ‘couple privilege’, Biddy’s new favourite term. Family holidays from now on had to include my whole family, even if Sarah and Biddy didn’t want to be together at those times, and I … I’d never understood it: how could I like being with them individually and feel so awkward as a trio?

Maybe we’d all shag – it had happened before, it wasn’t impossible. It was fantasy-thinking, the mark of a diseased mind. I’d tried to manipulate them several times individually, together; it was a non-starter.

Biddy approached the stool, arms out. ‘Can I have a hug?’

I leant in, hugged, squeezed, inhaled, pulled, cleaved.

‘Still no word from Zac?’

‘Nah, it’ll be Wednesday at the earliest.’

She rubbed my back, our cheeks touching. This was what I needed. Just this. Sitting. Biddy standing, hugging me. Just exactly this.

She said, ‘And you said his masters is in Supply Chain Logistics?’

‘Something like that.’ Squeezing. ‘Two years full-time.’

‘You know he lies, beauty?’

‘About being arrested and charged? Yeah, I know. I should have told you.’ She was still annoyed, and I deserved it.

‘No, not just that. He doesn’t always tell the truth. I know he’s your friend, Chris, but I’m not sure I trust him.’ She stepped back, held my shoulders, her face brightening. ‘Oh, hey. They announced a lastminute headliner for Meredith this morning. Have you decided if you’re coming yet?’

‘I’d love to.’

‘Yay, so you will?’ Her hands clasped, big smile.

My head down. ‘No, I’d love to. But I can’t. For all the reasons I’ve said. And now, without Zac, with Sarah alone … It just feels wrong. And why should an already expensive weekend cost you double?’ The tickets, the food, the petrol, the drugs, the alcohol – I was skint, couldn’t do it. I’d explained it all weeks ago, and now the festival was a week away and she’d still not sold her extra ticket.

She frowned, smiled again. ‘Maybe it would make me happy if you came and enjoyed yourself and stopped worrying. I don’t give a shit about the money.’