‘Well then …’ he says, then lets the silence hang, as though he’s trying to force my hand. I press a fist against my mouth.

‘Listen, Jennifer, don’t you ever—’

But I can’t do it. I cut him off. There’s no good place this conversation can go.

‘Listen, Dad, I’d better get to bed. I was already sleeping when you rang.’

‘Oh.’ The quiet on the line is disappointed, crushed. ‘All right then, Jennifer. I hope you sleep well.’

And we’re done, until the next time he calls. No doubt exactly three months from now.

Somehow, next morning, we end up running nearly fifteen minutes late. I bundle Charlie into his coat and shoes, and he gives a yelp as I pull his laces tight. I slept badly again and from the moment I woke up, time just seemed to get away from me. As we head out of the door, Charlie tripping on a loose piece of carpet, my anxiety rises up again, but this time I just stamp on my emotions, forcing them down. We arrive at the school at five past nine. Embarrassingly late. I can’t even think about what Abayomi will say when I finally reach the office.

We have to knock on the door of Charlie’s classroom. All the children look up at us. Ms Simmons comes out from behind her desk, and my hand is hard and flat on Charlie’s back as I push him forwards.

My hands are empty now: I’ve forgotten my gloves. My coat seems to be buttoned up wrong too.

Ms Simmons takes him from me and ushers him to his seat. I turn and hurry out of the door, pretending not to see her look of concern.

I walk-run all the way down the hill to work, nauseous at the thought of how late I’m going to be.

When I step inside the office, though, Abayomi isn’t even there. Emma says he has been out all morning. She says she covered for me when he rang, told him I was out on a visit to a tenant. I sit down at my desk, at a loss as to how to express my gratitude to her. I have made it so awkward with her that even something like this feels so difficult. I think about the tea she brought me yesterday that again I just left to grow cold on my desk. I walk a line between my craving for intimacy and my desperate desire to keep everyone at arm’s length. The result is that it puts people in an impossible position. It makes it so hard for me to accept kindness or help.