She shrugged. I don’t know. What was the letter?

I’d asked if they could provide an interpreter so you could attend.

And?

I shook my head. No funding, of course. They suggested I go with you as your interpreter.

Anna grimaced at this, but I didn’t take offence. The whole point of a support group was that it should be a place where you can vent about your life and the people around you, as well as get support from people with similar experiences. Having her sister with her would skew that experience for Anna, because sometimes there might be things she wanted to say but didn’t feel she could in front of me.

So, I can’t go anyway? she said.

No way, we’re not giving up that easily, I replied. Groups like this should be accessible to all, and that includes providing an interpreter for a BSL user. I just need to work out who to take the fight to next.

Anna rolled her eyes at me and stood up. Come on, you’ve abandoned your boyfriend in the living room.

He’ll be fine, I replied, giving her a wry smile.

You need to keep him happy, he’s buying us pizza, she reminded me, and I laughed.

When we went back into the living room, Max had his phone out. He showed us the takeaway app, already open and waiting for our orders. I explained about our plans to go to a Christmas market the following weekend.

Ah, well I won’t intrude on that! he said. I’d talked to him a few times about my concerns about Anna, my worries about how her accident had affected her long-term, so I knew he understood that there were times when I had to prioritise her. I wished that I could let myself enjoy our relationship without worrying about repeating past mistakes, but there was no way I could put them out of my mind after today.

About half an hour later, the doorbell rang and I went down to the front door to collect our pizzas.

We’d ordered from the kebab shop in the village, and the young delivery guy appeared to have walked rather than try to drive in the snow. He handed over the pizzas without a word then trudged back up the road. As I watched him go, my phone rang in my pocket and I juggled the pizzas to pull it out.

It was a number I didn’t recognise, but I stepped back into the hallway and answered it, checking the front door had shut behind me.

‘Hi Paige.’

I breathed in sharply as I recognised Mike’s voice.

‘Don’t hang up on me, please. I know you probably want to. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. It’s been a long day, the roads are really bad and I know you get tired doing lots of driving.’