‘Or you can roll your sleeves up and get on with life. You can say: Okay, this bad thing has happened to me, but I’m not going to lie down in defeat. I’m not going to submit. I know it’s hard – believe me, I remember – but being on your own is not the end of the world. See it as an opportunity; a beginning, rather than an ending. Don’t forget, once the children know what has happened, they’ll be counting on you to get all three of you through this. So—’

‘All right! All right!’ Robyn cried, rolling her eyes. Don’t forget, indeed. Like she could just forget! When she was absolutely dreading having to tell Sam and Daisy about John! ‘No need to lecture me.’ Was her mother trying to make her feel worse than she already did?

‘Because when your dad died, I didn’t have a choice,’ Alison said, warming to her theme. ‘It was out of my control. Much as I wanted to give up and stay in bed crying for the rest of my life, I had to keep going for the sake of both of us. Whereas—’

‘Yes, but Dad couldn’t help dying,’ Robyn pointed out. ‘It wasn’t like he deliberately left you in the lurch, unlike John.’

Her mum stiffened for a moment, then she pursed her lips and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. ‘All I’m saying,’ she went on quietly, a wounded expression on her face, ‘is that you mustn’t give up. This is your chance to follow your own dreams again, to start thinking about the life you want, rather than living around your husband.’

Robyn had had enough of being lectured. An acrid coil of nastiness was untwisting inside her, putting words in her mouth. ‘Says you, who’s never dared do anything,’ she replied scornfully before she could stop herself. ‘Says you, who never goes out, who doesn’t have a life, who’s too scared to seek out any kind of relationship that doesn’t involve cutting someone’s hair and asking them about their holidays. What about your holidays, eh? What about your dreams? Don’t preach at me, when you’re too cowardly to do anything new!’

As soon as she had finished saying all of these terrible things, Robyn would have given anything to spool them back inside again. There was a dreadful shocked silence when Alison looked like she’d been slapped. She opened her mouth as if she was about to retaliate in defence, then clamped it shut again and wheeled round on the spot. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, in a tight voice that didn’t sound like her at all.