Bridie blew him a kiss as he pulled the door to. She wouldn’t remember it, but that was the last time Bridie saw her grandson alive.

Jeremy stayed in the house, babysitting his sleeping grandmother, while Maisie spent an hour in the supermarket, cursing because the entire lay-out of the shop had changed.

‘Why? Why would they do that?’ Maisie ranted.

Valerie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Maybe they knew it would make you mental, Ma’sie.’

Maisie skipped from the dairy aisle to the detergents. ‘It was here, right? There were fridges right here with pre-packed meat in them last time we came, right?’

‘Right.’

Maisie spun around. ‘Who puts the dairy aisle next to detergents?’

‘It’s bleedin’ unsanitary,’ Valerie mumbled.

‘Ten pence in the jar.’ Maisie stalked off towards what would turn out to be the biscuit aisle. As she turned into Jams and Canned Goods for the third time, she spotted her daughter emerging from the next aisle.

‘Dog food,’ Valerie said.

‘Right, back to Pizzas and Frozen Veg – it has to be somewhere near there.’

‘Jesus, Mas’ie, we’ve done that one three times already.’

Maisie was trying hard not to lose it but supermarket shopping was her least favourite occupation, even when the supermarket powers that be weren’t trying to mess with her mind. I’m going to write a letter of complaint. Dear Bastards …

It was hot and stuffy and Maisie’s head hurt from too much wine. Stupid New Year’s Eve. She had spent it alone. Her mother had gone to bed at just after seven p.m., her son had been with his friends and Valerie was holed up in her bedroom. Still, at least she’s not doing drugs … yet. Maisie was terrified of drugs. She had read every pamphlet imaginable on the subject and watched her children, like a hawk, waiting for the signs, paying particular attention to her twelve-year-old daughter. Each day she performed a mental check on Valerie: Appearance? Unchanged. Good. Eating habits? Unchanged. Good. Change in interests? No. Good. Rude or rebellious attitude? Always has been rude and rebellious so no change there. Good. Change in friends’ line-up? No, still just one friend. Although that does concern me – Jeremy’s so popular … Moody? She was born moody … Left to her own devices, Maisie had opened a bottle of wine and drunk it in front of Jools Holland. A few fireworks had gone off at midnight, setting off Vera Malone’s dog, Jake. His howls were punctuated by Vera roaring, ‘You didn’t do that when the house was being burgled. It’s a wonder ya didn’t make those lads a cup of fuckin’ tea!’ Through the wall, she couldn’t tell if the dog had quietened due to shame or fatigue.