She whistled at that. ‘Something wrong with people that work nights, mark my words. You be careful, pet.’

I rolled my eyes in response. Ben was harmless. If only she knew the things Ian had done as she sat across from him last night. Mother didn’t wait for a response before carrying on the conversation single-handedly.

‘That Ian was lovely, quite a catch you’ve got there. Looks like he’s got plenty of money.’

I sighed.

‘He didn’t stay over then?’ Did she think she would be greeting him in the kitchen wearing nothing but a T-shirt? The thought made my throat constrict. Was she that desperate?

‘No, he plays rugby at the weekends.’

She nodded. ‘I’m going to head off after breakfast,’ she said, deliberately avoiding my eye. I wasn’t surprised she was eager to get home. She would need to start drinking, topping up the alcohol level from last night. She’d have a bit this morning, to take the edge off. She’d need some to stop the jitters, but not too much if she was to drive straight.

‘Okay,’ I replied.

She popped bread into the toaster and turned to face me.

‘I’ll post down an invite for the wedding. You’ll come, won’t you?’ Her voice shook, I’d never seen her so vulnerable.

I looked away.

‘Sure.’ I lied.

There was a minute of awkward silence before the toaster clicked and she spooned the egg onto the bread.

‘Here you go,’ she said, placing the food in front of me. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d made me breakfast. She must desperately want me to come to this wedding.

I didn’t fancy the eggs but was keen to get her out of the flat. The quickest way to do that was to be civil and eat the damn breakfast. It wasn’t long before we’d both given up, our plates still half full, and lit cigarettes.

‘I’ll get you a towel for the shower, Mum,’ I said when I’d finished my cigarette.

Scraping the plates into the bin, listening to my mother singing in the shower. I wanted to believe she was making changes. Although last night didn’t turn into the violent stand-off I’d expected, she would never be the mother I remembered from my childhood. That one was dead. This one would be too if she carried on drinking.

Half an hour later, I waved her off and sat at the table, enjoying the air blowing through the house. I’d opened all the windows and was contemplating having a drink when Ben arrived home.

‘Hiya,’ he said, entering the kitchen with a spring in his step. He must have got laid last night.

‘What happened to your face?’ Ben had three scratches from the end of his eyebrow right down to the corner of his mouth. They looked red and angry.