‘Slamming the door, crashing the gears, what a performance! I sleep at the front, you see, and I couldn’t help noticing. Honestly, sweetheart, you’re too good for him. He’s an idiot to treat you like that. I know I shouldn’t say this but I believe in speaking my mind.’ She picked some fluff from her cardigan and flicked it onto the floor. ‘They’re all the same. We girls have got to stick together.’

‘I hope we didn’t wake you up.’

I had a pounding headache and a raging thirst. Oh Lord, she’d be wanting a cup of coffee.

‘Any chance of a cup of coffee?’ she asked.

She already looked as if she’d been sitting there for ever. It was something to do with her size. As I boiled the kettle she said: ‘It’s no picnic being on your own, Pru, believe me, but there are worse things. Men having hissy fits being one of them.’

How did she know it was a hissy fit? Her words made me realise that’s just what it was. A peevish, immature hissy fit.

She opened the box. The coconut fingers were packed on tissue paper, nestled side by side, a gift of love. Two rows of them, too. Tears sprang to my eyes.

‘That’s so kind,’ I said, and sat down heavily.

‘Enjoy them, you deserve it.’ She pushed the box towards me. ‘We’ve all been there, petal. Even me.’

I burst into tears. Wasn’t that ridiculous? But once I’d started I couldn’t stop.

Pam didn’t hug me, for which I was grateful. She got up and made the coffee; I just pointed helplessly at the canister and the cafetiere. She picked up a little container.

‘You shouldn’t use sweetener, you know. It gives you a brain tumour.’

‘I don’t,’ I sobbed. ‘I got it for Calvin.’

‘I told you he needed his head examined.’

I was so surprised by her joke that I stopped crying. Pam tore off a piece of kitchen towel and gave it to me. She sat down and slid a mug across the table.

‘You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.’