When Rowan and his dad had disappeared out of earshot, though, I realised this private catch-up had been exactly what she’d wanted. Penny shifted forward in her seat to lessen the distance between us and, in a voice notably quieter than before, asked how I was.

‘I’m well, thank you. Work is—’

‘Edith, I’m not asking about your livelihood. I’m more interested in your relationship with my son.’ She looked past me, and I thought she must be checking where Rowan and Gregory were in the queue. ‘This break. His idea, was it?’ She spoke with a certainty that unnerved me.

‘It was but …’

‘But you’re fine with it?’ I hadn’t even told the lie and she already didn’t believe it. She leaned back a little but kept her voice hushed. ‘Gregory has been a good husband, Edith, I won’t pretend otherwise. A good provider; there when I needed him to be through the most serious matters in life. But …’ She hesitated, then looked up and swallowed hard before continuing, ‘Loyalty hasn’t been his forte throughout our marriage.’

‘Oh.’ I felt my body deflate around me as I sank back in the chair. ‘Oh, I … Penny, I’m—’

She held up a hand. ‘Don’t be sorry, Edith, it was my choice. But given my time again …’ She petered out and, rather than looking behind me, seemed to find a distraction in the distance somewhere. She smiled then, in the most genuine way I’d ever seen her manage. ‘Given my time again, with the advice of someone who had lived experience, I’m not sure I’d make the same decisions. Which I suppose is what everyone my age says about everything they’ve done.’ There was a light laugh as she leaned back in her seat. ‘It’s something that happens when you’re old.’

‘Nonsense.’ I dismissed her self-deprecation in a kneejerk reaction and she looked surprised. ‘You aren’t old, Penny.’

She looked me up and down. ‘Maybe it’s just that you’re so beautiful, young.’

I felt my cheeks bloom into small roses. Penny had been kind, accepting when I was younger. But the longer Rowan and I were together, the more distance there was carved between me and his mother. People had told me it was normal and I’d accepted it without question. But this kindness from woman to woman, I thought, this felt much more normal now.

‘Thank you, Penny. I appreciate the honesty, and—’

‘I’ve always liked you, Edith.’ I’d appreciate finishing a sentence, too, I thought. But the compliment stunned me quiet. ‘You’ve got … I don’t know, something about you. Grit. Gumption. Don’t let anyone dilute that down, will you?’