I opened the door slowly to try to delay the creak of it. There was a conversation happening still, but I couldn’t make out the gist – nor could I hear any shouted expletives, though, which felt like a sign that they didn’t yet know the reason for the impromptu gathering. When the whine of the door finally sounded, their talking stopped. I took my time walking along the hall, but when I arrived at the doorway to the living room they already had their stares fixed on me, as though they’d only been sat there waiting. Either that, or they’d sensed my gloom shifting along the corridor like a scorned woman from a B-Movie. I flashed them all a tight smile and Cora, as though spring-loaded, leapt from the bucket seat in the corner and rushed over to me.

I spoke to Molly over Cora’s shoulder. ‘You’ve told them?’

‘She’s told us.’ Cora held me by the waist at arm’s length. ‘What reaction do you need?’

I shrugged. ‘I really can’t—’

‘Can’t believe what a colossal bastard he is, Edi, if I’m honest.’ Betty was sitting on the windowsill. She’d got one hand dangling out of the window to keep a hold of her cigarette. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her smoke. ‘I know you don’t know what reaction you need but that’s the reaction you’re getting.’ She moved her head out to take a drag and then came back in. When she spoke again, smoke billowed out of her and she reminded me of a dragon; a fierce, feminist, sweary dragon. ‘This is exactly the sort of shit I’d expect a man of his standing to pull. Middle-class, self-important, entitled twa—’

‘Betty.’ Faith raised an eyebrow. ‘Cora asked what reaction Edi needs.’

‘And Edi said she didn’t know,’ Betty answered.

‘Actually—’ Cora squeezed in between them both ‘—Edi didn’t answer yet.’ But the comment went ignored. Still, I squeezed her arm softly in thanks.

Meanwhile, Faith only kept her cautionary eyebrow raised in Betty’s direction. ‘Surely that means we should check our feelings at the door and let Edi speak, which is probably what she called us here for.’ She turned to me. ‘Right?’ Faith was the human in shining armour at the best of times. That evening, though, she was the wild-haired friend straight from the pages of a magazine, in her white T-shirt and black braces. And her level tone was a great comfort. She was trying hard to give nothing away. ‘Walk us through it. What are you feeling?’