I dropped myself hard against the kitchen counter, exhaled and smiled – the same coat-hanger smile from earlier. So he does know me that well. ‘Today will not be a bad day,’ I said again as I flicked the kettle on. I was preheating the oven by the time they’d arrived on the topic of grandchildren, they being Penny – ‘Of course, you’ll be thinking of where in the country is best to raise children before you know it’ – but I did a fine job of convincing myself the worst was over with. ‘Today will not be a bad day.’ Realistically I knew the worst – the absolute worst – had already happened. ‘Today will not be—’

‘Bloody right it won’t,’ Rowan interrupted from the doorway.

I froze, bum in the air and head buried in the second drawer of the freezer. ‘It won’t be.’ He didn’t say anything until I’d righted myself.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Of course!’ I made an effort to lower the falsetto into something that didn’t sound quite so utterly fake. ‘Of course. I didn’t hear you finish.’

He crossed the kitchen to join me, then, as though sure he’d dipped a proverbial toe in the waters. He grabbed at my hips and my mind flashed back to the night before; our first time having sex with a ring on my finger although it hadn’t felt any different – and I knew Molly would ask. ‘Parcell, are you in here making breakfast sandwiches without me?’

‘I am if I can find the sausages.’

‘Third drawer.’ He let me go, then, and crossed to where the tea was still brewing. I imagined the brown particles that must have formed on top. Rowan hated that but I’d always quite liked them. ‘How much did you hear?’ he asked, stirring each drink in turn.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Nice try, but you heard the question.’

I dropped six sausages onto an oven tray. ‘How much do you want me to have heard?’

‘Wait …’ He cupped a hand around an ear. ‘Would that be thin ice I can hear cracking?’

‘Cute.’ I dropped the sausages back in the drawer and launched a search and rescue for hash browns. ‘I’m serious, though, babe. How much do you want me to have heard?’

‘I’m serious, though, babe.’ He matched my tone. ‘Come on, Edi, you aren’t that girl.’

I coughed. ‘“We’ve always been equal in things and, really, I think—”’