It took ages to get everything the way Carolyn wanted it. They emptied the wardrobe, dumping all the clothes on the bed, and between them they were able to shift it across the room. They tried moving the bed too, placing it against the opposite wall; but Carolyn decided almost immediately that she preferred it back where it belonged, which meant rehanging the mirror. Once it was back in place, she had Evie help her take it down again. Her indecision was exhausting. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, propping the mirror against the chest of drawers, ‘maybe I’ll get rid of it entirely. Unless you’d like it?’

It was an old-fashioned piece with an ornate frame, the glass slightly foxed in a lower corner. It had suited her parents’ room, but was too big for Evie’s; she couldn’t imagine where it would fit. ‘No, thanks,’ she said.

‘Oh. Well, I’ll deal with that later.’ Carolyn looked around the room. ‘I wonder sometimes how we ended up with so much stuff. Maybe we should chuck it all out and start again.’

‘Wouldn’t that be a bit expensive?’ Excessive too, Evie thought.

‘Oh. I don’t know. Sometimes you just have to cut your losses.’ Her mother sat on the bed, next to the pile of clothes collapsing gently over the duvet. ‘I hate this bit. When you’ve made such a mess you don’t know where to start.’

The room looked odd, Evie thought, out of balance. It had been cosy up here before, more her mother’s room than her father’s perhaps, but still a comfortable space, welcoming. Now it was . . .

‘Why don’t we take a break?’ she said. ‘We’ll have a cup of tea and a biscuit. Then I’ll give you a hand with this.’ She hadn’t been able to manage much breakfast that morning; she’d been in too much of a rush to get out of the house, to go and meet Kym.

‘I thought we weren’t going to snack in between meals anymore.’

There was no point in arguing.

‘How was your walk? You were gone for ages.’

‘Oh, you know. Fine.’ She’d wait until Carolyn was occupied, then fix herself a quick sandwich. She should have known better than to raise the subject of food. ‘Floss was making a bit of a fuss. Up by the drying ground.’

‘Was she now?’ Her mother looked at her for the longest time. ‘And how did she end up there?’

‘I dropped her lead when I was opening the door. She didn’t go in, though. I don’t know why. She seemed a bit – spooked.’

‘The poor old thing. And how’s the revision going?’

‘The same as the last time you asked, Mum.’ She tried to smile.