‘It’s cold. It’s supposed to be the summer.’

‘It’s the fog. It’ll clear soon.’

‘It’s creepy,’ said Maude.

‘Atmospheric,’ said Nell, and Maude snorted softly.

If anyone had asked a year ago how well she got on with her stepdaughter, Nell wouldn’t have hesitated. Fine, she’d have said, she’s terrific. They’d always had a solid relationship, or so she’d thought.

But a year was a long time, and now Maude was trying to cope with a new step-father and a new half-brother, and there were times when Nell suspected that neither she nor Chris was up to the job of parenting any more, days when no matter how she tried, she simply couldn’t say or do the right thing.

There were a few people about as they walked towards the bridge. Maude was right, it was cold for late May, the fog muting the town and all its inhabitants. They crossed the river in silence.

*

The supermarket was quieter than Nell had expected – the schools hadn’t broken up yet, but she’d have thought the weekend would be busier than this – and the two of them took their time filling their trolley. Nell found she was looking more carefully than usual at the other customers, wondering when she might notice a familiar face, if anyone would recognise her.

They strolled slowly down the aisle, past the household section, towards toiletries and personal hygiene, and suddenly, not knowing for sure felt like the worst thing in the world. She stopped and forced a smile. ‘Shall we get some more biscuits, or some chocolate?’ she asked.

‘Well, yeah,’ said Maude as if the answer were obvious.

‘Do you want to go and grab some, then? Only don’t go mad, OK?’

‘Yeah, sure, whatever.’ Maude didn’t look back. As soon as she was out of sight, Nell headed over to the shelves, scanning them for a testing kit. She didn’t have long, and there were far too many to choose from. Her hand hovered over the one she’d used last time, when she’d been so certain, so very sure. Only that felt like tempting fate, as if she’d get the same result all over again, the same sense of crushing failure, of shame. A single vertical line. Not pregnant.

Maude would be back any second.

The writing on the cellophane wrapped packets began to waver.

‘I got some cake as well.’ Maude dropped her haul into the trolley, chocolate, biscuits, a lemon drizzle loaf.

‘Do you think you got enough?’ It was quite an effort to move away, to feign idle interest in the shelves.

‘You’ve got to hit all the food groups, Nell.’

The girl on the till asked if they wanted the shopping delivered.

‘Yes, please,’ said Maude.