Anna picked up her phone and angled it to take in the pan on the hob. ‘Wish you could smell as well as see… I’m cooking a Thai dish. I’m quite excited about it, actually.’

She placed the phone back on her shelf and discovered her mother looking at her from over the top of her glasses. ‘I asked how you were doing. Not what you were doing.’

‘Oh. You know…’ Anna turned away, reaching for some chopped lime leaves to throw into the pan. She knew the script to this bit: I’m okay, getting better slowly, taking things day by day… She opened her mouth to recite it, but then she frowned and pinned her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment. ‘Actually, Mum, I’m beginning to think I turned a corner this summer.’

‘I’m so pleased to hear that, especially after that business with Gayle on Spencer’s birthday. I must admit, I was a little worried that might set you back.’

‘Yes, even despite that. In fact, maybe because of that.’ She’d already told her mum about the visit to Brands Hatch but she began to delve into more detail, explaining just how it had shaken something loose for her. Up until that point, she hadn’t wanted to admit to her mother how much she’d been struggling.

Her mother listened carefully, and when Anna had finished, she said, ‘I’m so glad you felt you could talk to me about this, sweetheart. I wish you had sooner.’

Anna nodded as she concentrated on her cooking. ‘I know. Me too.’

‘What do you think has helped? Was there something in particular?’

Anna stopped stirring, realizing she still wasn’t being entirely honest with her mother. There was a big part of the picture she was still skirting around – Brody. He was the catalyst for all this change.

For the first time since she’d started speaking to him, it felt strange – maybe even a little wrong – that she hadn’t shared this information with her mother. She stared at the chicken as she pushed it around the pan with a spatula, letting her thoughts gather, and then the story of calling Spencer’s phone on New Year’s Eve began to spill out, ending with her telling her mum all about the solid shoulder she’d been crying on for a good few months now. ‘I think it made a difference,’ she said. ‘Having someone to talk to who not only could empathize but who’d also experienced the same thing.’

As the words left her mouth, she realized she still wasn’t clear on the details of Brody’s loss, even though she’d asked him about it a handful of times. Reviewing the conversations they’d had over the last couple of months, she noticed a pattern – every time she asked him a more personal question, he sidestepped it, but he did it so neatly, deflecting the conversations back in her direction, that she’d never spotted the trend until that moment. What was up with that? She made a mental note to pin him down properly when they next spoke.