He agrees that if I succeed in finding somewhere decent, he’ll join us for the week, taking the children home at the weekend to give me time alone.

It strengthens my resolve—how hard can it be—yet, I’m still struggling when Camilla pops round.

“Good news, I’ve found a place and it’s free!”

“Really?”

I wait for the catch and of course, there is one.

“Greg’s old house—his parents’ originally—is lying empty on Dartmoor. They used to run a small B&B and he hasn’t got round to selling it yet.” She smiles. “He’s much more sentimental than he lets on, that man. Anyway, he says we’re welcome to use it if we are happy to ignore the old decor and the steep, death-trap stairs.”

“Sounds ideal...not,” I say.

“Oh, Marie, you’re such a bloody misery all the time. Just tell the children to be careful, it’s not as if they’re preschoolers.” She pauses as she looks at my stomach. “Mind you, you’ll have to be wary, too, in your current state. Just resist the temptation to push Stuart down them,” she adds with a grin, “and everything will be fine.”

If she’s noticed my irritation with him, it must be bad.

I grin, too, I can’t help it. “I’ll try not to.”

It’s probably the most genuine moment we’ve shared.

“Isn’t Dartmoor a bit bleak?” I can’t help saying.

“Only if you choose to see it like that, and I wouldn’t imagine so in summer. There will be gorgeous walks and beaches not too far away. Also, there’s llama trekking, cycling, all kinds of fabulous, wholesome activities for the children! They’ll love it. I’ll join in on Friday for the weekend.”

I agree to it. If Camilla’s on board, that’s the whole point. Just me and her, with plenty of time to bond. I’m going to get my answers, even if I have to threaten to throw Camilla down the dodgy staircase myself to get them.

I do my own research and discover waterfalls, climbing and horse riding. Idyllic. Camilla’s right, we will have loads to keep us occupied. The children will love the time away, which is an added, positive benefit, despite my underhanded motive.

Before we go away the following week (it can’t come soon enough), the urge to visit my mother again is strong.

“She’s in the conservatory, love,” says my dad when I arrive.

“You go out for a walk or something.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in an hour or so,” he says.

I wait until I hear the front door close before I speak.

“I knew when I slept with Stuart that it was the right time. I have this thing called an app, you see. I mean, it wasn’t guaranteed, it had never worked with Ben. But that night, I knew. I hoped that I had a chance. And it happened. After just one time. I couldn’t believe it, but it goes to show that despite what I did, it was surely meant to be, don’t you think?”