Paula wrenched her hand from underneath Julie’s. Of course it was all about Tommy. He was the important one in their relationship. Without him, they’d have nothing. She would have nothing.

‘I’ve been where you are, remember, and nothing you can do will stop whatever’s going to happen,’ Julie continued.

Paula’s blood ran cold. ‘But your husband cheated on you! Multiple times!’ She stared at Julie. ‘Are you saying Tommy’s going to do that?’

‘No, Christ!’ Julie flapped her hand at her friend. ‘I just meant—’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ With tears threatening, Paula grabbed her bags and stood up. ‘I don’t want lunch any more, I’ve lost my appetite.’

Julie’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits, and she sat back and crossed her arms. ‘Fine. You go. I’m staying. I am hungry, and I’m not starving myself for anyone, certainly not a man.’

The words bubbled up and out before Paula could stop them. ‘And don’t we know it,’ she snapped spitefully, tearfully, and turning on her heel, she stalked out of the restaurant.

Chapter 2

In the booth behind Julie and Paula, hidden by the high-backed seat, Anna Masi listened with interest and growing anger. White-hot heat simmered inside her.

How were there women in the world like those two? Women who seemed to have everything – a car, a house, the capacity not to have to work – and yet still were not happy.

Anna appraised her own reflection in the mirrored wall of the coffee shop. She sucked in her cheekbones, angled her face so the harsh lighting bounced off her porcelain image.

‘Elfin’ was what the magazines called people like her. She embraced the description, wearing her hair short, highlighting it carefully so it had a surfer look to it. William called her his little elf too, even though he was far too old to know about it from the fashion magazines she coveted.

Thinking of William made Anna glance at her watch. Time to go. Time to head back to the old boy, cook him his dinner: pie and chips; no organic meat for him, not like the women whose conversation she’d spent the last half-hour listening to.

As she got off the bus and crossed the street towards William’s little terraced house in Ilford, she spotted his neighbour coming out of the house next door. Pausing, she took her beret out of her handbag and pulled it on, pushing her short hair up inside it.

‘Afternoon, love,’ called Mr Henderson as she strode up the path.

She smiled and gave him a friendly wave before hurriedly inserting her key in the lock. The bags she was clutching slowed her down, though, and Mr Henderson held out a hand.

‘Got William’s dinner in there, have you?’ he asked, craning over the waist-high fence. ‘When you going to start looking after me?’ He smiled, though it was really a leer.