Artisan bakeries, healthy cafés and exclusive boutiques were cropping up around Manningham city center. Situated between Leeds and Manchester, the city in the northwest of England was often viewed as their less glamorous neighbor. But things were changing rapidly. Liv passed a new coffee shop called Launderette and another named The Hub. It was virtually impossible to buy a sandwich made without chutney or sourdough bread these days, and property prices were shooting up. When Liv looked around her, she spotted people driving expensive cars and clasping designer handbags, and felt like she didn’t fit in any longer.

In the park, she strolled past the tennis courts toward the three-tiered stone fountain. Her heart pulled when she recalled holding up small versions of Mack and Johnny to toss coins into the water. When they were toddlers she’d fitted her work around them, cleaning in the evenings so she could look after them during the day. She bought them soft fabric books as soon as they were born and read to them throughout their childhood. The three of them spent many happy afternoons wedged on the sofa together, progressing from Where the Wild Things Are, to Diary of a Wimpy Kid, to Harry Potter. She took them to the playground, swimming pool and The Manningham Museum of Writing, and still missed the feel of their small hands in hers. Time had flown by so quickly.

She was delighted Johnny was following Mack to university. He was going to study English literature. Both boys would only be a couple of hours’ travel away, yet it felt like an ocean. She and Jake seemed to have less and less in common these days, and she couldn’t help wondering if their sons were like scaffolding around a crumbling building that might collapse when the supports were removed.

Liv spotted her mum, Carol, heading toward her. She wore a paisley skirt and a loose purple T-shirt with a diamanté star on the pocket. Her auburn curls framed her round face.

“Hiya, love,” she said, her eyes lighting up when she saw Liv. She was a good hugger, using both arms and her body to squash her close. After finding a table inside, Carol set down her bag on a chair and took out an Essie novel.

Liv set hers down, too. “Snap.” She laughed. “We’ve both brought Georgia Rory along for coffee.”

Her mum often joked Liv could read before she could walk. At an early age, she had mastered the art of reading and walking at the same time without tripping up. Family picnics were never complete without Liv and her parents bringing along books to complement the food.