‘Here we are, love,’ Mum says as she turns off the engine and I am surprised to find myself outside her two-bed semi on the edge of Knowle. ‘Let’s get you in.’

She reaches over and unbuckles my seat belt, then gets out of the car and disappears from view. A second later she is beside me and I feel a rush of cool air on my face as she reaches for my hand. ‘Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you inside.’

She leads me towards the front door and I stumble after her like a child who’s just learned to take its first steps. She turns the key in the lock and gently ushers me into the lounge. She angles me towards the sofa and I land heavily as my feet disappear from beneath me.

‘Tea,’ she says under her breath as she disappears back out through the living-room door.

Sounds drift towards me from the kitchen: a tap running, a kettle boiling, mugs clanking together and my mother speaking in a low voice.

‘I’ve rung Mark and Jake,’ she says as she reappears beside me, two steaming mugs of tea in her hands. ‘I’ve told them you’ll be staying with me for a bit. They were both concerned, of course. They want to come and see you but I told them you need a break, just for a few days.

‘I put some sugar in yours,’ she says as she presses the mug into my hands. ‘Good for the shock.’

I don’t know what Sonia said to her. She took Mum into another room when she came to collect me. When they reappeared my mother’s eyes were red and shiny. Sonia had promised me that anything I told her was strictly confidential but, in that moment, I didn’t care if she’d told Mum everything. I just wanted her to get me out of that room.

I drink my tea, draining every last drop as my mother sits beside me, her eyes never once leaving my face. She takes my empty mug away when I’m finished and places it on the floor in front of the sofa.

‘Do you want to talk?’ she asks. ‘Would it help?’

I am so exhausted I can only manage a single word.

‘Sleep.’

‘Of course. I’ve got the spare room made up.’ She reaches for my hand and helps me to my feet.

Together we walk up the stairs, Mum leading, me following, my hand drifting along the same banister I slid down as a child.

She pulls back the covers of the double bed that nearly fills my childhood room. Piles of cardboard boxes bursting with clothes, toys and ornaments take up the rest of the space. To get onto the bed I have to sit on the end and crawl up to the pillow.