I tell her about Kira screaming, the booze, the cut foot, Jake’s interruption and the argument when we all got home.

‘I’m just so tired,’ I say as she swipes a box of tissues from the windowsill and pushes them towards me. ‘I just want Billy to come home and for this to be over. I miss him, Liz. I miss him so much.’

‘I know,’ she says. ‘I know you do.’

I pull a tissue from the box and dab at my cheeks. I hate that my default emotional reaction is crying. I wish I could shout and scream or punch something instead.

‘Sorry,’ I say.

‘For what? If you can’t snot all over your best friend’s kitchen where can you?’

I try not to cry in front of Mark and Jake because I don’t want them to worry about me but it’s different with Liz. Her kitchen is a safe haven. We’ve known each other since Liz and Lloyd moved next door when the boys were little. They’d play in the back garden while Liz and I would sit on deckchairs and chat. It was a tentative friendship at first, as we sussed each other out, but it wasn’t long before we started taking it in turns to do the school run and the odd bit of babysitting. The first time we went out for drinks we got so drunk we stopped being polite and properly opened up. We were both in tears by the end of the night. Since then we’ve been there for each other through everything – Lloyd walking out on Liz last year, my father-in-law’s heart attack and now Billy.

‘What you going to do now then?’ she asks, snapping off another piece of Galaxy and popping it into her mouth.

‘I need to get Mark and Jake in the same room as each other so they can sort out their differences.’

‘Claire …’ Liz reaches across the table and puts her hand over mine. ‘I’m only saying this because I love you but maybe you should let them sort it out in their own time. You’re going to make yourself poorly if you don’t let go.’

‘Let go of what?’

‘Of them. You’re not responsible for everyone else’s happiness, sweetheart.’

‘None of us are happy.’

‘Least of all you.’ She gives me a searching look. ‘Mark and Jake are going to butt heads from time to time – you need to accept that.’

‘They’ll kill each other if I don’t intervene.’

‘They won’t.’

‘Jake will move out.’

She makes a soft, sighing sound. ‘Would that be the worst thing in the world? He’s nineteen years old. He makes a good living as an electrician. He could afford a one-bedroom flat.’

‘What about Kira?’