WHEN LOTTIE AND I COME IN, HAVING DROPPED OFF Hannah, Leila and Kai at their respective houses, Cora is reading a book in the garden wrapped up in Nick’s sweater, the one I like to wear, a soft tartan rug over her lap. Tim is on his knees beside the flower bed pulling up a new crop of weeds, Toffee beside him sniffing around, a robin looking down at them from the trellis. It would be an idyllic scene if it wasn’t my garden and my rug and my dog. The house feels like a country under occupation.

‘Have you had a productive day?’ Cora asks, putting the magazine down. ‘It’s been lovely and quiet here.’

‘I’ve done everything I needed to.’

Do I tell her about the email and my meeting with Angus? I think I ought to, but I can’t bear the idea that she’ll think her son wasn’t valued. She’s so proud of him. I can’t do that to her, not when I’m about to ask her to leave.

‘Cora.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t working for me.’ I wince inwardly, anticipating the fallout. It’s the right thing for me and Lottie. This weekend proved it. I felt unwelcome in my own home.

‘What do you mean?’

I sit down on one of the wooden chairs and lean forward. ‘You and Tim being here,’ I say as gently as I can. ‘I know how you’re feeling, and that you’re as worried as I am, but this is my home, and I’m feeling invaded. Things are difficult enough without having to worry about guests.’

‘You surely don’t see us as guests,’ Tim says, his knees clicking as he stands up. He brushes dirt off his hands. ‘We’re family and we want to help.’

‘I know you do, but I’m all right. Honestly.’ I have coped in the past, I can cope now.

‘Be that as it may,’ Cora says, looking at me as though I’m a sulky teenager. ‘Our house is unavailable, and I hardly think Nick would want his parents out on the streets.’

‘Surely you can afford somewhere to stay. Airbnb?’

‘I must say, I think you’re being very unkind,’ Cora says. ‘You’re not the only one going out of your mind with worry.’

‘Please.’ Even though I know it’s futile I have to try and get through to them. ‘I want to be on my own. Can’t you understand that?’

‘Oh, Grace,’ Tim says. ‘Don’t shut yourself away.’

‘I’m not shutting myself away, I just can’t cope with having other people around.’

‘We’re hardly other people,’ Cora sniffs. ‘We are Nick’s parents. We have a right to be here. If he’s—’