Abby can’t fault the food – slow-roasted pork – which has been cooked to perfection; it is as though Lillian has spent weeks planning what to cook, when it’s only the four of them, not a formal dinner party. Has she done this to show Abby up? To prove to Rob that he can do better? Her dinners would never live up to Lillian’s. But if the woman believes for one second that Rob cares about how well his wife can cook, then she doesn’t know her son at all.

Although Lillian is on her best behaviour as they eat, it’s clear that Rob is distracted, his mind elsewhere. Abby needs to talk to him, yet that opportunity won’t come for at least a couple more hours.

They’ve just finished eating when Lillian clears her throat. ‘We’ve got something we wanted to run by you,’ she declares, smiling at Eric. ‘To see what you think.’

Rob raises his eyebrows. ‘I’m intrigued.’

‘We know you’ve both worked hard to get the new house, and that things are a bit of a struggle at the moment with Abby not working, so—’

‘Actually, Abby’s got a job interview next week.’ Rob turns to her and smiles, grabbing her hand under the table.

Lillian is taken aback and stares at Abby in silence for a moment. ‘Oh, well, that’s great news,’ she manages to say. ‘We wish you the best of luck with it.’ She places her hand on Abby’s shoulder. ‘And if you don’t get it, there’ll be plenty more, won’t there?’

Eric congratulates her. ‘I’ve never doubted you’d find something quickly,’ he says, ‘Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.’

‘What were you about to say?’ Abby asks, unsure how to take Lillian’s comments. Perhaps she is genuinely pleased; after all, if she gets this teaching post it will mean that Rob’s no longer the main provider, which he has been for months now. No doubt this won’t be sitting comfortably with Lillian, despite her antiquated ideas.

‘Oh, yes.’ Lillian turns to Rob, focuses only on him. ‘Your father and I had an idea, and there’s even more reason now as Abby might be back at work soon.’ She smiles, pleased with herself, even though she’s told them nothing yet. ‘A friend of ours has a villa in Portugal, and he’s offered it to us for next week. You remember the Porters, don’t you, Rob?’

Rob nods vaguely.

‘Anyway, how would you like to come with us? Our treat, of course; you won’t have to spend a thing.’

No, Abby’s mind silently screams. No way. Spending an evening with Rob’s mother is hard enough, let alone a whole week. It would be the end of any pretence the two women have both kept up.