Two weeks before, and after one too many cocktails, she’d told her friends how wonderful it had been to see her two children embarking on the first step of their exciting future, Remi off to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Freya to the Sorbonne. ‘They’re living their dream, their future perfectly mapped out,’ she’d said, slurring her words slightly. ‘For the first time in twenty years, it’s only me and Jack.’ It was easy to be enthusiastic after a few drinks; she didn’t mention that she found the house too quiet, and she wondered what she and Jack were going to talk about now that their children had left. Flown the nest. It was an expression she hated. It implied they wouldn’t come back, but of course they would. It was into that moment of doubt that one of her friends had dropped what had seemed like a wonderful suggestion.

‘All this extra time on your hands now, you should have a party.’

A party! ‘That’s a brilliant idea,’ Molly had said, lifting her glass. ‘And you’re all invited.’

The next morning, her head thumping with the first hangover she’d had in too many years to remember, she mentioned the plan to Jack.

‘Great,’ he’d said. ‘But have it on a Friday night. It will suit my work colleagues better; a lot don’t like to come back into the city on a Saturday.’

Molly had been thinking of friends rather than work colleagues, but she shrugged. A few more people wouldn’t make a huge difference and it would be nice to have some of her work colleagues over too. What, after all was the point in having the perfect house to entertain, if they never did? ‘Fine, fine,’ she’d said. ‘We’ll have it on a Friday night.’

And tonight, was that night.

With no idea what time it was, she leapt from the bed and dashed out to the landing where an ornate clock stood on the windowsill. It had been given to them as a wedding present, twenty-two years before. Jack loved it, she detested it, but she had to give it credit, it kept perfect time, and it told her clearly, she was very late.

Back in the bedroom, she plugged her phone in to charge and dressed quickly in her standard workday clothes of tailored black trousers, white shirt and black jacket. As a single woman, she’d been an adventurous dresser, and would think nothing of spending an hour or more putting her look together in the morning. Marriage hadn’t altered her routine much, but the arrival of the children had. Returning to work after maternity leave, she discovered the convenience of wearing a smart trouser suit. Initially, she’d matched it with a variety of coloured shirts, but one day she bought a white Armani shirt and from then on she wore one every single day.