‘Is everything okay in the office?’ she’d ventured, giving him the opening to tell her if there were a problem. She didn’t expect an answer; Jack was notoriously reticent about his job, preferring to keep his work separate from his home life. She’d tried to convince him more than once that it was healthier to talk about things, more cathartic and better for his mental well-being, but each time he’d laugh and accuse her of spouting psychobabble.

‘Everything is fine,’ he’d said, giving her a peck on the cheek along with the answer she’d expected. ‘But that doesn’t mean we can throw away money, Mol. The kids are going to cost us a fortune over the next three to four years.’

‘But we’ve paid for their tuition, Jack.’ She hadn’t wanted to pay it all upfront, it had made a deep dent in their savings, but he’d insisted, and as usual, she’d given in.

‘Accommodation, living expenses and so forth,’ he’d said with a shake of his head, ‘we haven’t paid for that. It’s all going to mount up.’

Molly knew only too well. The Sorbonne wasn’t that expensive but living in Paris certainly was. And as for MIT, it was astronomically expensive to study there and cost almost as much to live in Boston as in Paris. Molly remembered blinking when she’d seen the invoice for three years’ tuition and the first year’s compulsory on-campus accommodation. For a moment, she’d thought they’d put an extra zero in by mistake but no, the six-figure invoice was correct. She’d not told Jack, but her eyes had watered when she’d done rough calculations as to how much both children were going to cost them over the next three years.

Perhaps it wouldn’t do any harm to tighten their belts a little. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she’d said reluctantly, ‘we don’t really need Rebecca anymore.’ Molly felt like a traitor. ‘I’ll speak to her tomorrow and give her a month’s notice.’

Rebecca, as it turned out, wasn’t too surprised. ‘I was beginning to feel a bit of a fraud rattling around here on my own. But I’ll miss you.’

Molly had started to cry, so had Rebecca, the two of them, arms wrapped around each other, consoling themselves for change’s inevitable loss.

She wasn’t gone a day, when the cold hard light of reality dawned on Molly. Despite it being Jack’s idea to get rid of the housekeeper, he wasn’t interested in doing any of the shopping, the laundry or the mountain of ironing Rebecca had done and he still came through the door in the evening expecting a dinner to be ready. When Molly had complained, he cited exhaustion and wiped a hand across his eyes.