And then of course there had been her most cherished and precious of all companions … her beautiful, golden-haired boy: her very own Everleigh. Emil had wanted to name him Frederick, but she had insisted on Everleigh. When he was a baby, she had even given him his namesake’s white rattle with a blue tortoise on it as something of a talisman, and he had survived childhood … had grown up happy and healthy. And then the war had come. But that was still too painful to think about.

Feeling very fortunate to have two very handsome men in her life, Kuki had been a faithful wife and a devoted mother. She understood that her marriage was far from perfect, but what marriage ever was? She had known of Emil and his … exploits long before she married him. Yes, perhaps she had once hoped that in having married her, his roving eye would cease to wander, but when it had carried on unbridled, she could not really blame him for something she had always known was in his nature, now could she?

Early in their marriage, she had reasoned that while he was brave and strong, he also had a weakness, and that his affairs were not a means to be cruel, but rather a force of habit. She hardly gave a thought to his philandering, preferring instead to think about what it was like to be held in his arms at night … the tenderness of it … the gentle cradle … the unexpected softness of touch. Especially on those birthday nights after they had shared a slice of chocolate cake, and Emil held her carefully … delicately … as if she was a fragile, precious and rare thing.

Now Kuki was sitting in front of a mirror, putting on her face for the party. The party just for her. As she applied her lipstick, she caught herself humming a tune: ‘Wake Up Little Susie.’ There was the sound of a car approaching; B was driving up the driveway. Kuki froze as she recalled hearing Everleigh, her beautiful, golden-haired boy, say to his father, before going off to war: ‘You know what she does? What she has always done since I can remember? She waits to hear your car in the driveway, and then starts to sing. And do you know why she does this? She does this so that you, who have never tried to make her happy, will think that she is happy.’ Kuki heard B slam the car door shut and make her way to the front door. So she was still pretending at happiness.

Had she become so practised at pretending at happiness that she had fooled even herself? When others shone a light on aspects of her marriage that had, until then, been in the dark, Kuki could not help but wonder if she had created the darkness herself so as not to see the truth about the environment she believed she thrived in.