Jess checks the most recent additions and identifies a character with hair resembling Izzy’s bunches, embellished with a pink bow. She’s a cartoon girl who has been pushed to the floor and hurt her head. Another crudely drawn girl, with fierce black eyes, issues a speech bubble: ‘You wear riffy shoes.’ A second female tormentor chants, ‘Smelly Belly, Smelly Belly.’

Jess replaces the book and leaves her daughter’s room as if she cannot bear to be in the same space as the drawing.

* * *

Penny holds Jess and does what she can to comfort her. Around her strangled sobs, Jess can just about get her words out. ‘She didn’t even see her mum before bedtime.’

‘You can’t always be there, love.’

Tony chips in. ‘Problem with shifts, Jess.’

At the sound of his voice, Jess pulls away from Penny and stalks to her shoulder bag. Without looking at Tony, who’s eager to take part in the conversation, Jess withdraws her purse and takes out a twenty-pound note.

Penny shakes her head. ‘Put it away, Jess. Tone was there before me. He brought her home, put her to bed. I did nothing. Just wanted to see you was okay.’

‘You helped.’

‘I ain’t taking it.’

Jess looks to the ceiling, tearful, beseeching.

Penny comes to her and slips an arm around her shoulder, rests her head on Jess’s.

Tony sidles over too, exchanging a sympathetic but concerned glance with Penny. He carefully places a hand between Jess’s shoulders. But before he gets far with rubbing her back, Jess stiffens and slips away.

He’s left embarrassed and Penny shifts uncomfortably, unable to look at much besides the floor. A tense silence transforms the room into a still life, featuring three subjects who won’t look at each other.

‘I better get off,’ Penny says and makes for her coat.

Jess follows her to the door and into the small reception. Once out of Tony’s earshot she clutches Penny’s arm. ‘Pen. Tomorrow night. They want me to work. Can you take Izz?’

‘I can’t, love. Sorry. I got Helen’s twins already.’

‘No worries. Later, yeah. And thanks for today.’

The women briefly hug before Penny opens the door.

Jess dabs at her eyes and warily returns to the kitchen, straightening her spine to restore the composure she resents abandoning.

‘I can stay for a bit, Jess.’

The front door closes and Jess looks in that direction as if surprised to hear the door, or to avoid Tony’s eyes. ‘No. No, thanks. Thanks for helping. An’ everything. But . . . You know. The terms.’

‘Look. I’m earning good money now, Jess. Nights? They’re no good for Izzy. I can finally get us . . . Get both of you out of this shit-tip.’ He moves towards her again, his face a mask of sympathy, his arms shaping an embrace he hopes she’ll accept.