April tried her best to memorise names and keep a mental note of their individual circumstances, but it was difficult to keep track when her thoughts kept tugging her back to why she was there and how much she should share. What she did manage to glean was that some members had endured watching their loved ones’ health decline whilst others had suffered the shock of losing their partners in the blink of an eye. Some had children, others did not. They were all different, and yet whenever someone raised a gripe about a world that didn’t understand them, there were nods of agreement around the room.

‘I told myself I should get out more,’ a woman was saying. She glanced over at April and Nick to catch their eye. ‘I’m Jodie, by the way. My husband went out to play five-a-side one night and never came home. Heart attack. He died right there on the pitch two and a half years ago. He was twenty-seven.’ Jodie pursed her lips and there was a spark of anger, or was it disbelief behind her eyes? April had felt both.

‘I’m sorry,’ April replied, her first contribution to the group beyond a couple of indecipherable mumbles. Nick had been quiet too, listening intently as he pulled at the starched cuffs of his pristine white shirt.

‘So, where was I?’ Jodie asked with forced cheeriness, only to find she couldn’t continue. She tipped back her head and blinked hard for a second or two before straightening up. ‘You’d think I’d be able to control these flipping tears by now. Can you believe I went a whole week without crying last month? Honestly, I’m so sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise, not here,’ Tara reminded her.

‘I know, but sometimes it would be nice to say what I want to say without breaking down. It’s not like it was something sad, not really. All I wanted to share was that I bit the bullet and went out clubbing with my mates the other week,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t looking to meet anyone, but all my friends are in couples and they’re desperate to hook me up with someone new. They spent the entire night striking meerkat poses to check out potential candidates.’

‘Did you mind?’ asked Justine.

‘Not really, or not at first. I know they just want to see me happy again.’