I take my tuna mayo sandwich from my bag, unwrap it and bite into it hungrily. I hadn’t realised how starving I was. The air is chilly, and the seat is damp. Not exactly sitting-on-a-bench-on-a-hill weather, but I don’t mind. I’ll soon warm up after I get back to the salon. I try to concentrate on my lunch and not let past hurts and future worries creep in, but I’m not very successful. I wish I could be one of those people who live in the now. Who can meditate and remain calm. Do those people really exist though? Or are they just pretending to have all the answers to life?

Before leaving for work this morning, I told Toby that Madeline still hadn’t replied to my WhatsApp message. He tried to convince me that Madeline’s fine with me. The thing is, I really don’t think he and Nick are attuned to these kinds of situations. It’s like being back at school when some alpha girl would be passive-aggressively bitchy to me, and most of the boys would be oblivious and think I was being oversensitive. It’s a subtle thing, but it’s a real thing. And while Madeline isn’t being bitchy, she’s definitely avoiding me for some reason. Meanwhile Toby thinks I’ve got no reason to worry.

The only other person I could possibly speak to about this is Celia. But then I’d be putting her in an awkward situation where she’d be caught in between her two daughters-in-law. Oh, this is so frustrating. I desperately want Toby to be right, and for it to be a simple misunderstanding. But I’m not holding my breath.

As I’m chewing over my dilemma – and my sandwich – something catches my eye at the base of the hill… It looks as if someone’s coming out of my house! It can’t be Toby, because he said he’s working. But who else would it be? An intruder? I get to my feet and hurry to the steps which lead down the hill to my street, fumbling in my bag to call the police. I stop dead when I get close enough to see that it is Toby, and he’s with someone. A woman.