I’m still holding my phone when it rings, making me jump. I have a fleeting hope that maybe it’s her. But, no. It’s Celia. I think about ignoring it as I don’t feel up to chatting right now. But maybe what I need is a friendly voice, so I take a breath and hit reply.

‘Hi, Celia. How are you?’

‘Sweetheart, I just saw Cassie’s dreadful magazine article.’

‘News travels quickly.’ I sound more upbeat than I feel.

‘I know. Pauline from Neighbourhood Watch emailed it to me. I think she took a small amount of pleasure in asking if my daughter-in-law worked for a local salon, when she knows full well you do.’

‘Great. That means everyone will have seen it by this evening.’

‘Are you all right, love?’

‘Not really.’ My voice wobbles.

‘I thought you might need cheering up, so I’m sitting up the road in Angelique’s Café and I’ve ordered us two vegetable soups and some crusty bread rolls. Can you make it? Or are you too busy?’

Bless my mother-in-law. I check my watch and see that I have forty minutes until my next appointment. ‘Celia, I’ll be there in five minutes.’

‘Wonderful. I’m at the back by the newspaper rack.’

I shrug on the wet parka I was wearing earlier, pull on my boots, grab my umbrella and slip out the back way. Maybe Jennifer will have calmed down by the time I return.

Angelique’s is buzzing with the lunch crowd, but I see Celia waving me over as soon as I walk through the door. I pick my way through the tables, nodding to various friends and acquaintances as I go, conscious of my bedraggled hair and second-hand clothing, and even more conscious that they might have read Cassie’s piece and realise she was referring to me.

My mother-in-law stands and greets me with a big hug that almost has me collapsing into tears. But I remember where I am and manage to hold myself together.

‘Your hair’s wet. Didn’t you use your umbrella?’

‘It’s a long story.’ I hang my coat on the back of my chair just as the waitress comes over with our lunch. I didn’t think I was hungry, but as I get a waft of garlicky soup, I can’t wait to dig in. ‘Can you believe that article she wrote?’

‘Some people are just nasty. There’s nothing you can do about it. Let’s eat.’

I lean back in my chair for a moment and let my mother-in-law’s words soak in. Surprisingly, they make me feel a lot better. Instead of being anxious about the article, I should just accept that there’s nothing I can do about it and move on. I’ve apologised to Jennifer, and if she thinks about what happened, she’ll know it’s not my fault.