‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘I understand, but maybe I can help?’

Indie looked up and Angie could see her tear-stained face. She glared angrily at Angie, as though she desperately needed to direct her rage somewhere and had decided that Angie was as good a person as anyone. ‘Since when have you ever helped me?’

Angie tried to stay calm. ‘You’re upset but I’m not sure that’s fair.’

‘Of course you’re not.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Indie sat up straight now and Angie could see her daughter preparing for battle.

‘You don’t care about anyone but yourself and your work. You’re never at home and when you are, you’re on your laptop or phone the whole time anyway. When I try to talk to you, you treat me like I’m one of your stupid clients. You pretend to care about me but you don’t.’

Angie was caught completely off guard by her daughter’s explosion. ‘Indie, where has this come from? I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong here.’

‘No of course you don’t! This is what I’m talking about,’ Indie stormed. ‘Nothing is ever your fault, is it!’

Angie took a deep breath, feeling her holiday glow quickly evaporating. ‘Okay, let’s start again,’ she began. ‘What happened?’

‘I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.’

They were going round in circles, so Angie stood up and sighed. ‘Okay, Indie, I’ll leave you to it but I’ll be downstairs if you need me and if you want to talk, I’m always here.’

‘But that’s it,’ Indie said. She seemed disappointed that her enemy was leaving when she was in the fighting mood. ‘You’re not here for me. You’re not here for anyone but yourself. Have you even asked me how things are at school? Do you even care? Everyone acts like you’re this amazing person, this Superwoman, and you play up to it. You think you’re better than everyone else. The way you talk to us, the way you talk to Dad…’

Angie pounced immediately. ‘What do you mean, the way I talk to Dad?’

‘Forget it.’ Indie recoiled slightly, realising perhaps that she’d pressed the wrong button.

‘No, Indie, I won’t forget it. What do you mean?’

Indie looked her mother. ‘You talk to him like he’s a child. You belittle him. It’s no wonder he needs a break from you sometimes.’

Her words hit Angie like a train. Indie had been accusing before but she had never gone this far. She was torn between outrage that her daughter was talking to her in this manner and terror at the words she was saying. Because if her teenager thought it, then did it mean that everyone else thought it too? And, worse still, did Indie know something that she didn’t about Jack?

‘What are you implying?’ Angie could feel herself standing taller and squaring up to Indie now, a lioness showing her dominance over a cub. Indie was old enough to remember when she’d thrown Jack out for a few days: was she talking about that? Or was there something else? She moved a step closer to Indie.