‘Can I have a cupcake?’ he asked, apparently noticing the smear of frosting already on Miles’s face. ‘Pleeeeease.’ He was looking at his mother for permission, rather than Rachel, and to Rachel’s surprise Tully nodded.

‘Did you want me to make the omelette first?’ Rachel asked, and Tully just shrugged. It was alarming. She’d always been so controlling with the boys – what they ate, who they played with, how they spoke. For her to be suggesting McDonald’s and allowing them to have a cupcake before dinner, something must be very wrong.

‘Sit down,’ Rachel said to Tully firmly, gesturing to an armchair. ‘Tell me what’s going on. You’re selling your house?’

‘Yes.’

‘Moving somewhere bigger and better?’

Tully laughed sadly. ‘Wouldn’t that be nice? No.’

‘Okay,’ Rachel said slowly.

‘And because I know you’re too polite to ask why’ – Tully lowered her voice and glanced pointedly at the boys, though it was unnecessary because they were utterly consumed by their cupcakes – ‘it’s because we’ve lost our money in a bad investment.’

‘Seriously?’

Tully nodded.

Wordlessly, Rachel walked to the kitchen, poured a large glass of wine and carried it back to her sister, stopping to hand the boys another cupcake each on the way past. She sat down again and instructed Tully to drink.

‘Wow,’ Rachel said, once Tully had had a few deep gulps. ‘That’s . . . I had no idea.’

‘It’s a reasonably new thing. I’m still getting my head around it myself. I mean, I know it’s happened, but I keep thinking that somehow we’ll be able to keep the house. We’ll . . . I don’t know – win the lottery or something.’

The lottery. It gave Rachel an idea. She walked into her bedroom, picked up the plastic bag she’d stuffed the cash into, and returned, thrusting the bag at Tully.

Tully looked at it warily. ‘What’s this?’

‘Consider it a lottery win,’ Rachel said. ‘I mean . . . it’s not millions of dollars. But ninety-seven thousand-odd dollars should help, right?’

‘Ninety-seven thousand dollars?’ Tully said. ‘Good God, Rachel. Where did you get this?’

‘Found it,’ Rachel said. ‘Stuffed inside a hot-water bottle that belonged to Mum.’

Tully shook her head. ‘What?’

‘It’s true,’ Rachel said. ’Bizarre as it sounds.’

‘But where would Mum get this kind of money? And why would she keep it in a hot-water bottle?’ Tully pulled out a fistful of cash and looked at it closely, as if expecting it to be fake. ‘Does Dad know?’

‘I told him,’ she said. ‘But he doesn’t have a clue where it came from either. He just told me to keep it.’

‘He told you to keep it?’ Tully said, affronted. ‘Just like that? Without even consulting me?’

‘I guess he assumed that you were doing okay financially,’ Rachel said. ‘As did I. If I’d known the truth, I would have given it to you immediately.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ Tully said without hesitation, and Rachel felt relieved. It was true, Rachel never knew how Tully would react to things on a day-to-day basis, but she knew that when push came to shove, Tully had her back. She was glad that Tully knew the same applied to her. That knowledge had been a strange, powerful undercurrent to her life. Rachel experienced a sudden swell of gratitude for it.