‘I’m just remembering being here. Before. With Heather. Remember how Goldie used to be obsessed with my slippers. Those pig ones?’

Margot chuckles. The sound lifts me. ‘I’d forgotten that. I miss the dog.’

‘Did you ever get another after she passed away?’

Margot shakes her head. ‘No. Too much had happened by then.’

‘Margot, I –’

I’m interrupted by a tall man striding into the kitchen from the back door, bringing with him fresh air and the faint smell of rain. He’s tall and outdoorsy, with a padded gilet and heavy boots, handsome in a rugged Bear Grylls type of way. In his arms, he has a small boy, who can’t be more than eighteen months old. He has on soft biscuit-coloured corduroy dungarees and is chewing a plastic toy giraffe. By his red cheeks and gnawing I can tell he’s teething. I’ve learned a lot about babies from Rory’s brothers’ kids. He has a mass of dark curls and eyes like Heather’s. I smile at him and he ducks his head behind the man’s shoulder.

Heather’s husband and son.

My heart contracts. They must be going through hell.

Margot stands up. ‘Adam. What are you doing here? I thought you were staying at Gloria’s.’

He scowls. ‘I refuse to let those parasites drive me out of my own home.’ He turns to me, his brow furrowed. ‘Are you one of them?’

I avert my eyes. ‘I … Well, I’m –’

‘She’s a friend of the family,’ interjects Margot, much to my surprise. ‘She was Heather’s best friend at school. This is Jessica Fox. And this is Heather’s husband, Adam.’

‘Heather’s never mentioned you,’ he says, fixing me with his cold, hard stare. It’s like he’s punched me in the stomach. Heather and I were friends for such a short time in the grand scheme of things but our friendship meant something. It was important. Did she not feel the same? Did I hurt her so badly she refused ever to think of me again? She never knew what I did back then. It’s a secret I’ve carried with me all these years. I shake my head to stop my thoughts. What’s happening to me? Being here again, in Margot’s home, in her kitchen with all the memories, is harder than I thought it would be.

Adam turns back to Margot. ‘Ethan wanted his own bed. He’s been crying for his mother.’