She heard keys in the lock and groaned – she’d planned to be safely hidden upstairs before either of her parents got home. Now her mother would smell it on her and there would be more cross words. She rummaged around in the cupboard under the sink for an air freshener. She found an old can of Oust and pressed the sticky nozzle. It sprayed up rather than out and went straight up her nose. She coughed and spluttered, rubbing her nose with her hands, trying to shake out the sensation of a nasal enema.

‘Minnie, that you?’ called her mother.

‘Uh-huh,’ Minnie called out, quickly hiding the packet of cigarettes in the bread bin.

‘Why’re you looking so suspicious?’ asked her mother.

‘I’m not.’ Minnie clasped her hands behind her back.

Her mother wore black leggings and a top with beige and red patterns across it. It looked like the kind of fabric you found on bus seats. The top was stretching at the seams; her mother had put on weight recently and the eczema on her arms had spread up her neck and around her hairline in angry red patches.

‘You never stay at Greg’s any more,’ her mother remarked as she picked up the kettle and started filling it from the tap.

‘Greg and I broke up,’ Minnie said flatly.

Her mother looked over at her, dropping the kettle down in its cradle.

‘I’m sorry to hear that, you never said.’

Minnie shrugged. Her mother stuck out her bottom lip, her eyes creasing into slits.

‘What’s that face for?’ Minnie asked.

‘Greg seemed like a sensible boy – steady job, rents his own place.’

Minnie exhaled loudly. Her mother watched her closely, cogs whirring. ‘He ditched you?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Minnie.

‘Oh Minnie, you’re not twenty-one any more. When are you going to learn to stick something out?’

Minnie shook her head. She felt a tide of tears build instantly behind her eyes. Her mother’s words had knocked a barely healed scab and the skin beneath was paper-thin.

She watched her mother go through the ritual of making tea, pouring the water from a height, pressing the teabag against the side of the cup with the back of a spoon. There was something strangely comforting about the way her mother made tea.

‘I fell out with Leila too, so now I’m totally mate-less.’

Minnie felt her shoulders start to heave and suddenly she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her mother was not usually good with tears, yet to Minnie’s surprise she put an arm around her, led Minnie through to the lounge and sat her down with the cup of tea she’d made for herself. Through sniffing sobs she extracted the whole sorry tale from Minnie; about the fight with Leila, the conversation with Ian, Quinn trying to help them out by ordering pies for his clients but none of it being enough to rescue the business.