The times Minnie had imagined meeting this woman, this villain from her childhood, the person who’d upset her own mother so much, she’d imagined all the things she would say. Now she was here, she didn’t want to say anything, she just wanted to listen.

Tara explained how much Connie’s help had meant to her, how alone she’d felt during labour, how close to breaking point she had been.

‘Connie told me the story of the name Quinn, and it was as if this light went on in the darkness. My body was being pulled in two and this name, Connie’s face – it was the only part of reality I could hold on to.’ Tara looked up at the ceiling, temporarily lost in thought. ‘When the baby was born, I couldn’t think of any other name that would do. I wanted to have a Quinn too – a tribute to your mother and the help she gave me. I didn’t even think about the stupid newspaper competition; it didn’t cross my mind she wouldn’t call you Quinn too.’

Now Tara was looking at her, waiting for some response.

‘You were all over the papers. Quinn’s not a common name. My dad thought they’d look silly if they chose the same name as the baby in the news.’

‘I tried to find Connie afterwards, I couldn’t remember her surname. I even looked at the birth announcements for another Quinn. The hospital wouldn’t give me her details. I thought maybe she’d get in touch with me.’

Quinn came back into the room and put a tray of tea things down on the large ottoman-style coffee table.

‘Don’t get too worked up,’ he said, pressing a hand gently onto his mother’s shoulder. She reached up to squeeze it and Minnie felt another pang for this closeness between them. She didn’t have that kind of relationship with her mother.

‘And now I hear all these years later that she despises me, that I’d stolen your name and you’ve been seething with resentment all these years. I can’t bear it,’ Tara let out a sniff and pressed the back of her hand to her nose, her eyes welling with tears.

‘Well, I wouldn’t say seething exactly.’ Minnie felt her cheeks go pink. She started biting the nail on her left thumb, then yanked it away from her mouth and sat on her hands.

‘I would love to see Connie again, to tell her how sorry I am. When I think what she must have thought of me.’

‘It’s only a name, I shouldn’t worry about it,’ Minnie said, reaching out to pat Tara’s hand.

Over Tara’s shoulder she saw Quinn mouthing ‘only a name?’ at her. Minnie narrowed her eyes at him; he was relishing this.