‘But what do you want—’ He broke off, his eyes on her. ‘What about us? Are you ever going to get back what you think you’ve lost?’

Janie turned away and watched Lottie clambering down the steps of the trampoline. Behind her Ella stood, clutching a netball, shouting something at her sister that Janie couldn’t hear. All of a sudden the ball left her hands and landed with a thump on the top of Lottie’s head.

Janie winced as she waited for tears from her youngest, which – to her surprise – didn’t come.

‘Janie.’ Harry reached over and took hold of her hand, and by instinct she pulled it away. For a moment they were both silent as they looked at the table, their hands only inches apart, though it felt like an interminable gap between them.

It was easier when they weren’t talking so honestly, Janie thought. When there were no questions from Harry that she had to answer, when she could drift through the days, pretending.

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

Harry held a hand over his mouth, rubbing his lips with his fingertips. His eyes searched hers. ‘Do you want to try?’ he asked eventually.

‘I don’t know,’ she said again, more quietly, with a small flick of her head.

Beside her, Harry stilled. The air between them was deathly silent. Janie closed her eyes. She knew it was going to be a long stretch ahead. If she left him now, how would he cope? Would he lay that on her? Would he beg her to stay, because he wouldn’t be able to do this without her? In many ways she could imagine her husband doing just that, and yet Harry eventually said, ‘I love you, Janie. I want you to be happy, and if that’s not with me …’ His words broke and she felt the sorrow balling tightly in her throat as her mind flooded with too many thoughts to bear. ‘I think we need to be honest with each other.’

Janie nodded. She would be honest with him. Not about everything, maybe. Not about the fact that she was seeing Mia, and that she’d been giving her family money, to help with Jess. But she would finally be honest about what she wanted.

Chapter Forty-Three

Mia glanced up as the visitors rolled in. She had begun to recognise most of them now and always had to watch every one of them enter the room, before her mum finally appeared at the end of the line.

She looked older than ever today. Her frail body was even more stooped than usual and her face was pale, deep eye sockets shadowed with dark circles, but then Mia supposed she looked no better herself. Her hair was growing out, shapeless strands touching her shoulders now, the roots showing, and her nails were bitten low and ragged.

‘How are you, love?’ her mum said as she sat down.