‘She was upset with herself, she wanted me to know what had happened. She called me on Friday night, she was in such a state.’

Laura shuffled on the spot as annoyance built inside her. ‘Well, the fact is she shouldn’t be making mistakes like that,’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm. ‘It was easy for me to notice it was missing. It’s going to cost Coopers—’

‘Laura,’ he sighed, ‘Mia knows all this. She’s been working on it over the weekend. I’m not worried about it, and you certainly don’t need to be, either.’

She went quiet. Any thoughts she had of how the conversation might go had been shot to pieces. All she could now think was, What is the point? What was actually stopping her from telling Harry what he could do with his job? Laura didn’t know if she had the energy to fight.

She imagined what Nate would say if she went home and told him she’d quit. Would he be horrified, or would he understand that not only would he need to go straight back to work, but they’d have to put their house on the market, downsize, potentially move out of the area? They wouldn’t be able to go to Crete in September any more. They’d have to make adjustments. But maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

Laura watched Harry frowning, as he waited for her to say something, and she felt sick that she could be pushed out so easily. She could imagine Mia’s face if she knew Laura had gone, and realised it would be exactly what she wanted.

She shifted on her spot. It would be her family that suffered again if she gave in, and why the hell should they have to? Because of Mia.

The truth was that she had no idea what to do, constantly oscillating between giving up and taking Mia on, and all the time she just wished Harry would listen to her like he always used to.

‘I don’t believe you can do what you’ve done,’ Laura said suddenly. ‘I have rights – to come back to my old job. Legally, you can’t do it.’

‘Laura, let’s not go down that road. Please.’

‘But it’s true.’ She waited, her heart thumping harder now. This was so not how she wanted their conversation to go, especially as her friend, Deborah, had told her she didn’t really have a case. She hated begging for what was rightfully hers, but then maybe the threat would be enough to make Harry see sense. Nothing else was working.

‘You still have your same job,’ he said. ‘You’re on the same level, making the same salary—’