Chris flung the remote at Nevaya. ‘Go now, get out of my sight before I say something I’ll regret.’

Tina was ready to run after her, but Chris dragged her back by her arm. ‘Turn it in, love, leave her to it. If she thinks that much of her mother, then she can pack her bags and go and live with her. I’ve had enough. Wendy won’t give her the time of the day in a few months’ time, you mark my words. She’s always let her down, she’ll never change, ever.’ A ball of misery choked Tina. Scrapping like one of the kids from school – how had it come to this? Yes, she’d always wanted her own child but it hadn’t stopped her giving Nevaya and her brother all the love and support a kid should have. And this was the thanks she got for always being there. You could bet she was the one who would always be there, not her goddamned mother. ‘All of this because she couldn’t be bothered to find the new bottle of conditioner. She’s not on, Chris. You need to support me on this.’

Chris walked out of the room, came back a few seconds later with a can of Foster’s. ‘I need a drink. Fuck only knows what the neighbours think. It never used to be like this.’

Tina stood with her hands on her hips, her bottom lip quivering. He still hadn’t answered her question. She reached for her handbag, pulled out her cigarettes and stuck one in her mouth before walking to the back door and opening it wide. If he wasn’t going to calm her down maybe nicotine would do the trick. She stepped outside, took a long drag – it seemed like forever before she blew a thick grey cloud of smoke from her mouth. She stuck her head round the door, ‘I’ve a good mind to go and see Wendy, find out what her game is. I was never her friend, the lying bitch. And you two were well split up when we started sleeping together. Why is she poisoning the kids against me?’

Chris rubbed his hand on the side of the sofa. ‘I don’t know and to be honest I’m not arsed, Tina. It’s ancient history. Just forget about it. I’ll have a word with Nevaya tomorrow and make her apologise. I’m stressed with it all, look at me drinking on a weeknight.’ There was silence. Tina stepped back inside the house, fag in her hand.

‘Are you for fucking real, Chris? This goes a lot deeper than a bottle of bloody conditioner. She hates me. Otherwise why has she just said all that?’

‘Stop overreacting. It’s a disagreement. Shit happens, just move on and get on with it.’