Lying in the bath scented with geranium oil, a Jo Malone candle flickering on the windowsill, she looked up at the ceiling and sighed, allowing the comforting warmth of the water to wash over her and soothe her aching bones.

It wasn’t only bereavement that was bruising her soul, not just the loss of their dear, dear Solomon, though that in itself was debilitating enough; and it wasn’t only the draining pain of seeing her best friend suffer such catastrophic heartache. No, there was another issue that kept swirling around in her head.

Lana.

After the funeral, back at the Kelly house, Judith had gone for some fresh air, seeking an escape from the suffocating atmosphere of whisky, tears and condolences. Lana had obviously had the same idea, and Judith could see she, too, was alone, smoking on the front garden bench, glass of wine in hand. Lana hadn’t seen her, so Judith decided to creep back inside, undetected. But standing in the doorway watching her was Jack.

‘Don’t be such a coward, Mother,’ he whispered, handing her an empty glass and a half-full bottle of Malbec. ‘Go and say something, for God’s sake.’

She felt like a petulant schoolgirl reluctantly obeying instructions.

‘When are you heading back to Cardiff?’ she asked, and Lana jumped slightly, disturbed from her reverie.

‘Oh Christ, Judith … Umm … tomorrow, I guess. Thursday, maybe.’

‘Right.’

Silence.

Judith didn’t wait to be invited and sat on the bench next to her, pouring herself some of the wine before filling Lana’s glass – a small, tentative gesture.

‘Thanks,’ said Lana.

‘I’d propose a toast, but maybe that’s inappropriate.’

Lana shrugged, staring straight ahead, then a few moments later blurted out, ‘I know nothing about you, y’know. Catrin doesn’t tell me anything.’

‘Ditto,’ replied Judith with a little smile.

And more awkward silence ensued.

‘Christ, it’s like being on a Tinder date, this!’ Lana drained her glass.

‘I wouldn’t really know about Tinder,’ Judith replied, realizing instantly that she’d sounded frosty. She knew she had a habit of doing that when she was nervous, and understandably Lana reacted defensively.

‘No, you wouldn’t have needed Tinder, seeing as you’ve been happily married to my old boyfriend for the past thirty years.’

‘Oh, this was a mistake,’ said Judith, and she got up to leave, but Lana put out her hand gently to stop her.

‘I’m sorry. That was really childish of me.’

Judith sighed and sat back down. ‘Right, let’s start again, shall we?’

But then the strangest, most unexpected thing happened.

‘Actually Jude, let’s not.’

Judith was thrown. Had she even heard properly?

‘Thing is, mate,’ Lana continued, ‘there was a time when I’d have taken your arm off for an olive branch like that. God only knows over the years I’ve tried. I’ve endlessly attempted to apologize, to explain, to make amends, and with each attempt you knock me back …’

‘I know,’ said Judith quietly, her mind blown by this unexpected reversal of their usual dynamic. ‘And I’m sorry.’