It hadn’t been easy for her and Mario to talk so freely. Dismantling years of secrecy meant they were a different couple now, different individuals, stripped back and exposed, but what was left was genuine, raw and honest. Reminiscent of the young couple who had first lain on a blanket together in the park: a couple with the whole world at their feet.

Jake, Daniel and Natalie, aware of how she and Mario had been so totally floored, offered support without interference, checking in when they could, enveloping their parents in warm hugs of reassurance, like their very own flag-wavers at the end of a race, cheering them on. Come on, Mum and Dad! You can do it!

And she believed them: yes, they could.

Bess had also learned to let go of her guilt about Michelle. With Dr Meredith’s help, she understood that because of the circumstances of their estrangement, heavily linked to her pregnancy, her old friend held a disproportionate amount of space in her head, but to continue to think about her every day, to worry about how their relationship had ended and even to hold on to misplaced resentment or envy, served nothing positive. It only kept her rooted in a dark time in her life. Bess had left her therapy session after the discussion, keen to get home. Sitting at the kitchen table, she pulled the pad from her bag on which she scribbled shopping lists and notes to herself and twisted the top off her ballpoint.

So, my lovely Michelle,

I don’t know what to write to you. I don’t even know what to say to you. My mind is racing and I feel so sick. So I’m just going to get it out, write it down. You were right: I grieved too when our friendship ended. But here’s the thing: I had a relationship with Lawrence, your Lawrence. Actually not a relationship . . . sex. We had sex.

We had an agreement to keep our meet-ups secret and, as much as I hated it, I kept it from you, true to my word. Tony Dunlop ambushed me at the rugby club. It’s not easy for me to recall that night, even after all this time. He said the most hurtful things and promised to tell everyone what he knew. I was so scared, so broken and ashamed. I don’t know if he told you or if someone else did – I suspect they may have.

But what no one knows is that I got pregnant. Strangely, I had not considered this might be a consequence – naive and stupid, I know. But that’s what happened. I had a baby, Michelle, a little girl, and Lawrence is her dad. That little girl is now thirty-six. I named her Ellory.

Not that anyone could have told you about the baby, as no one knew, not Lawrence, not anyone.