‘Yeah.’ I sense a tightness in my throat. Why did you do this to us? I want to blurt out. What was so dreadful about our situation that you had to have a drunken fling and then carry it on for months on end, behind my back, and fall in love with her? If it had been a one-night stand, and he’d been genuinely remorseful, it might not have finished us off. I’d have been hurt and furious – but quite possibly, we might have got over it. I know lots of people do.

I’m aware of Andy studying me. ‘You seem a bit down,’ he adds.

‘Honestly, I’m fine,’ I say as we stand there at the doorway, with him still looking concerned, and me wanting to talk to him, to someone, to anyone really – but not about us, or his new woman. Instead, I find myself telling him about the museum being in dire straits, and Isla and I coming up with the initial idea for the fashion show. I pour it all out: about my proposal, the crazy vandalism, the attempted freeing of the taxidermy – and now nothing. No money, no resources, no interest in Girl Friday; it’s just not the right time. Hannah Jeffers from the museum has since emailed me:

We really appreciate all the thought and effort you’ve put into this. I think it’s a wonderful idea and perhaps it might have wide appeal across our city. But sadly, we are not in a position at present to take this any further.

Andy sighs. ‘Sounds like you put an awful lot of work into it.’

‘I did,’ I say, ‘but that’s not the point. I don’t really mind about that. What I do mind is that I know it’d be great for the museum, and for Penny. I mean, her son thought it was a fantastic idea.’

‘Yes, but he would, wouldn’t he?’ Andy remarks.

I frown. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘Well, she’s his mum, isn’t she? And he’s obviously proud of her.’

‘Andy,’ I start, ‘she was a renowned designer. She was incredibly successful and influential. You’re making it sound as if she won first prize in the Victoria Sponge section of a village show.’

He laughs, with a hint of exasperation. ‘I don’t mean it like that. I’m aware of what she did, Viv.’ He isn’t really, but never mind. ‘Of course her son would love to see her designs on a catwalk, and a whole exhibition dedicated to her …’

‘Not just her son, Andy. It could be huge!’

He peers at me as if I have taken leave of my senses. ‘D’you really think so? I mean, isn’t it a bit niche?’

‘Of course not,’ I retort. ‘Every woman of a certain age remembers the boutiques, especially from round here. This is where it all started.’