Bridget is still in bed when she hears them arguing, hears the slam of the front door. It’s 10.30 a.m. Probably should be getting up anyway; got to feed Helen’s cat for one.

She finds Toni in the kitchen, her face flushed, her eyes red. ‘Went well then?’

‘She’s impossible. Bloody impossible.’ Two tears trickle down her sister’s cheeks, but they’re tears of frustration and they’re running out of steam. ‘And I made a mess of it as usual. I just… My senses are tingling, Bridge. I can feel that something is wrong. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. And then she just flew off the handle about absolutely nothing.’

‘Oh dear.’ Bridget touches the flat of her hand against the kettle. It’s hot – there’s enough water for coffee.

‘She said she hated me.’ Toni’s voice is high and frail. ‘She told me to F off, Bridge.’

‘Parents fall out with teenagers all the time, Tones. It’s in the manual.’

‘But you don’t fall out with her. She doesn’t tell you she hates you, does she?’

‘That’s a different dynamic, isn’t it?’

‘You always say that.’ The pain shows on Toni’s face; her cheeks sag and she looks so tired. Poor thing. If Bridget had a magic wand, she would wave it, she really would. She’d have waved it a long time ago. She tweaks her sister’s nose like she used to when they still lived in Benson Close.

‘Thing is,’ she says, ‘I am much, much cooler.’

This works, to a degree. Toni manages a smile at least. And at least she talks things through instead of walking round with a sword through her neck saying she’s fine, like that meme Rosie showed her. And she’s talking now, nodding when Bridget holds up the coffee jar. She tells Bridget that she’s shaken – by the coals in her daughter’s eyes, by the way she ran from the house.

‘Biscuit?’ Bridget asks.

Toni shakes her head. ‘I know you think I’m being neurotic, but I know something is not right.’

‘You’re fretting about nothing. Honestly, she’ll be back here in two hours like the cat that got the cream. If you act casual, she’ll probably tell you everything. Maybe you should try telling her something about yourself, you know, from when you were young.’

‘You think so?’

‘Yeah.’ Bridget has no idea, but what else is there to say? ‘Edited, obviously. Maybe leave the crystal bongs out for now.’

After coffee, while Toni’s in the shower, Bridget texts Saph, who she was meant to be meeting later this morning.

Tones not in a good way. Gonna hang out here this morn. Soz, mate.

No prob. Love to u both. Drink later?

Maybe. I’ll text, but if u get a better offer, go for it.

No such thing as a better offer than u, babe.

Bridget smiles. Saph is straight as an arrow, but she’s the world’s biggest flirt.

The water is still running. Bridget decides to clean the top row of cupboards while she waits. It’s at least a year since she last did them. There are some jobs that have stayed hers, and this is one. After the accident, she did everything, pretty much. It was the only thing that made sense. There was no way she could have seen Rosie go to a childminder, not under those circumstances. It was easy enough to build freelance work around the 3.20 p.m. pick-up, and there were one or two mums in the playground who weren’t too bad. Some of them were fucking torture though, with their wooden heads swivelling on their wooden necks, their blonde hair, their smiles thick, as if they had something unsavoury stuck in their teeth.

‘I’m sorry, are you Rosie’s mummy?’

Mummy? What are we, ten? ‘No, I’m her aunt. I’m Toni’s sister.’

The slow nod, the step back. The mouth fighting to stay in shape. They all knew about the accident. But tragedy is in poor taste when there’s a summer fayre to organise, organic carrot batons to hand to their children. No, that’s not fair. Bridget was in a bad place then, she knows that. They were just people, people as fucked up and insecure as anyone else. They meant well. Maybe they didn’t. Who cares? That whole time was chaos. She meant to leave Helen cleanly, set her free, but she’s not even managed that, and now here they are, years later, and not a week has passed without them seeing one another. Bridget knows that if she ever met anyone else, she could never tell Helen, and if there was even one thing she couldn’t tell her, then everything between them would be lost.

And so, abstinence.

Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.