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The kitchen was large and sleek, in lime green and grey, the floor cold as Jenny walked across it barefoot in search of coffee. Hopefully, she opened the cupboard above the kettle and found a myriad boxes of speciality teas and, thankfully, a cafetière and half a packet of filter coffee sealed with a pink plastic food clip. Finding a spoon in a precisely organised drawer, she scooped a few heaped spoonfuls of coffee into the cafetière and waited for the kettle to boil.

Her own house was nothing like this. In her kitchen, she would have had to retrieve a cup from the dishwasher. That’s if the dishwasher had even been turned on the previous evening. If it had been Dan’s turn to stack it, chances were he would have left it open because there was still an egg-cup-sized amount of unfilled space and he was waiting until it was ‘full’.

There was movement upstairs; at least one other person was awake.

Despite the drama, much of last night had been fun. The restaurant had been nice, if you ignored the last ten minutes; the drinking games had been enjoyable, if you forgot about the drink-throwing; even the walk home had been pleasant, if you managed to black out the sobbing, the barbed comments and the subsequent revelations of marital infidelity. It was all about perspective.

The kettle clicked as it boiled and Naomi appeared at the door, her hair wet from the shower. ‘Morning.’

‘Good morning. Would you like some coffee?’

‘Is there any herbal tea?’ Naomi started randomly opening cupboards. The fringes on the hem of her skirt were beaded and they rattled softly as she walked.

‘The tea is in that cupboard over there.’ Jenny motioned with her hand. ‘How are you?’

‘My head feels like it belongs to someone else this morning. Which, considering I only had about half a glass of wine, is rather unfair.’

Jenny brought the cups over to the table and took a seat. ‘Look, Naomi, about last night and what the others said. I don’t think you should make any rash decisions.’

Naomi sighed and sat down, too. ‘I’m not a complete idiot, Jenny.’

Jenny was taken aback. ‘I know you’re not, I just meant—’

‘Look, I know what you all think of me. I didn’t need to read your blog to know you think I’m an airhead hippy with weird and wonderful ideas. I also realise that I don’t really fit in with you all.’

‘That’s not true!’ Jenny lied automatically.

‘I used to feel bad about it,’ continued Naomi. ‘But now I’ve realised that none of us actually fits. Not even you.’

Jenny attempted to protest, but Naomi was right. They didn’t fit. Jenny had spent the last six months trying to hold together a group of five very different women, at least two of whom had good reason to detest one another. What a waste of time.

So why was Naomi smiling?

‘The thing is, I think that that’s okay. We don’t need to be the same. The fact that we are all completely different is a good thing. This weekend could be the making of our friendship.’

‘Ah, yes, well…’ How could she best explain why that might not be the case? That this might be the last time they would be together like this. Which was a little sad. Sadder than she’d expected.

Another set of footsteps was coming down the stairs.

Gail came into the kitchen, dressed in smart trousers and a shirt and carrying her leather overnight bag. She looked from one to the other. ‘Am I interrupting something?’

Jenny got up. She would have to wait to tell Naomi about last night’s main event. ‘No. Would you like some coffee?’

‘That would be great, thanks. Strong and black.’ Gail sat down on a kitchen chair and checked her watch. ‘What time are we going to the station? I’m all packed and ready.’

Naomi stopped blowing on her tea. ‘You’re in an awful rush suddenly. Something we said?’

Gail tapped her fingernails on the table. ‘Just ready to go, that’s all. As the least popular house guest, I’d hate to outstay my welcome.’

Naomi started to plait her damp hair. ‘Why wouldn’t you be popular? What happened after I left last night?’

Jenny put a mug of coffee on the table and waited for Gail to explain. But she didn’t need to. An immaculate Antonia breezed in and took up the story.

‘What happened, my darling, was that Gail confessed to shagging my husband and I informed her that I already knew.’

Naomi froze mid-braid and looked at Gail, who gave a small nod of affirmation.

Jenny couldn’t face a rerun of the previous evening. She just needed to keep things going for a few more hours. ‘So, now we’re all up to date. Coffee, Antonia?’

‘Wonderful idea. And then does anyone want to join me in going out to get some breakfast? I’m desperate for some bacon and pancakes. Anyone else?’

Once again, Antonia was not acting as would have been expected in the presence of her husband’s mistress. Gail, on the other hand, looked shaken, and nothing like her normal confident self. Now wasn’t the right time to mention that, though. Unless you were Naomi.

‘Gail, are you okay? You don’t look right.’

Antonia wheeled around. ‘Is she okay? What about me? I’m the wronged wife here!’

There was a pause.

‘To be fair to Naomi, you don’t seem to be looking for a shoulder to cry on this morning,’ said Jenny. Antonia always looked good, but there was a new lightness about her today. Wearing a brightly patterned linen dress and with bare feet, it was as if she’d just arrived home from a holiday in the sun.

Antonia laughed. ‘You’re right. I’m feeling surprisingly chipper. I made some decisions last night before I went to sleep. I’m not coming back with you. I’m going to stay here for a while. I called my friend and I can stay if I want. Emily, the nanny, is going to bring Jessica later today.’

This was quite a sudden turn around. How much of Antonia’s ‘I can’t do it alone’ speech last night had been an act for Gail’s benefit? She was clever.

‘Are you leaving Geoff?’

Antonia nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I hired a private detective to take some incriminating photographs in case I ever decided I wanted a divorce. He was a dad I met at a baby group – we got talking, he told me what he did and I thought, “Why not?” That day we went clothes shopping, Jen, I met up with him and he gave me the photographs he’d taken.’ She turned to Gail. ‘There’re some gorgeous ones of you.’

The young man in the suit! So that’s why Antonia hadn’t told Jenny about him that day – no wonder they had looked so intense. Could she have got it more wrong?

If Gail looked shaken before, she looked like she might fall to the ground now. ‘Have you told Geoff?’

‘No. I think I’ll let him work it out for himself. It should only take him a few days at most to realise that we’re not there.’ She looked hard at Gail. ‘Why? Are you planning on running around there to tell him?’

Gail waited a few moments before shaking her head. ‘No. I think he and I are done.’

Antonia sat down. Her voice softened. ‘I should hate you, Gail, but I don’t. I think that’s what made up my mind.’

Neither of them looked like they were going to speak again any time soon, and Naomi was standing there with her mouth wide open. Time to sort out the other problem.

‘Has anyone heard from Ruth?’

‘Did she not come home last night?’ asked Naomi. Antonia and Gail reflexively checked their mobiles.

Jenny shook her head. ‘She sent a text to say she had booked into a hotel. I’ll send her another message. If we haven’t heard from her in half an hour, I think we should go and look for her.’

‘But where do you suggest we look?’ asked Antonia.

‘I don’t know… the shops, the beach, anywhere.’ Jenny waved her hands vaguely.

‘She could already be on a train home,’ said Gail.

‘She might be, but do you want to call David and ask him if she’s there? I’d rather just see if I can find her first.’ Plus, Jenny had an idea she knew where to look.