I felt a little deflated as we headed back to Sydney and reality at the end of our week’s road trip. As much as Dan always seemed to push me forward, the circumstances swirling around us pulled me back. Our first summer in Santorini had been a watershed. I’d changed and went on to take my degree and start a new life, but he’d always been in the background, each step bringing me closer to Sydney, and him. And now, here I was being delivered back to Sydney, Dan rushing back to the café and Clover to Saffron. But what about me? I felt like I had when Emma and Rosie left, like I was alone and didn’t belong to anyone or anything.

Dan and I made quick arrangements to catch up in a few days, and I booked two nights in a guest house in the south of the city. Dan had offered again for me to stay at his apartment, but as Saffron hadn’t moved out, I couldn’t entertain it. He’d suggested the guest house, which was run by an old family friend, who turned out to be a crazy thespian called Molly, who’d apparently just enjoyed a successful first week in Mamma Mia!

‘Dan’s friend?’ she asked, screwing up her face to look at me in the doorway when I arrived.

I nodded.

‘Fabulous, dahling!’ she shrieked, opening the door wide. ‘You’re just in time for cocktails,’ she announced as I followed her into the old Victorian-style house. It was huge, with leaded windows, big oak doors and a sitting room that reminded me of my grandma’s parlour. There was a massive bar in the corner, where Molly now stood with a cocktail shaker. And three ‘Sex on Bondis’ later, she was lying across her chaise longue describing every aspect of her life and performances in detail. From make-up to ‘amazing’ scripts to the applause of the crowd, I felt like I’d been there. Eventually I managed to butt into her conversation and ask if I could take a shower: ‘It’s been a long journey,’ I said.

I headed upstairs to my room and the en suite, where I stood under the hot water, the beat and lyrics of ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair’ thrumming through the water into my brain for some reason. Was I being stupid? Was I merely putting myself in the same life I’d had at home, where I’d settled into a routine with Emma and Rosie and they’d upped and left?

I stepped out of the shower, covering my hair with a towel and wrapping myself in a towelling bathrobe. I lay on the bed waiting for the sound of a baby crying – was she hungry, did she need me? No, of course she didn’t, Clover was with her real mother now and I had to get used to that. I also had to decide where I stood with Dan. Yes, I loved him, but I needed more to make a life. I had to make my own plans and think more clearly about my own future, the one that didn’t rely on anyone else, and where no one else relied on me. I wanted to teach English, and I could do that here in Sydney, or back in the UK.

I dressed and went back downstairs, where the Wi-Fi was better. I wanted to google some stuff and talk to Emma and see what she thought, but when I logged on to Skype, Rosie appeared on the screen.

‘Hello darling,’ I said, my eyes instantly filling with tears. I missed her so much and was homesick to the point of just getting on a plane there and then.

‘Nana, I have been worried about you!’ was her opening line, her arms were crossed, and she was wearing her Cinderella dress. ‘I’ve been trying to conc… conctact you,’ she said, not quite getting the word.

I smiled. ‘I’ve been away for a few days, sweetie, with Dan.’

‘Did you play video games with Dam?’ She did a theatrical gasp.

‘Er, no…’

‘Good, because he only plays with me, Nana… You can’t play too. Can I conctact him?’

‘He’s busy right now, darling, but we could Skype you…’

‘When?’

Who knew when I was seeing him again? Having spent the most idyllic week together, he’d gone back to his life and he’d be busy with the café and I’d just be waiting. And waiting was something I didn’t want to do anymore.

‘Dan and I went to the beach…’ I started. ‘We took Clover, you know… the baby?’

‘Without me?’ she said, and her little chin began to wobble.

‘Yes, but…’

‘Nana, when are you coming back? I miss you!’

Now my chin began to wobble and I thought, I just can’t do this anymore – and my heart broke silently in my chest.

My heart was telling me to stay in Sydney. I loved Dan, I always would, and in an ideal world, I’d stay here with him and Clover forever. But Clover belonged to somebody else, she didn’t need me, whereas here was my own flesh and blood telling me she missed me.

I felt like I was in two places, stretched across oceans and flipping so easily from one to the other. How could I possibly choose?

‘Oh darling, Nana doesn’t know what to do,’ I said into the screen at Cinderella, who was now painting her nails. ‘Thing is, darling, I’m missing you, but I like Dan too and I miss him when I’m not here. I don’t want you upset though, because that would be awful. Do you wish I was there with you, Rosie?’ I asked, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t bear this, my granddaughter was suffering; she missed me terribly, she needed me and I could take anything, but not this. I waited for her to finish painting her thumbnail, and eventually she looked up, like she’d forgotten I was there.

‘Nana…’ she started, and I moved closer to the screen, holding my breath: was she distraught? Did she want me to jump on the next plane? ‘It’s bruddy green!’ she said, holding out her bright-green-covered nails.

I laughed at my stupidity. Of course she missed me, but it was passing, temporary. Rosie was so young, she had her mum and Richard and her step-siblings, new friends at school and probably a different boyfriend than the last time we’d spoken. Rosie was fine… it was Faye I needed to think about.

I eventually said goodbye to Rosie, having gone through her portfolio of nail varnishes and planned her next ‘look’ for a party the following day. I spoke briefly to Emma, but it was late there, and she was trying to get Rosie to bed and I wasn’t exactly helping, so I gave her a very brief rundown of the trip and said I’d call the following day.

I was just closing my laptop and wondering what to do for the rest of the evening when Molly appeared. ‘Ooh, dahling, meant to tell you, someone’s been here looking for you,’ she said.

‘Dan?’ I asked, hopefully. Perhaps he’d wangled another night away from the café and was going to sweep me into his arms again?

‘No… A woman, a looker too – God, what I’d give for a figure like that!’

‘Did she give a name, what did she want?’ I asked, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. What I really wanted to ask was if she was carrying anything that looked like a weapon or a boiled bunny.

‘Didn’t say… Have you seen the review of my performance in Time Out Sydney?’ she asked, throwing the magazine gently onto my lap like we’d known each other forever. I didn’t want to seem rude so I made a cursory glance. The review swam before me and I tried to look impressed, but wanted to get back to the matter in hand.

I looked up, making like I’d dragged myself from the riveting review: ‘Did she ask for me by name?’

‘Who?’

‘The woman who came here… Did she ask for me by name?’

‘Yes, how else would she ask for you?’ she laughed, like I was mad. ‘She asked if Faye Dobson was staying here and that she had to talk to you and said she’d be back.’

‘She said she’ll be back?’ I echoed, thinking of Arnie’s catchphrase from The Terminator.

This was all I needed. I was exhausted from the trip, bereft without Dan and Clover, and now I had to face Saffron, ‘the looker’. She was probably going to warn me off, tell me to keep away from her baby, stop playing happy families. I felt sick at the thought of this encounter. I couldn’t blame her, especially as Dan, much to my annoyance, had put pictures of the three of us on our trip all over his Instagram. I’d told him it was rubbing her face in it, but he said she was ‘cool’ about me. He always said she was ‘cool’, but I wasn’t convinced.

‘She said I mustn’t let you leave before she grabbed you,’ Molly was saying as she mixed herself another Sex on Bondi.

‘Grabbed?’ I asked, my mind suddenly filled with visions of Arnold Schwarzenegger crossed with Glenn Close. What the hell did this woman want from me?

‘Yes. Dahling, I’m not being rude, but do you have to keep repeating everything, it’s quite off-putting?’

I ignored her comment. ‘I think it might be Dan’s girlfriend,’ I started, ‘I’m worried she might think I’m trying to take Dan off her.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes… no… I don’t know. I don’t know what she wants.’

‘Oh shit! I should have frisked her.’ She stood up quickly, a little shaky on her feet from her latest Sex on Bondi, and came strutting towards me in an over-exaggerated stage walk. She stood over me, bent down into my face and said, ‘Be careful, my dahling. She said she’ll call back this evening, she could be packing heat.’

‘Oh God, I bloody hope not!’ I said, looking at my watch: it was 6 p.m. Dan would be busy at work now. I doubted he had any idea that his baby mama was rampaging the streets looking for me. I was feeling a little creeped out, and Molly wasn’t exactly helping. ‘We were together… before. He met Clover’s mum after me…’ I tried to explain.

She raised her eyebrows, then swept across the room holding her head. ‘Faye, my innocent little angel,’ she was waving her arms about now, ‘this could turn into a crime of passion.’

‘No, it couldn’t… Could it?’

‘Oh, my love, the cyclic nature of love and violence. Think of Othello: “Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light…”’ She was now wringing her hands rather alarmingly.

‘Thank you, Dame Judi, but no one will be putting anyone’s lights out tonight,’ I snapped, pulling myself together.

She was about to embark on an overlong, overdramatised story, with actions and dialogue, when the doorbell rang, making us both jump.

‘Is that the wronged woman?’ she hissed, stepping behind the curtain. In her drunkenness, she almost fell and I’d have laughed if I hadn’t felt like this might be the last few seconds of my life.

‘Could you answer it, Molly?’ I asked.

‘You answer it.’

‘No, it’s your house.’

‘It’s your love triangle,’ she said, trying to stand without wobbling, pursing blood-red lips and attempting to place her hand on her hip.

‘Oh for God’s sake, it isn’t a triangle,’ I hissed. ‘Dan and I are together, it’s all fine, she’s… cool.’

One look at Molly cowering behind the curtains and it was clear she only wanted fake drama and was keen to avoid the real thing, so there was nothing else for it but to deal with this myself.

I stomped into the hall and saw the shadowy figure of the person who’d changed my life standing at the door.

‘Saffron?’ I asked as I opened the door to her.

‘Faye.’

I nodded unnecessarily and resisted the urge to slam the door in her face just in case Molly was right. I’d been travelling all day, I’d had ‘Sex on Bondi’ three times and was feeling the worse for wear and I wasn’t in any state for some confrontation over Dan.

‘Would you like to come in?’ I asked, and unsmiling, she stepped into the hall.

‘Are you going to frisk her?’ Molly hissed in a stage whisper. She was now at my side, clutching me like both our lives were in great danger.

‘No, Molly, that won’t be necessary,’ I said. ‘I’ll take my… friend through to the kitchen, if that’s okay?’

Molly gave Saffron a wary look as we walked to the kitchen, where I immediately shut the door before she joined us.

‘Tea?’ I asked, and Saffron shook her head.

I pulled out a chair, she did the same, and for a long time we both faced each other in silence across the kitchen table. I wondered if this might be the prelude to a weird arm wrestle. Instead of keeping this to myself, my nerves got the better of me and I shared this observation with her: ‘Is it me, or does this feel like we’re about to have some sort of arm wrestle?’ I said, trying to lift the mood and take away the obvious tension in the room, but my sudden movement made her flinch and she frowned at me like I was attempting to scare her. We weren’t off to a great start.

You might think I would have learned by now that the more I talk, the worse it gets, but I hadn’t – and having given her the wrong impression (that I was ready to brawl), I was more nervous. So I just kept on talking.

‘When I say that, I don’t mean I want a fight. God no, that’s not how I roll… Oh, I don’t roll around or anything… in a fight, I’m just. Saying…’ I added, as she continued to look at me like I was unhinged. By now I think I was – I’d been wound up into a tightly coiled spring by Mad Molly.

We sat opposite each other across the pine table in the cottagey kitchen with the big old dresser, which I suddenly realised she could probably bring down on me in one swift move. I put my palms face down on the table, which seemed to make her flinch slightly – I didn’t know who was more scared of whom.