‘But Mum, Will fell in love with Felicity. It wasn’t just a drunken kiss at an office party. It’s love.’ She frowned at her fingernails and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘And maybe I’m falling in love with Connor.’

‘So what? People fall in and out of love all the time. I fell in love with Beryl’s son-in-law just the other week. It’s not some sign that your marriage was damaged.’ Lucy took a bite of her hot cross bun and spoke with her mouth full. ‘Of course, it’s very badly damaged now.’

Tess guffawed and lifted her palms. ‘So there you go. We’re stuffed.’

‘Not if you’re both prepared to let go of your egos.’

‘It’s not just about our egos,’ said Tess irritably. This was ridiculous. Her mother wasn’t making any sense. Beryl’s son-in-law, for heaven’s sake.

‘Oh, Tess, my darling, at your age everything is about your ego.’

‘So, what are you saying? I should forget my ego and beg Will to come back to me?’

Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Of course not. I’m just saying don’t burn your bridges by jumping straight into a relationship with Connor. You have to think about Liam. He –’

Tess was outraged. ‘I am thinking about Liam!’ She paused. ‘Did you think about me when you and Dad split up?’

Her mother gave her a small, humble smile. ‘Maybe not as much as we should have.’ She lifted her teacup and put it back down again. ‘Sometimes I look back, and think, goodness me, we took our feelings so seriously. Everything was black and white. We got into our positions and that was that. We wouldn’t budge. Whatever happens, don’t get all rigid, Tess. Be prepared to be a bit . . . bendy.’

‘Bendy,’ repeated Tess.

Her mother held up one hand and tilted her head. ‘Was that the doorbell?’

‘I didn’t hear it,’ said Tess.

‘If that’s my damned sister showing up here unannounced again, I’ll be so cross.’ Lucy straightened, and narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t offer her a cup of tea whatever you do!’

‘I think you imagined it,’ said Tess.

‘Mum! Grandma!’

The screen door at the back of the house flew open and Liam tumbled out, still wearing his pyjamas, his face alight. ‘Look who’s here!’

He held the screen door wide and made a big gameshow host gesture. ‘Ta-daaa!’

A beautiful blonde woman stepped through the open door. There was a split second where Tess genuinely didn’t recognise her and simply admired the stylish effect she created in the autumn leaves. She was wearing one of those chunky white knit cardigans with brown wooden buttons, a brown leather belt, skinny blue jeans and boots.

‘It’s Felicity!’ crowed Liam.

Chapter forty-five

‘Just sit with your mum and relax,’ said Lauren to Rob. ‘I’ll bring out some hot cross buns and coffee. Jacob, you come with me, mister.’

Rachel let herself sink into a cushiony couch next to a wood stove. It was comfortable. The couch had the exact right level of softness, which was to be expected. Thanks to Lauren’s impeccable taste, everything in their beautifully restored two-bedroom Federation cottage was exactly right.

The café that Lauren had originally suggested had been closed, much to her chagrin. ‘I called and double-checked what time they were opening just yesterday,’ she’d said when they saw the ‘closed’ sign across the door. Rachel had watched with interest as she almost lost her cool, but she’d managed to recover herself and suggest that they go back to their place. It was closer than Rachel’s place, and Rachel hadn’t been able to think of a reason to refuse without seeming churlish.

Rob sat down in a red and white striped armchair opposite her and yawned. Rachel caught the yawn and immediately sat up straighter. She did not want to nod off in Lauren’s house like an old lady.

She looked at her watch. It was only just after eight am. There were still hours and hours to endure before the day was done. At this time twenty-eight years ago, Janie had been eating her very last breakfast. Half a Weetbix probably. She’d never liked breakfast.

Rachel ran her palm over the fabric of the couch. ‘What will you do with all your lovely furniture when you move to New York?’ she said to Rob, chattily, coolly. She could talk about the upcoming move to New York on the anniversary of Janie’s death. Oh yes she could.

Rob took a few moments to answer. He stared at his knees. She was about to say ‘Rob?’ when he finally spoke. ‘We might rent this place out furnished,’ he said, as if speaking was an effort. ‘We’re still thinking about all those logistics.’

‘Yes, a lot to think about, I imagine,’ said Rachel snappily. Yes, Rob, quite a lot of logistics involved in taking my grandson to New York. She dug her fingernails into the cloth of the couch, as if it were a soft, fat animal she was abusing.

‘Do you dream about Janie, Mum?’ asked Rob.

Rachel looked up. She released the flesh of the couch. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Do you?’

‘Sort of,’ said Rob. ‘I have nightmares that I’m being strangled. I guess I’m dreaming that I’m Janie. It’s always the same. I wake up choking for air. The dreams are always worse round this time of year. Autumn. Lauren thought maybe going to the park with you . . . might . . . be good. To face up to it. I don’t know. I didn’t really like being there. That’s the wrong way to put it. Obviously you don’t like being there either. But I just found that really hard. Thinking of what she went through. How scared she must have been. Jesus.’ He looked up at the ceiling and his face buckled. Rachel remembered how Ed would fiercely resist tears in exactly the same way.