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one’s saying you can’t,’ her mother replied evenly. ‘I just thought it would be nice for you to have your own room for entertaining – and, well, it’s a place you can call your own.’

      Vivi said, ‘So what are you going to do for a sitting room?’

      Gina’s eyes stayed on her, but her cheeks were flushed with colour, showing how upset and sorry she was that she’d apparently got it wrong. ‘We have the one we’ve always used,’ she reminded her.

      Vivi decided not to protest any further because Gil, Mark and Michelle were clearly feeling embarrassed and sorry for Gina, and who could blame them?

      ‘I expect the kettle’s boiled by now,’ Michelle said cheerfully. ‘Let’s go and have some tea.’

      Vivi stayed where she was, looking around the large, rectangular room with its cream and yellow flowered wallpaper and NanaBella’s mustard-colour three-piece suite. The sofa converted to a bed and had always been used when the house was full at Christmas or for birthdays – and now for when a dying daughter might have a visitor? It was so depressingly outdated, and so different from her wonderful flat in Chelsea that she wanted to sob. Aware that she might damage herself if she gave in to too much emotion, she put a hand to the implant in her shoulder, feeling its sharp edges through her skin, and let tears drop onto her cheeks. Her conscience was flooding her with beautiful, happy memories of times spent in this room when sparkling Christmas trees had filled the niche next to the fireplace, and when she’d helped NanaBella to set the table for all kinds of special occasions.

      How could she be so ungrateful and mean about the room NanaBella had been so proud of? The room she’d apparently once helped her grandpa to wallpaper when she was three (no doubt causing havoc); where she used to practise her ballet for her mother and NanaBella, and where she’d watched NanaBella weep tears of joy as she’d taken a day-old Mark from Gil to cradle him in her arms.

      Now her mother had turned this special place into hers, to try to make her life easier.

      ‘OK?’ Mark said softly, sliding an arm round her shoulder and putting a mug of tea into her hand.

      ‘I will be,’ she promised. She rested her head against him, inhaling the earthy, tangy smell that was so familiar and comforting it made her want to weep again. ‘Have I upset her?’ she asked, briefly closing her eyes.

      ‘She’ll get over it.’

      Her gaze went to a sideboard where photographs of them both at various stages of their lives were displayed in silver and leather frames. There were several of their grandparents too, at their wedding, her christening, Mark’s first birthday party, but there was only one of their mother, with Vivi and Mark at Vivi’s graduation.

      There used to be one of Gina and Gil on their wedding day, but it had been taken down soon after they’d broken up and Gina had returned to live with her mother.

      ‘I don’t know why I feel so angry with her,’ she said. ‘It’s like I’m blaming her for what’s happening when it obviously isn’t her fault.’

      ‘I heard Dad telling her that it was natural to lash out at people you love when you’re feeling afraid. She probably knew that already, but I think it helped her to hear it.’

      Vivi felt sure it had.

      Michelle appeared and drew her into a careful embrace.

      ‘I won’t break,’ Vivi promised, relaxing into the feel of her, and wishing it could be just the two of them, though not wanting Mark to leave. Or Gil. Or her mother.

      ‘You look tired,’ Michelle told her.

      Vivi’s weary eyes managed a spark. ‘If you’re about to tell me to lie down then don’t,’ she warned, meaning it to sound like a mock rebuke, but it didn’t quite come out that way.

      ‘I wasn’t,’ Michelle assured her, apparently unfazed. ‘It was just a comment. I’ll trust you to know when you need to eat or sleep or pee or whatever you fancy. Mum’s just texted to ask if you’re feeling up to having dinner at her place tonight. All of you,’ she added, looking at Mark.

      Not wanting to admit that she wasn’t up to it, while feeling grateful for the way Michelle and her family were drawing her back into the fold, Vivi looked round as Gil called out, ‘Hey, son, can you give me a hand to bring this lot in?’

      Realizing it was some of her belongings from the flat, Vivi’s eyes went to Michelle’s, knowing, because her mother had told her, that her friend had helped to pack them sometime over the last few days. She felt so useless and wretched that she didn’t know what to say or do.

      ‘We’ve arranged for a man with a van to bring your furniture,’ Gil told her as he came along the hall with a heavy box. ‘Once it’s here we can get things looking a bit more like your kind of home.’

      Unable to stop herself, Vivi looked down at the carpet with its yellow and black diamond design and in spite, or maybe because of how awful it was, she found herself wanting to laugh.

      Gil followed her eyes, and Michelle said drily, ‘I think it qualifies as retro.’

      ‘Just what I was going to say,’ Gil agreed.

      Mark said, ‘Remember, NanaBella was always going on about changing it.’

      It was true, but the room was used so little they’d ended up forgetting about it, even after NanaBella had gone. Gina only used the other side of the house, which was much more up to date.

      ‘Do you want me to take this stuff upstairs?’ Mark asked. ‘Or would you rather have it down here?’

      Though Vivi had no idea what was in each of the holdalls or boxes, she remained determined that this wouldn’t be her full-time base, so she said, ‘Upstairs.’

      ‘Are you sure?’ her mother asked, coming out of the kitchen.

      ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Vivi told her shortly.

      Apparently not wanting to fight, but still keen to get her way, Gina said to Mark, ‘Anything that needs to come down again can always be sorted out later.’

      Vivi turned away, and Michelle put a steadying hand on her arm.

      ‘If we’re going to Yvonne’s for dinner,’ Gina said, ‘then I think you should have a lie-down first.’

      Vivi was tense to breaking. ‘Do you?’ she muttered.

      She didn’t have to see her mother’s expression turn to one of awkwardness and regret as she picked up on her unrealized error, because she could feel it. It took a lot of effort for Vivi to raise her head and say, ‘I’m sorry, you’re right,’ because of course her mother was, and she really didn’t want to hurt her.

      ‘I’ll go on ahead to give Mum a hand,’ Michelle said, breaking the tension. ‘The kids are dying to see you, Vivi, but if you’d rather wait till tomorrow, Sam can always stay at home with them tonight.’

      In spite of knowing she’d prefer to wait, Vivi said, ‘I’ll be fine by the time we get there, so I’d love to see them.’ Life had to go on. She needed to find the strength to be normal.

      After Michelle had gone Mark took himself off upstairs, and Gil remarked to no one in particular, ‘Well, I guess I probably ought to be making a move.’

      Vivi waited for her mother to protest, but Gina said, ‘Thanks very much for driving us today. We couldn’t have managed without you.’

      Pulling Vivi into his arms, he spoke tenderly. ‘Take care of yourself, sweetheart. You know where I am if you need me.’

      ‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, close to tears again. She desperately wanted him to stay, to carry on understanding her and her mother the way he always seemed to, but they weren’t his responsibility any more. Her mother had seen to that.

      As Gina walked outside with him Vivi watched from the window,

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