‘Cliff Harris,’ she says, voice quiet and deadly. ‘I. Deserve. Better.’

And, with what I can only conclude is the superhuman strength of a woman who has put up with a lot of shit for a very long time, she snaps the TV remote in two.

Cliff comes towards her then, but Arnold and I are moving, and we’re quicker than he is, and we’ve got him by the arms before he can reach Betsy.

‘I want you out of that house by the end of the week, do you hear me?’ Betsy calls across the field.

Cliff roars obscenities, awful things, so bad it makes me gasp. Arnold hauls him backwards, and gestures Basil over to help.

‘We’ve got this,’ Arnold says to me. I give him a nod. I’m needed elsewhere.

Betsy crumples into my arms as soon as I reach her. ‘Come on,’ I say, leading her away. I shoot a glare at the crowd around the entrance to the field and the bystanders scatter embarrassedly, letting us through. ‘You were brilliant,’ I tell Betsy.

She tries to turn around. ‘Oh, I … I …’

I grip her arm. ‘Now all we need to do is find you somewhere to stay. OK?’ I chew the inside of my cheek. Clearwater Cottage is too close. She needs to get away for a week, until we’ve managed to clear Cliff out.

Penelope and Nicola are waiting by the car. Their eyes widen as Betsy and I stumble over, arm in arm. I help Betsy into the passenger seat, and by the time she’s all strapped in, an idea has formed.

‘Nicola,’ I say quietly, once I’ve closed the car door. ‘Betsy’s given her husband a week to find somewhere else to live.’

Nicola’s face softens. She glances at Betsy, mute in the front seat. She still has two pieces of remote control in her hands; she’s clutching them tightly.

‘Aye, she has, has she?’

‘Do you think …’

‘She can stay with me as long as she needs,’ Nicola says.

‘Are you sure? I know it’s a lot for me to ask.’

‘If a woman needs a place to stay, and I’ve got a bed to offer, then, well. That’s that.’

Nicola is already opening the rear passenger door. I move to help her in, on autopilot.

‘Let’s get you back to my house, eh, love,’ she says to Betsy as she settles. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, we can have a nice hot cuppa, then I’ll do us fish pie for tea.’

It takes all my effort not to cry as I take the keys from a very worried-looking Penelope and sit myself down in the driver’s seat. These people. There’s such a fierceness to them, such a lovingness. When I got here, I thought their lives were small and silly, but I was wrong. They’re some of the biggest people I know.

28

Eileen

The communal space is a whirlwind of activity. Fitz ducks just as Martha tosses Aurora a stack of napkins. Rupert catches the end of the tablecloth Letitia is spreading just in time to lay it flat. Yaz signs for the food delivery one-handed, Vanessa in the crook of her other arm. It’s Yaz and Martha’s first time back in the throng, after a few weeks of quality time as a family, and I must say they’ve hit the ground running. Not that I’d expect anything less.

We had hoped to give the Silver Shoreditchers a hot meal, but it got ever so complicated with allergies and the like, so for now it’ll just be buffet snacks. Luckily I got to the supermarket order before Fitz pressed the ‘Buy’ button, because almost everything on there would have been quite the challenge for anyone with missing teeth or new dentures. Now there are much smaller piles of carrot sticks and crisps, and much larger piles of soft sausage rolls and quiche squares.

I fish out my mobile phone. Tod should be here any moment with the tour bus for picking up our Silver Shoreditchers; I’m expecting him to call when he’s outside. And Howard said he’d get here right for the start time, too, so he’s not far away either. I pat my hair nervously – Martha has pinned it all up, and it looks very smart, but I worry it’s a bit much.

I have two messages. The first is from Bee:

I’m stuck here with a client and I’m going to have to miss the launch event. I’m so SO sorry. I feel terrible.

Will you come and see me before you go tomorrow morning if you can? I’ll be at Selmount, and I’ve not got any meetings. The Selmount office is on your way, right, if you’re heading to King’s Cross?

I type my reply.

Hello, Bee. Don’t you worry. How’s 9 o’clock tomorrow morning? Perhaps if you have time, we could have one last coffee and muffin together. Not a problem if you can’t, of course. Love, Eileen xx

Her reply is almost instant.

Perfect. Sorry again Eileen xxx

The other message is from Howard.

OldCountryBoy says: I’m glad you’re happy with £300 to get us started. I promise you, we’ll have double that in donations within a week! xxx

EileenCotton79 says: I’ll give you the cheque when I see you. I can’t wait to see our website soon

Up pops the dot-dot-dot that means he’s typing something.

OldCountryBoy says: I’m ever so sorry, Eileen, but I don’t think I can make it to the launch party. I’ve got lots of work to be getting on with for the website! Could you transfer the money online?

My heart sinks. I thought … I’d really … Well. Never mind. This event wasn’t about Howard and it’s not the end of the world if he can’t come.

EileenCotton79 says: I’m not all set up for banking on the computer I’m afraid. I can post you the cheque, though. Just send me the address. All my best, Eileen xx

‘Eileen?’ comes a familiar voice.

I look up, and there’s Tod – wonderful, handsome Tod. My heart lifts again. I suppose this is why it’s handy to have several men on the go at once.

‘You’re here!’ I stand on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

He looks very dashing in an open-necked shirt and chino trousers. He surveys the hive of activity, looking rather dazed by it all.

‘You did all this?’ he asks.

‘Yes! Well, we all did, really,’ I say, beaming.

‘Oh, hi, is this Tod?’ says Fitz, popping up beside us. He stretches his hand out for Tod to shake. ‘Pleasure to meet you. I fully intend to be you when I grow up.’

‘An actor?’ Tod asks.

‘A proficient lover even in my seventies,’ Fitz corrects him. ‘Ah, no, that’s not a vase, it’s for walking sticks!’

That part was to Letitia. I make an apologetic face at Tod, who is looking very amused, thank goodness.

‘Sorry about the chaos,’ I say, at the same time Tod says, ‘I have some bad news.’

‘What bad news?’

‘The tour bus. It’s needed by the theatre company, I’m afraid.’

I clutch my chest. ‘What You’ve not brought it? We’ve not got transportation?’

Tod looks worried. ‘Oh, dear, was it very important?’

‘Of course it was important! We’ve promised to pick people up!’ I wave my mobile phone at him.

‘Can’t we just order them cabs?’ he asks, nonplussed.