‘Let’s go upstairs.’

‘We can’t.’

‘How long is this cloak-and-dagger stuff going to go on for? C’mon Clodagh,’ he cajoled. ‘They’re only kids. They don’t understand.’

‘You brat,’ she giggled. ‘You’d better not make noise.’

‘In that case you’d better not be so fucking sexy.’

‘I’ll try,’ she grinned.

The sex was fantastic, as always. She managed to lose herself and her shame and her new-found penury with each stroke that Marcus banged into her. Until she felt his rhythm falter.

‘Go faster!’ she hissed.

But he went even slower, then stopped altogether.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Cloooodaaaagh.’ His voice was full of warning, his eyes were focused elsewhere and she was hurriedly excavating herself from under him. I forgot to lock the door.

It was both a shock and not a shock to see Craig framed in the doorway, staring at Marcus.

‘Daddy?’ he asked in tremulous confusion.

‘Mum, it’s Lisa.’

‘Hello, love,’ Pauline said warmly. ‘How lovely to hear you.’

‘You too.’ Lisa’s throat ached at the love she heard in her mum’s voice. ‘Hey, I was thinking of coming to see you and Dad next weekend. If it’s good for you,’ she added hastily.

‘Do you know?’ Pauline mused. ‘We couldn’t possibly think of anything we’d rather do. We’d absolutely love to see you.’

When Lisa had left Kathy’s house on Friday night she’d felt raw, naked and exposed, as though everything which made her who she was had been stripped away. And out of nowhere she’d wanted her mum.

It was an unexpected reaction, and so was what followed next – the first shock of realization passed and it no longer seemed so dreadful. You can take the girl out of the council house, hut you cant take the council house out of the girl, she half-laughed to herself. She wasn’t exactly happy about it, but she wasn’t exactly unhappy either.

In the immediate aftermath she’d been engulfed with the desire to run away. But that had left her and instead she wanted to return to the source.

‘I’m so looking forward to seeing you, Lisa. It’s cheered me right up.’ Such was Pauline’s delight and warmth that Lisa wondered how much she’d imagined her parents’ uncomfortable awe of her. Had it all been projected by herself?

The days stacked up for Ashling. The world remained a griefscape and when she woke up every morning, she felt as though she’d been drinking really heavily the night before. Even on the nights when she hadn’t. But after a couple of weeks she realized that the small things, like brushing her teeth and having a shower, no longer seemed ridiculously onerous.

‘That’ll be the anti-depressants taking hold,’ Monica said, in one of her many phone calls. ‘Those Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors are a godsend. Much better than those old-fashioned Tricyclic whatever-they’re-calleds.’

Ashling was surprised. She hadn’t expected the anti-depressants to work and she realized she’d had no faith in anything. After all, her mother hadn’t got well. At least not for a very long time.

As well as keeping herself clean, she managed to work, so long as it wasn’t anything too tricky. She’d always been embarrassed about her conscientiousness but now vaguely recognized that it had probably been her salvation.

‘The November horoscopes are in,’ Trix waved pages. ‘Gather round everyone and I’ll read them out.’

The entire office crashed to a halt. Any excuse. Even Jack hovered, aware he should be reading the riot act. He would, he decided, just as soon as they’d done Libra.

‘Read Scorpio,’ Ashling urged Trix.

‘But you’re Pisces.’

‘Go on. Scorpio. And then Capricorn.’

Clodagh was Scorpio and Marcus was Capricorn and Ashling wanted to know how they were going to fare in November. Jack Devine caught her eye and flashed her a tricky look – a mix of censoriousness and sorrow. He knew what she was up to. Haughtily she turned her head away. She could read whoever’s horoscopes she liked and there were far worse things she could be doing. After all, Joy had suggested putting a curse on Marcus and Clodagh.

According to their horoscopes, Clodagh’s and Marcus’s month was going to be up and down. Ashling could well believe it.

‘What are you, JD?’ Trix asked.

‘Mr Devine to you…

‘Libra,’ he sighed, when it became clear she was still waiting. ‘But I don’t believe in any of that star-sign stuff. Librans never do.’

Ashling found that sort of funny. She peeked out from under her hair and looked at Jack. He was already watching her. They exchanged a little smile, then quickly she found herself diving beneath her desk. She emerged with her handbag but, confused, she wasn’t sure she needed anything from it. Had she only got it in order to stop looking at Jack Devine? Then she realized it was nearly lunch-time anyway, and time for her appointment with Dr McDevitt.

The ten-minute walk to the surgery was like walking through sniper-fire. She was afraid of being out and seeing something that might cause her pain. Her eyes, as much as possible, were downcast and she didn’t see much of people above knee-level. This guaranteed a safe passage until a Bosnian refugee tried to sell her an out-of-date Big Issues. Immediately she was slapped by a wave of hopelessness.

And there was worse to come – from Dr McDevitt himself.

‘How’re you getting on with the Prozac?’ he asked.

‘Fine.’ With a wan smile she said, ‘Please sir, can I have some more?’

‘Side effects?’

‘Just some nausea and trembling.’

‘Loss of appetite?’

‘It was gone anyway.’

‘And you know you’re not supposed to mix this medication with alcohol?’

‘Um, yeah.’ Asking her not to drink was going too far.

‘How’s the counselling going?’

‘Er, I haven’t gone.’

‘But I gave you a number to call.’

‘I know, but I can’t ring them. I’m too depressed.’

‘Ah now!’ He sounded cross, picked up the phone, made a call, then made another. He put his hand over the mouthpiece and said, ‘What time do you finish work on a Tuesday?’