My mother-in-law turned up on my porch with three suitcases and called the police when I wouldn't let her in. Then the officer asked my husband one straightforward question about who owned the house — and the silence that followed was the ugliest thing I have ever stood through.

"You've worked all of it out already, Ardan."

He said we would talk about it properly when he got in.

I told him to ring his mother before she turned up.

And there was a pause on that line that went on a very long time.

"Ardan. Is she already on her way?"

He hung up.

At eleven minutes past five a silver SUV came up the drive. Norma got out first. Then Halla.

Which told me it had been arranged well before four seventeen.

They started unloading. Three cases, two storage boxes, a garment bag, a washbag, a carrier of prescription boxes, and a peace lily.

The bell went. I opened my own front door.

Norma smiled at me.

"Which room has he done out for me?"

"He hasn't done a room."

The smile went off her face like a light.

Halla said, "Oh, Rowan, don't."

I looked past them at the pile on my path.