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The sight of capable, loving Geeta – sinking defeated and fractured at the thought of her daughter falling apart – nothing tore down Nicola's irritability quicker. Her mood relented and the tension evaporated.

“I didn't know that,” Nicola said quietly. “Olivia is so proficient.”

Geeta lifted her heavy gaze. “She is, and a perfectionist to the core. But fragile too. Do you know...” And Geeta's expression softened, her brown eyes turning fond. “...that I envy Charlotte sometimes. She falls flat on her face, messes things up, then turns around with a smile to try all over again. I’m not saying she doesn’t get hurt. But she gets up, over and over. Olivia finds that hard, and I worry for her.”

Nicola wished she could find that a relief. But it was the core issue with her daughter.

“Talk to me,” Geeta whispered.

Nicola breathed in, ready for her own admission, but caved with, “I don’t want you to see me like this. You won’t like what I worry about.”

“Try me?”

“I’m not my best here.” Nicola's jaw clamped shut, rebelling against Geeta seeing the darkness, and not wanting to admit any of it.

Kind eyes gazed at her, as if nothing she’d say would make Geeta leave.

“I hate you seeing this.”

“I’ve seen everyone I love at their worst,” Geeta whispered. “And I’m still here for all of them.”

Hold her breath. Hold her breath. Hold her breath. Because if she didn’t, she’d sob. Geeta held her in the same space as people she loved and wanted to be there for her.

Nicola inhaled. “I’m terrified she’s like Daniel.”

There, she said it.

Geeta opened her mouth a fraction. Surprise, yes. But not shock or revulsion.

“I’m terrified she’ll never stop messing up. And while she might bounce back now, it gets a lot trickier when you have children.”

Geeta stayed quiet, letting her speak. But Nicola knew Geeta assumed her Oxford graduate daughter succeeded.

“I thought she was getting her life together,” Nicola conceded. “Bentley, buying a house, gaining respect among clients. She was always extremely clever, if only she directed it. But now...” The intense, chaotic love for Millie. The utter lack of focus. “She’s reverting to Daniel and all I see is disaster looming.”

She’d prayed Charlotte wouldn’t turn into him. For years she’d seen the signs, but clung to hope. Quieter than Daniel, to the point of anxiety, at least Charlotte didn’t unleash every harebrained idea on the world. More careful and timid than him, she'd hoped her daughter would stay on track, but now it was like Charlotte popped off the lid and everything burst out.

Geeta frowned at her, clearly not comprehending what Nicola saw behind the scenes.

“He fucked up,” Nicola said. It was crude, but the heart of it. “He fucked up a lot. Yes, he was brilliant. Yes, he was clever. He won a more prestigious pupillage than I did. But he was reckless and lost it.” She shrugged, almost in despair. “Being brilliant, he turned his hand to legal journalism. And he astonished again. But he lost a staff job at the main publication. And god, the drinking culture back then didn’t help, especially him.” She shook her head. “It was so embedded everywhere.”

The elite drinking clubs at college, invitation only, and Daniel a proud member. The crowd that said kudos was ten pints then vomiting. Then the old boys’ network in London gentlemen’s clubs. And later again in journalism, where everything revolved around the pub. It sucked him in every time.

“It seemed inescapable.”

She hated it and banned alcohol from the house. The arguments erupted in an inferno. Him storming out to the pub. Her threatening to call the police if he took the car. Then accusations from friends to lighten up and let him have fun. The harsh whispers as they spat at each other like cats, hoping the children wouldn’t hear. Then he turned round one day, with defiance in his eyes, and gave up drink, just like that. As if to prove it wasn’t an issue. As if he excelled at even that. Why the hell didn't he do anything in moderation?

Friends told her she was lucky. Look how fantastic he was with the kids. But she spent so much energy holding everything together, for Daniel to turn up at the last second and dazzle everyone. She hated him for it. Especially when he told her to relax.

She swallowed and noticed a tapping sound: her own nails on the kitchen table. She balled her hand into a fist.

“Everything he tried ended in fire. And when the children were tiny, we lost our house.”

A lifetime ago. And everything could have been so different.

“I was stretched as a junior barrister, returning to work after Charlotte was born. I wanted to take a career break.” She breathed in. “It made no sense. I was flat out with small cases and running from one to the next. And my wage disappeared on childcare, while I never got to see the girls. I wanted to take a couple of years off, to look after them until they were school age.”

Because she couldn’t bear to leave Charlotte. Bryony took to nursery with almost business-like ease, skipping off at the entrance to play with other kids, whereas Charlotte clung to her as if her life were threatened. And it tore at Nicola's heart, having to pry the tiny fingers from her clothes and hand Charlotte to someone else.

“But when he lost the staff job, we couldn’t cover our mortgage and freelancing was too unsteady. So, I went back to work. And swapping roles would be fair and square, except as a woman you had to be ten times better, work ten times harder, and still face opposition every single step of the way. That you find yourself in the lower paid specialities such as family law, then organise the household too when you get home.”

Rushing back from a long day in courts all over the city. Grabbing the shopping on the way back. The girls already asleep if Daniel got them to bed. Or wild if he didn’t.

“And I was stretched thin.” She gasped at the thought of it. “Focused on work, catching the balls that Daniel dropped, until there was no time for anything else, and nothing left of me – just this person who did work and chores.

“My earnings bought a flat and a comfortable living for my family, then a larger house. But there was no love there. Towards me anyway. And by the time I’d built my reputation and attracted higher fees, Charlotte was eighteen and she was gone.”

God, the white fury she hurled at Daniel after they dropped Charlotte at university. Too late. She’d screamed at him. Even though he’d landed on his feet, a charismatic and respected journalist, blazing with brilliance in writing, and in demand from legal publications to the Financial Times . But it was all too late.

They barely tolerated each other after the girls left home. They shared a house and useful contacts for each, but not a bedroom. And staying together for the kids became a tired, tired reason.

Daniel won the love of Charlotte, a career and admiration. He waved his girls off to the world, shaking his head at where the time had gone. While Nicola stood stunned and exhausted, as if she’d lived forty years in the past twenty.

“I lost my daughter. I lost my husband. I lost whoever I was.”

Geeta shifted a little. “Weren't his family well off? Did they help when you lost the house?”

“Oh yes, they could have.” The bitterness cloyed like tar in her voice. “But tired of bailing out Daniel, his father decided to teach him a lesson. Said he should stand on his own two feet. But Daniel didn’t. He trod on mine. And it was me who paid for that lesson.”

She hated how much she despised Daniel and his family. She didn’t want Geeta to see this dark heart of her. Nicola turned quieter, her own bitterness a debilitating cloud over her.

“So when I see Daniel in her more lately,” she whispered, "I see unhappiness ahead. He was chaos. Life with him was exhausting. Constantly picking up the slack and putting out fires. Will Millie be able to do that for Charlotte? Without resenting her?”

She turned to look at Geeta, realising her eyes burned with angry tears.

“Everyone told me that I nagged him. And you wouldn’t be the first to suggest he spent too long in bars to escape me,” she snapped, anticipating that old quip from his private-school buddies.

“I'd never say anything like that, Nicola.” Geeta said, both hurt and gentle.

“Sorry. A lot’s been thrown at me over the years. A cow. A cold-hearted bitch. And some was deserved. But...”

“I imagine much wasn’t,” Geeta whispered.

“Marriage was a minefield. I was stretched, as main breadwinner with Daniel’s income inconsistent, looking after the bills, the house.” She breathed in. “It made me mean and irritable. And the rare family time I had was fraught and... I lost them.”

So much hard work and effort, only to be despised. She recovered with Bryony, who perhaps appreciated what she did. It hadn’t escaped her attention that Bryony chose a man the polar opposite of her father.

“Then when his mother died, she left him a house. And he washed his hands of me.”

The final humiliation – Daniel ending their arrangement and throwing down a generous division of funds with venom. ‘I am done, Nicki,’ he’d growled. ‘Here’s everything I owe you.’ And they split, able to afford a house each.

She’d been bitter, but also relieved they’d finally ended it. Even grateful in some ways that he'd made the break. She'd had enough of being the parent who made the tough, unpopular decisions. Then Daniel insisted they tell everyone they’d grown apart. No blame to assign. And he skipped off into the sunset.

Her clenched fist ached, and she let her fingers ease and come to rest on the table. Over now. All too late.

“There,” she whispered. “That’s the story of Nicola Albright KC. My failure. That’s the truth of it.”

She stared at Geeta, challenging her to refute it.

Geeta pulled her seat in front and reached for her hand. She leant closer and humid warmth misted Nicola's brow. Then the gentlest kiss caressed her forehead, with patient, indulgent lips to reassure her.

“Not the whole story,” Geeta whispered.

And Nicola closed her eyes, hot with tears. She grasped Geeta’s hand tight.

“I know I should have stopped and taken a break.” Her breath shuddered. “To find out why everything was that way. Why Daniel messed up. Who on earth Charlotte was. But when you’re flat-out extinguishing fires, you can’t see what started it for the flames.”

She squeezed Geeta tighter.

“I imagine it was exhausting and very hard,” came murmured against her cheek.

She kept holding on.

First time anyone had even hinted at understanding.

“And Daniel...I adored him initially. My god he was fantastic with our girls. But he was always starting new fires.”

Nicola opened her eyes, fearing Geeta looked at her like she did at the picnic years ago. But, no, sympathy reigned in her generous face.

“Charlotte hates me,” Nicola croaked, the admission painful and cracking her voice.

“I don't think she does,” Geeta started. “And I'm not just saying that.” Fingers stroked through Nicola’s hair. “I see you both reaching out, but it's like neither of you know how, or fear getting hurt.”

“I don’t understand her.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Geeta smiled. “Do you think you're easy to understand?”

That made her ease a little and she relented without bickering. “No, I suppose not.”

“You know,” Geeta said, “you could talk to Charlotte about this. Treat her as the grownup she is. Really talk to her.”

“You mean like you really talk to Olivia?”

“No.” Geeta pointed. “Stop it.” Geeta told her off, although made it light. “This isn’t a battle. You don’t have to win this. We’re not in court. And you were doing so well.”

“But?” Nicola prompted, with the same quiet care Geeta had used to draw her out.

Geeta’s gaze became unfocused.

“Have you looked at that article I gave you?” Nicola asked. “The one she wrote?”

“I...I didn’t.”

“You’re avoiding her,” Nicola whispered.

Geeta pursed her lips, her beautiful brown eyes swimming with anguish. “Do you know how guilty I feel about leaving Sumit?” Her eyebrows despaired. “When he hates change, the same as Olivia, and I took everything that was his comfort away. I’ve been avoiding facing that.”

Geeta drifted unfocused.

“I’ve spent time with Olivia, but only in passing. I haven’t seen her for who she is or allowed her to truly see me. And now I feel guiltier than ever, because she has a family and a daughter calling me Nani. And they are wonderful.”

Amazement and despair fought in Geeta's expression.

“It seems incredible. She and Kate committed to each other only a year ago. But that year is a fifth of Bea’s lifetime, and Olivia is huge in her life already.”

And Geeta’s whole body deflated.

“Olivia idolises you,” Nicola said.

“No, she doesn’t. You’re the one she idolises.”

Nicola shook her head. “She admires my work. That’s very different to how she regards you.”

“She finds me annoying.”

“She finds everyone annoying.” Nicola laughed quietly. “Because everyone is sometimes.”

A smile, a very small one, flickered on Geeta’s lips. Then with a sigh, she got up and sat on Nicola's knee. Arms slid around Nicola's neck and she didn’t fight the quiet moan of relief. This comfort, so rare in her life, was sublime. She hugged Geeta tight. What an incredible solace to have someone to talk to about this.

“I think,” Geeta whispered beside her ear, “we’re both overdue a serious conversation with our daughters.”

Did she mean about them too?

“You and Charlotte are in very different places now,” Geeta said. “I didn’t think Charlotte wanted children. And I know her reasonably well. But she and Millie will be a larger family soon. And you?!” Geeta leant back and shook her head with disbelief, but affection too. “Where did you come from?”

Generous and intelligent eyes considered her, as if still figuring her out, but liking more what she saw. Nicola hoped that. She really hoped that.

A chill took hold inside. Too early to talk about Geeta specifically, and this fledgling something. But it was time to admit to Charlotte the change in her, which had rolled out over years.

“You need to talk to her,” Geeta said. “Before we go any further. Or if you’re with someone else later. There’s a conversation you need to have with Charlotte.”

The chill hardened into coldest fear.

She clung to Geeta. Charlotte was the one person Nicola dreaded telling.

“Are you nervous?” Geeta whispered.

All the possible outcomes flooded her mind.

“Yes.” She was about this, with good reason. “Are you?”

And Geeta clung tighter.