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Zelda had been dating Jake for a year when it happened. Mum warned her on the first day she brought him home for tea, said she’d get hurt by the likes of him. They were from different worlds. Jake’s parents were rich, successful professionals, with two beautiful homes, one in Hampstead and the other on the south coast. Mr and Mrs Arquette would drive down to their getaway home most weekends to escape the madness of London, leaving their only son to party to his heart’s content. Their north London house was notorious for pool parties and magnums of champagne.

One summer night, Jake and Zelda decided to surprise his parents in Whitstable. It was unbelievably hot. We couldn’t sleep and temperatures were soaring. We all longed for the sea and clean air. Jake couldn’t drive. But Zelda had just passed her test. Mrs Arquette’s Ferrari was parked on the carriage driveway, gleaming in all its redness. The keys were a stone’s throw away, hanging on a hook in the hallway. Jake persuaded Zelda to get behind the wheel – promised her she was insured - the policy was for any driver. Dizzy on love, adventure and innocence, Zelda agreed.

They jumped into the sports car and hit the road with the wind in their hair. Zelda said Jake was high as a kite, swigging neat vodka straight from the bottle. When they got off the motorway, he opened the passenger window and sat on the ledge, woohooing, screaming that he was the king of the world. Zelda said she felt nervous, pleaded with him to get back inside but he wouldn’t listen. She didn’t see the bend, nor the oncoming lorry. She slammed on the brakes, the car fishtailed and she lost control of the wheel.

Jake died instantly. There was an inquest. Neighbours said before the accident, they heard loud voices and screaming from the house in Hampstead. The police interviewed Zelda. ‘We were just mucking around in the pool,’ she said in her statement. ‘Our voices accelerated.’ The gossip and rumours didn’t help. Paul, one of Jake’s friends, said Jake was seeing another girl behind Zelda’s back, and that he was going to end it with Zelda that weekend. None of it was substantiated, or true. Jake was in love with Zelda. Everyone knew that. He even gave her a ring.

But the seed was planted, so I questioned Zelda, as any big sister would – had they argued in the car – did he chuck her – was she upset – driving too fast – did she lose control of the wheel? I told her to tell me the truth, that I’d have her back. Zelda looked at me silently and then she got up and left the room. She didn’t speak to me for two weeks.

It was the worst time of our lives. We got eggs thrown at Mum’s car. Murderers graffitied on our front door. Mum couldn’t take any more abuse. Her paintings were selling like hotcakes and her accountant suggested she invest it in property, so we moved. Zelda got done for driving without insurance and permission from the driver. But after discovering that the brake pads and rotors on Mrs Arquette’s car were worn out, the coroner ruled that the fatality was an accident. And as there was no evidence of foul play, the police let Zelda go. Jake’s parents never forgave Zelda for the death of their son.

‘Of course, I believe you,’ I say now. ‘It just came out wrong. I’m sorry. Zelda, come on. What are you doing?’

‘You knew Frank was a nutjob.’ Zelda buzzes around the kitchen, opening and closing worse-for-wear cabinet doors, one of which has been hanging off its hinges for ages. ‘But why bother warning your sister, who was sharing a bed with him, when you had more pressing things to do.’ She pours two inches of gin into a glass and downs it like water. ‘Like getting that new skivvy of yours to cook you all a three-course meal on your top-of-the-range Aga, for your perfect family, in your flashy new home?’

Shock courses through me. Where is this coming from? ‘My life isn’t a bed of roses,’ I say, wearily. ‘We’re up to our necks in debt.’

‘Oh, come off it,’ Zelda snaps, ‘you want for nothing.’

‘Girls, come on,’ Linda pleads, eyes darting from me to Zelda worriedly.

‘We work bloody hard,’ I contend, shooting to my feet. Linda holds her head in her hands. Zelda takes a swig of gin straight from the bottle, eyes not leaving me. I can’t believe we’re arguing. That Frank is still managing to do this to us. I sit back down. Rubbing my temple, I stare at my sister – she looks broken. Zelda hasn’t had it easy. I know that Jake’s death, all those years ago, still haunts her, and she’s always struggled financially. ‘Look, I know things have been difficult for you but now you’re self-employed…’

‘Business is going down the pan,’ she interjects.

‘But I thought you had a waiting list?’

‘I let a few clients down at the last minute.’ Zelda squeezes her top lip between her fingers. ‘It was when I went on that stupid holiday to Monaco with Frank. Most of my clients were mums from the local school. Word gets around. They’re all using Lena now,’ she groans, as if we know who Lena is. ‘A girl from Kosovo. Her daughter goes to Mortimer. She’s just started up – undercutting me on prices too. I heard she’s very good.’

‘The quality won’t be good if she’s using cheap supplies,’ Linda suggests, and Zelda shrugs. ‘They’ll soon come knocking on your door again, hon.’

‘Linda’s right.’ I curl a hand around Zelda’s forearm and give it a gentle squeeze. ‘Things will pick up again, I’m sure. I’ve had slumps in the past.’

Zelda gives me a dark look. ‘You’re forgetting one thing – you’ve got a husband to support you.’

‘Okay, I have.’ I sigh, drawing my hand back. ‘But I’ve got problems too, you know.’ A big fat one called Liam. ‘Come on, love, where’s the strong Zelda I know? The woman who refuses to be defined by a man?’

Zelda throws her hands up in the air. ‘You should’ve told me about Frank from day one. Stopped me,’ she says, her anger returning. ‘Why did you meet up with Liam, anyway? You’ve got a good guy. You’ve got it all. Why fuck it up for a bunk up with your ex?’ I go to speak, explain that it wasn’t like that, but she talks over me, face twisted in fury. ‘God, I’m surprised Tom has stuck around. I’d have left you years ago.’ Her words slice through my heart like shards.

‘Oh, so Tom’s a fucking archangel now, is he? A good catch? You’ve certainly changed your tune,’ I snap, reminding her that she was his first choice all those years ago, and she turned him down, said he was too nerdy.

‘You know what I mean. The way you’ve…’

‘Enough, Zelda,’ Linda intervenes. ‘I know you’re upset, but there’s no need to be so harsh. Bella wanted to tell you about Frank the moment you arrived yesterday, but I put her off.’

Zelda looks incredulous, eyes wild. ‘So, it’s your fault.’

‘Zelda,’ I exclaim. ‘This isn’t anyone’s fault. It…’

‘What were you doing?’ Zelda says to Linda, talking over me. ‘Protecting your ex-lover?’

The room goes silent and I’m suddenly aware of the fridge freezer whirring. Frank told her about his one-night stand with Linda.