Imogen slammed her bedroom door, but her mum followed her upstairs anyway and even though Imogen told her to go away she came inside.
‘Gennie,’ she said gently, ‘I’m sorry if I upset you.’
Imogen sat down on her bed, and her mum sat beside her.
‘The longer you leave things, the harder it will get,’ her mum said.
‘I don’t care.’
Her mum gave her a reproachful look. ‘I know Jonny’s death is still very raw to you,’ she said matter-of-factly, ‘but there’s only so long you can hide away.’
Imogen drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. She wanted to be left alone. That’s all she ever wanted. ‘You knew Jonny,’ she said, ‘you knew what he was like. How could I ever find somebody else like him? How could you even suggest that I try?’
‘Why don’t I show you the website I found?’ her mum asked, ‘you don’t need to do anything today, just have a look. I’m sure it would be good for you. I was thinking just before the woman came into the shop and told me about how she met her husband that I wish I could be sent a sign of how I could help you-’
‘I let Jonny down,’ Imogen said, ignoring her mum. ‘He turned to that game because he couldn’t get what he needed from me. I was… I was a terrible wife.’