'He's a little upstart. You look like death. Is the baby not sleeping?'

'She's a nightmare.'

'Damn it's hard when they don't sleep. Where's your night nurse?'

'She did a runner, said she was too tired. The agency is trying to find another. How the hell did you do it, Meredith? I'm really struggling.'

'My husband did the nights from Monday to Thursday. I did the weekends.'

'I think she has reflux. Her father obviously had shitty digestive genes that he passed on to her.'

'You need to find some kind of night nurse or babysitter to do a few week nights. You can't survive on no sleep. Your work will suffer and that little prick is dying for you to mess up. He's just waiting for his opportunity to pounce.'

'Tell me about it. I can feel him breathing down my neck.'

'I'll ring around and see if any of my friends know of any good night nurses or someone who can help you out.'

'Thanks you're a life-saver.'

'Don't let the bastards get you down and remember, Louise, it's up to us to shatter the glass ceiling!'

I ate a slice of chocolate cake for dessert for the first time since the canteen had opened eight years ago. I needed the sugar to keep me going. I tried calling Sophie again. I'd left three messages for her. I wanted to know if she had any advice on how to deal with Clara. She spent all her time drinking coffee with other mothers. Maybe one of them had had a baby with reflux. But Sophie hadn't returned my calls, which wasn't like her. She always phoned back, and it wasn't as if she was busy.

'Look, Sophie, this is the fourth message I've left in the last three days. Can you just call me back, please. I need to ask you something about Clara. I know you're busy with your trainer and your Pilates, but I really need to talk to you so just call me.'

I drank my seventh coffee of the day and willed myself to stay awake.

24.

Sophie.

When Jack had first admitted to the mess we were in I'd cried for three days solid. He had kept trying to explain, to apologize, to excuse his mistakes, but none of it mattered. We were broke. We were nothing. We were nobody. It was all just words. None of it meant anything. None of it made any difference. He had lost everything we had, including my dad's rainy-day fund.

I was catatonic with shock. All I did was lie in bed, with the door locked, to cry. I didn't want to see or talk to Jack. I needed to be alone. It was Jack who took Jess to Montessori and picked her up. I told him to tell her and everyone else that I was sick that I had a really bad contagious flu and he was helping out for a week or two.

On the third day the home phone rang. I let the answering machine pick up. It was Jess's school. In a polite and roundabout way the secretary informed me that the cheque for Jess's last term had bounced and they were just wondering if we could arrange payment as soon as possible.

Days passed, and I tried to pull myself together before Jess got home from school. I washed my face and put some cream on my eyes to make them look less puffy. I sat up in bed with a magazine on my lap, trying to look sick as opposed to suicidal. I heard her coming in, chatting happily to Jack. She had no idea our world had fallen apart, and I wanted to protect her from it for as long as I could.

Jess always came straight up to see me, to check on how I was feeling. She climbed into my bed to cuddle and asked me why my eyes were still all red and sad. I told her it was part of the flu. 'It's a nasty flu that makes your eyes water all the time,' I explained.

'But you look so sad, Mummy.'

'Well, I am a bit sad because I'm stuck in bed and I want to be well so I can take you to school and hang out with you.'

'It's funny having Daddy collect me.'

'Is it?'

'Yes, he never did before so it feels weird, but nice weird.'

'You really like school, don't you, Jess?'

'Oh, yes, Mummy, I love it. Mrs Garner is so nice and I love all my friends, especially Bella. Do you know what we did today?'

'What?'

'We planted teeny-tiny seeds in little pots of mud and Mrs Garner said they'll grow into beautiful flowers soon. And tomorrow we're having a tea party and we all have to bring in our favourite toy. So I'm going to bring my doll Sisi in, because she's so pretty in her Spanish-dancer dress.'

'That's a good idea,' I said, tucking her silky hair behind her ears. Then, fighting back tears I asked her, 'Jess, do you think it would be fun to stay at home with Mummy instead of going to school?'

'For one day?'

'Well, how about for a lot of days? How about staying with me every day?'

Jess's sweet little face crinkled up. 'Can't I do both? Can't I go to school and then be with you after school, like we do now?'

'Or maybe you could stay at home and I could be your teacher in the morning and your mummy in the afternoon. We can have school here in the house.'

'But what about my friends? What about Bella?' Jess's lip began to quiver. She didn't understand what was going on, but whatever it was she didn't like it.

'You'd still see her. She could still come for play-dates,' I lied. How could you have a play-date if you didn't have a house?

'No, Mummy, I want to go to school.'

'OK, sweetie, don't cry. You can stay at school. Mummy will sort it out.' I hugged her close and forced myself not to cry.

'I hope you feel better soon, Mummy. Would you like me to bring you some soy milk?' she asked.

'No, thank you, pet, I'm fine. Why don't you go and play for a while?'

Jess ran off to her toys and I lay back on the pillow. I hadn't showered in days. I felt disgusting I was disgusting. Who cared what I looked like? My life was over. I couldn't even give my baby girl the one thing she wanted school. What was the point in getting out of bed?

One day my personal trainer rang my mobile phone. I didn't answer. I had messages from everyone telling me my cheques had bounced and they were owed money. Victoria had left five messages about the money for the holiday. Eventually I texted her to say I was too sick to talk, but we had changed our minds about Venice: we were backing out. I'd pay her for the scarf as soon as I was well. She sent me a frosty text telling me that it was very late notice about the holiday and she was extremely disappointed that I had waited so long to tell her.

There were several messages from Louise, demanding I call her back. She sounded incredibly stressed and I could hear Clara crying in the background, but I couldn't face anyone right now. Julie had called to ask me to take her shopping for an outfit for her fortieth. Mum had called a few times too. Jack had told her I was sick, so she was checking up on me. Gavin had called looking to 'borrow' some money. Apparently his tent had a rip and needed to be repaired. Saskia had called to remind me about the charity lunch next week and to ask what I was wearing. Daniella called to say that Harvey Nicks were giving her a preview of the new Marc Jacobs collection, did I want to come? Paula left a message reminding me that we were due to go for lunch in the new Michelin-starred restaurant in town on Friday.

One night, when Jess was asleep, Jack came in to talk to me.

'Go away. I've nothing to say to you.'

'You can't stay in bed for ever. You need to get up.' He shuffled about at the end of the bed, hands in his pockets.

'What for? To face all the people I owe money to? To be made a public mockery of "Oh, look, it's Sophie Wells. She used to have a life, but now she's in the gutter"?'

'We'll get over this. We'll move on we're a team. We need to be strong and stick together. I know I fucked up, but I'm doing everything I can to fix it.'

'Oh, really? Like what? Are you going to get our money back? Because that's the only way to fix this mess. And you've told me a hundred times that it's all gone, that there is no money and no way of recouping it so what exactly are you going to do, Jack? Magic it out of thin air?'

He ran his hand through his hair. Grey strands had appeared, literally overnight. 'Come on, Sophie, I'm doing my best.'

'Well, your best is rubbish. Not only have you managed to throw all of your company's money down the toilet, but you did it with my personal money and even our house too. We're going to have to take Jess out of school do you have any idea what that will do to her, how upset she's going to be? You're a real genius, Jack.'

He glared at me. 'I may not be a genius, but I'm the one who has been funding your five-star lifestyle for the past six years while you've swanned about dripping with jewels and designer clothes. You haven't had to lift a bloody finger because I was working my arse off making millions. And I was happy to do it. I liked being able to spoil you. I loved being able to give you and Jess everything you wanted. Don't throw that back in my face.'

I lashed out: 'I spent six years working my arse off to look good for you because Jack Wells likes a hot wife. Jack Wells doesn't want his wife putting on weight or looking older. When Jess was born Jack Wells didn't like his wife being tired. He didn't like his wife being hormonal. He wanted his life exactly the way it was. He expected his wife to be the same, unchanged even though she'd given birth. So, yes, Jack, I have spent tons of money on injecting rat poison into my face so I don't age, working out every day and starving myself so I don't put on weight, buying expensive clothes so I always look groomed, because that's what you wanted. You wanted a trophy wife and I was one. I held up my part of the bargain. You have failed miserably at yours.'

'Give me a break! You loved every minute of it. You loved the money and the clothes and the ladies-who-lunch crap. You loved the flashy jewellery and the cars and your new rich friends and your ten holidays a year. Don't try and pretend you were doing it for me. You spent it as fast as I could make it.'

'I trusted you to keep us safe and secure. That was your job. I did everything to make your life easy. You never had to do anything but work. I looked after Jess. I made sure the house ran smoothly. I made sure your suits were dry-cleaned, your shirts freshly ironed, your shoes polished, your dinner cooked, your favourite TV shows recorded, your holidays organized, your '

Jack threw his arms into the air. 'You had staff to do all of it. You barely lifted a finger in this house. I gave you a life of bloody luxury.'

'So where is it now?' I shouted.

'I made a bad business decision! I didn't kill anyone!' he bellowed back.

'You might as well have. Our life is over.'

'Stop being so melodramatic. It isn't over. It's just going to be different for a while. Until I get back on my feet.'

'Different? Our house is probably going to be repossessed we're going to be on the street.'

He looked away. 'I've got Anthony trying to stop that happening. He's the best lawyer I know, and he's helping me as a favour, but we may have to sell it.'

'Aargh,' I cried. 'We'll never be the same. You've ruined everything. How could you put our house, our family home, into a dodgy business deal? Your home is your haven! You don't risk it like that! You do not risk making your family homeless. Is nothing sacred to you?'

'You don't understand I used it as collateral against borrowings.'

'I may not know anything about the corporate world, Jack, but I do understand that you've ruined us with your greed. It wasn't enough for you to be making money for the company, you had to pump all of our money and savings and even our home into this deal too.'

'My so-called greed provided you with the luxurious lifestyle you love. I don't remember you ever saying, "Take it easy, Jack, don't work so hard, Jack, you don't have to make more money, Jack." You loved it when I got big bonuses. You loved it when I bought you expensive jewellery and cars. Every time one of your friends got something bigger or shinier than you, I'd be the first to hear about it. So I worked harder and provided more money to fund your lifestyle.'

'MY LIFESTYLE!' I shouted. 'What about you, Jack? I'm not the one who spent two hundred grand on an Aston Martin or thirty thousand on a Rolex watch. And you spend as much on your custom-made suits as I do on my clothes, so don't you dare try to make out that I spent all your money. You enjoyed the lifestyle as much as I did.'

Jack shook his finger in my face. 'You were always going on and on about Victoria having nicer clothes and a bigger car than you. How whenever they went on holidays, Gerry booked the presidential suite in whatever hotel they stayed in. When Saskia got a diamond S from Tiffany's, you described it to me in excruciating detail. I got the message loud and clear, and I bought you a bigger one for Christmas. You were always pushing for more.'

'I was not. I was happy with what I had. I loved my life. I didn't always want more. Sometimes I was embarrassed in front of my family because I had so much and Julie had so little.'

'Maybe in front of your own family, but with your friends you always wanted more. You had that idiot Victoria on a pedestal. For God's sake, Sophie, you worshipped her. You wanted to be her. Well, newsflash: I'm not Gerry Ward.'

'You can say that again. He wouldn't piss his whole fortune down the drain on one stupid lousy deal.'

Jack narrowed his eyes. 'Maybe not, but he's riding half of Dublin.'

'What?' There was no way Gerry was unfaithful to Victoria. He adored her. She was always telling me how romantic he was. Besides, she was beautiful and glamorous and stylish. She was the perfect wife.

Jack laughed bitterly. 'Yes, Sophie, the amazing Gerry is screwing around and has been for years. Victoria may have great clothes, but she can't keep her husband's trousers on.'

'That's bullshit he adores her. I've seen the way he looks at her. He'd never cheat on her. She's stunning.'

'Believe me, Sophie, he's having affairs left, right and centre.'

'How do you know?'

'Because he told me.'

'When?'

'Last year, when we were skiing. We went for a few beers while you girls were getting a massage. He told me very openly that he played around. His exact words were "I don't do monogamy."'

'What did you say?'

'Nothing. I just listened.'

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because Victoria's your friend and I didn't want to put you in the awkward position of knowing that her husband was having sex with other women.'

'Why are you telling me this now? Have you been unfaithful to me too?'

'No, I have not,' Jack snapped, looking furious. 'Unlike Gerry I do believe in monogamy. I also believe in marriages where the spouses support each other and stand by each other through thick and thin.'

'And I believe in marriages where the husband doesn't make irresponsible decisions that leave his wife and child homeless. And I wouldn't worry about me telling you what amazing things Victoria has any more because I won't be seeing her. She doesn't hang around with VAGRANTS!' I shouted in his face.

'There's nothing you can say to make me feel worse than I already do. I messed up. I get it. You hate me. You think I'm a worthless piece of shit. Kick me while I'm down. Go on, tell me again what a loser I am,' Jack yelled back.

'STOP!'

Jack and I spun around. Jess was standing at the door in her Minnie Mouse pyjamas. She had her hands over her ears and was sobbing her little heart out. 'Stop being mean to each other.'

I leapt off the bed and scooped her up in my arms. 'Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. It's OK Mummy and Daddy are just being cross. We're sorry for waking you.'

'Daddy said you hate him. Do you, Mummy? Do you really hate Daddy?'

I hugged her. 'Of course not.'

Jack crouched beside me and wiped a tear from his daughter's face. 'Hey, Jess, we were being really silly. But it was just a little fight, nothing serious. It's OK, honey, don't cry.'

'Family hug,' Jess said, putting her little arms around both of us. Jack put his arm around me. My arm hung limply beside him.