“Now,” says Joanna, “you’re in my mum’s flat, and my mum adores you, but, and listen to this carefully, Elizabeth. Are you listening?” Elizabeth says nothing. “I’m sorry,” says Joanna, sitting forward. “I asked if you were listening?” “I’m listening,” says Elizabeth. “Good,” says Joanna. “I am not my mum. I swear if you talk to my husband like that again, we’re leaving. We should have taken these text messages to the police, but we’re showing them to you instead. And we’re showing them to you because we respect you. Please show us the same courtesy.” Elizabeth gives perhaps the smallest nod in
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