‘Come on guys,’ Tom said, ushering them back upstairs without looking at her. ‘We’d better get you ready for school. Your mum had better hurry, too, or she’ll be late for her precious job.’

As soon as Tom had left with the children, Gabriela dressed and headed to the phone shop on Holloway Road, buying a new SIM to fit her phone.

Outside, she took her old SIM from her pocket and dropped it into the nearest bin.

They barely spoke for two days after that. When Tom did finally address her, he said, ‘I’m thinking of going away for a few days. Jim and I … There’s a gig up in Glasgow …’

‘Right,’ she said.

‘It’s next weekend …’

‘OK. Fine with me.’

‘Really?’ He sounded surprised. ‘But won’t it interfere with work? The kids will need dropping off and picking up on the Friday from tennis camp.’

‘That’s OK.’

She moved towards the fridge to pull out a drink, and when she turned around he was watching her.

‘So you’re fine with it?’

‘Sure,’ she said.

‘OK.’ There was a hint of disbelief in his voice. ‘I’ll go and call Jim then, tell him that we’re on.’

‘By the way, I’ve got a new number,’ Gabriela added before Tom disappeared out the door.

‘How come?’

‘They’ve upgraded our phones. Everyone has a new one.’

She waited for him to call her out, but he barely shrugged. ‘Fine. Text it to me and I’ll replace the old one.’

Tom left first thing on Friday morning. The kids’ tennis club that ran for the duration of half-term didn’t start until ten. Sadie had packed her things in a bag and was waiting at the foot of the stairs when Gabriela came down, just after seven.

‘Is Callum still asleep?’ she asked and Sadie nodded.

‘Hey, listen,’ Gabriela said, settling herself next to her daughter on the narrow tread and kissing her on the forehead, drawing her towards her and relishing the feeling of the child in her arms. Closing her eyes, from nowhere she pictured the image of St Genevieve and immediately her mind moved to her own mother. Gabriela winced.

Sitting up, she lifted Sadie’s face to look at hers. ‘That man, on the Heath … he didn’t do anything to you?’

Sadie held her eye and shook her head. ‘He just took me to the café and bought me an ice cream.’

‘How old was he?’ She was racking her mind for meaningful questions, hoping to elicit an answer – what kind, she couldn’t be sure: one, she supposed, that would suggest it was unconnected to Emsworth, a fluke event that would free her of the guilt that ran up her back like fingers, threatening to choke her.

‘Don’t know,’ Sadie said. ‘He said he was your friend …’ She started to cry and Gabriela wrapped her arms around her again.