‘There’s nothing in the fridge,’ she continued, slamming the door shut with unnecessary force.

‘All right, Gabriela. Well, one of us can go to the shop.’

‘One of us?’ she replied. Where was this rage coming from? And yet, she felt justified in her frustration. All week, Tom stayed at home, picking up bits of work here and there as he fancied, the time between dropping the kids off and picking them up completely his own, his mind free from the constant threats that rotated in hers, the tornado of questions Tom never thought to ask let alone answer, and he couldn’t even manage to stay on top of the occasional domestic task that would otherwise inevitably fall to her. How could it be she who paid the bills and yet it was still her job to remember to stock up on food as well?

‘I’m sorry, Gabriela. Are you insinuating I don’t do my fair share?’

‘I’m not insinuating anything, Tom. I am simply saying it’s nearly four o’clock and in an hour or so the kids will need to eat again, and there is no food in the fridge.’

‘And that’s my fault, is it? Do you have any idea—’

‘You know what? I don’t need another argument with you.’

She walked out, ignoring the sound of him calling after her as she moved up the stairs to the bathroom.

But despite what she’d told him, the truth was she did need an argument. Anything to make her feel like it wasn’t her fault, all of this; anything to alleviate the sense of shame that was creeping up, pushing through the cracks in the doorframe as she moved into the bedroom and slammed the door, picking up a pillow and screaming into it until her throat burned.

Chapter 31

Gabriela

It was a couple of weeks later when she found herself walking down Pall Mall, precariously close to Crown Passage. Madeleine was still away and the truth, Gabriela realised, was that she was lonely.

I’m in town, I just wondered if you fancied a coffee?

She sent the message only half-expecting him to reply. Besides, what were the chances of him being around and free for a drink at such short notice?

When she saw the moving dots on the screen indicating that he was typing back, her whole chest tightened.

No but I fancy a proper drink. Davy’s Wine Bar? In an hour’s time?

She stopped in a Starbucks on the way, slipping into the Ladies and checking her reflection. It was just a drink, she told herself as she reapplied her lipstick, adding a touch of mascara to her lashes from the make-up bag she’d slipped into her handbag before leaving the house that morning, as if subconsciously planning it.

He was already there when she arrived and she felt a smile break across her face at the sight of him.