But we don’t have that conversation. The day moves on. I notice the changing pattern in the weather. The initial humidity of the morning is gone and now the cool breeze of the sea is making its way up into the village and hitting the front garden. I’m outside cutting the grass and our garden seems entirely insignificant opposite the green. How I long in my heart for a large garden, it’s what I always dreamt of, why don’t I have one? My neighbour, spotting an opportunity, tries once again to talk to me about the hedge. I ignore him and he walks back into his house. I wonder why it’s so difficult to regurgitate penne, perhaps it has something to do with its shape.

Evening draws in and the children have to be looked after. Now is not a good time, I sense, to ask Jenny to give me a hand, so I go about boiling potatoes and grilling pork chops. I peel some smoked salmon from a packet for Maeve. I wash my hands quickly while avoiding breathing in its oily fumes.

We sit down together at the table and we each have our own way of eating and that’s fine, but Joey is bolting his food as if he’s not expecting to be fed for a very long time. It’s too hard not to mention it so I do. If I don’t give these instructions what kind of a father am I? Jenny is quiet and I feel that I need to break down this barrier she has erected so I ask her if the pork chops are overcooked, if she likes the sauce? She nods and I’m not sure if she means that I’ve ruined the meat or if she is enjoying the medley of flavours I have created. Maeve can sense something amiss, she can be very perceptive. She asks Jenny about the upcoming show and if Jenny is excited about it. I feel like laughing. My children do not know what I have done.

What did you say to Simon? I ask Jenny.

She ignores me. Maeve waits for her answer and I wait for mine. I feel like I could cut through this tension with a knife. When Jenny speaks it’s as if she has been storing up her speech all day and it feels rehearsed. She explains to Maeve that she has made the difficult decision that she isn’t happy with the work she has done so far for the group show and she is going to start all over again.

I keep my head down.

When I am tucking Maeve into bed we have a brief discussion about disappointment and how that very notion means different things to different people.