Amber walked down the hallway and picked up the post from the mat. The under floor heating was at just the right temperature, and the carpet was soft Mongolian wool she’d had imported and trimmed. The wallpaper cost over three hundred pounds a roll, and the front door was solid oak with stained glass that lit up the floor in bursts of colour when the sun shone. It had taken her over three years and tens of thousands of pounds to complete the house, and already her palms were itching. She wanted to rip the paper from the walls and start all over again.

‘Ready, Mummy.’

Samantha was the only person Amber knew who had one eye a different colour to the other. One eye bright blue like her father, and the other a deep hazel like her mother. Samantha was her rare treasure.

‘Almost perfect,’ she said as she eyed her daughter standing at the bottom of the stairs. She tucked a lock of hair behind Samantha’s ear. It was bright auburn, just like hers. She looked her daughter up and down and adjusted her school tie.

‘There. Beautiful as always. Your lunch is on the island.’

‘Thanks.’

As Samantha walked down the hall to the kitchen, Amber placed the post on the sideboard and vowed to look through Richard’s later. That’s if she had the time. A busy day lay ahead. She glanced down the hall to check that Samantha was out of sight before she took Richard’s phone from her pocket.

Another text from his mistress.

Yes, Neena, she thought to herself. We are.

Amber walked towards the kitchen and replied to the message the same way her husband would, after days of devouring every adulterous word and studying his responses.

‘Is that Daddy’s phone?’

Amber looked up. Samantha sat at the island preparing a bowl of cereal.

‘I found it down the side of the sofa. I’ll drop it at the office later. This is from Daddy.’ Amber kissed her on the forehead and went to the coffee machine. She couldn’t stomach breakfast. Rage had swelled in her abdomen and taken up every inch of space. Coffee would have to do.

As she fixed herself a mug, she thought of Richard with his lover, and imagined them naked on top of the island, grunting and moaning until their sweat glistened on the marble worktop. She clamped her hand around the mug.

She would get her own back – she just had to be patient.

‘You’re shivering,’ Samantha said.

‘What, darling?’

Samantha looked up at her from the very same island Amber had envisioned as a make shift bed for her husband and his lover. For a brief second she saw both worlds: the lovers ravishing each other right in front of Samantha’s twelve-year-old eyes. She blinked furiously until they were gone.

‘I said you’re shivering.’