‘A quick hit every now and then turned into a regular thing and by the time Hailey was three… when Stephen figured out why I’d changed he…’

Aidan could imagine, the anger, the threats.

‘He cried,’ she said simply. The one reaction Aidan hadn’t been expecting. ‘He took some leave, brought us home, and… things got better for a while. With Mum to help out it seemed almost manageable, the periods Stephen was away weren’t so lonely, but then Mum…’ This time tears spilled down Julie’s cheeks. ‘Mum had a heart attack. Hypertension.’

It runs in families. If only Lucy had known.

‘I couldn’t cope. Turned to… my mechanisms again.’ She wiped her face with the heel of her hand. ‘I felt… I was suffocating. I couldn’t manage without Mum. Hailey was so demanding. Stephen was abroad. I… When he came home I told him I were going to the shops and…’ She huffed out breath. ‘It wasn’t planned but I couldn’t face going back.’

Aidan didn’t know what to say, why was she telling him all of this? Didn’t she have any friends to talk to? It was disconcerting. His fingers rested on the car keys, desperate to leave.

‘I rang once… a few years later, but Stephen… Stephen had said they’d waited in limbo long enough. He had told Hailey I’d died so she’d have some closure.’

‘That’s incredibly sad, but I really do have an appointment to get to. Why don’t you go and see Hailey? It’s never too late for a fresh start.’

‘Yeah it is. It is for me. I haven’t got a soul anymore.’ She holds Aidan with a steely stare. ‘If I had, I’d fucking sell it.’

Despite the air conditioning blasting out of the vents, sweat pooled under Aidan’s arms. Rolled down his forehead.

‘I don’t know what you want—’

‘I. Want. You. To. Listen.’ Julie pulled out her mobile.

Aidan knew that whatever she wanted to play him was bad. He had the urge to snatch the phone out of her hand, throw it across the car park, but it was an older model, sturdy, and even if he threw it away she might have a copy of whatever it was.

There was a crackle. Hissing. Despite not wanting to know what the recording was, Aidan automatically leaned closer to hear.

‘God, Mel.’ It was Lucy speaking. Aidan’s hands tightened into fists. This woman had been near his wife. ‘I can’t believe that Hailey…’ There was the chink of china drowning out her next words. They must have been in a coffee shop. He could picture Lucy, her hands wrapped around a mug of steaming cappuccino sprinkled with chocolate. ‘Connor will never get over this. Never forgive me.’

‘There’s nothing to forgive. What happened with Hailey is tragic. Terribly sad, but it isn’t your fault.’