‘Okay.’ She turned and walked down the hall into the large, light- filled kitchen. He remembered them having this extension built, back when Gabe had just been born; how the flapping sheets of blue plastic over the end of the wall had frightened Ethan, who must have been four at the time. This room was the heart of the home, the long oak table set more often than not with a couple of extra places for friends. The layers and texture of family life that had silted up were visible everywhere: framed holiday photos and Art Deco posters alongside the crayoned drawings on the walls; a collection of spotted mugs clustered colourfully along the dresser, mingling with various wonky school- made pots; the fridge boasting certificates for good spelling, football skills, an art commendation.

Today the room had a different feel. Perhaps it was the meanness of the late- afternoon light that left it drabber than usual, but there was definitely a new air of neglect about the place as well. Some of the plants on the windowsill appeared shrivelled and stalky, their leaves miserably brown in places. There was a box of recycling by the bin – cardboard and empty yogurt pots and tin cans – waiting to be sorted. And random stuff lay everywhere: library books and unopened post, a pair of shin- pads, a roll of gaffer tape, a broken necklace, a spelling chart . . . A Lego knight lay face-down on top of the butter dish and Dan stood it up again, wondering where the children were. It felt as if he’d entered an alternative universe; one out of sync with real life.

‘Sorry about the mess,’ Zoe said. She sounded defiant, as if she expected criticism. ‘I’m in the middle of dinner.’

‘Yes. Sorry,’ he replied like an echo, unsure what else to say. There were sausages spitting in formation under the grill, he saw, a pan of potatoes foaming on the hob, and a chopping board on the side with a mound of peeled carrots. ‘Can I . . . do anything?’ He hadn’t even brought a token gift, he realized, cursing himself. No flowers or wine, no peace offering at all.

‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘Do you want a drink? I’m going to carry on with this, if you don’t mind.’