Nico watched, trying to decide what to do. At length, he got up and went to the kitchen and fetched her a glass of water and the kitchen roll. Before sitting down again he took a peek in at the girls to see Maria once again clinging to Josie while Josie read aloud from a brightly coloured book. When he got back to the lounge Loren was blowing her nose.

He patted her arm. Her tear-ravaged face looked as if ten years had passed since she’d been his wife, not less than three. Apart from her period of postnatal depression she’d always looked after herself, had her hair cut and coloured, splashed out on clothes, make-up and shoes and generally lived up to her income from selling apartments in upscale retirement villages. Now she looked a pallid, broken wreck and he was getting a new and unpleasant perspective on the consequences of him ending their marriage. He’d provided security. He’d looked after her.

Softly, gently, he said, ‘Lor, I think you need help.’

She nodded, keeping her gaze on the piece of kitchen roll in her hands as she searched for a dry spot.

‘Maria mustn’t suffer.’

She shook her head, managing a watery smile. ‘You’re a good man, Nico. Most men would have refused to have anything to do with Maria.’

‘Josie loves her and Maria can’t help what happened,’ he said. ‘She’s a sweet little girl and I can’t clear off home and risk her being left alone to cry for hours. She deserves healthy meals and drinks when she wants them. To have access to the toilet.’

Looking guilty and contrite, Loren nodded. ‘How long can you take her for?’

Shock slashed through him. ‘What?’

Loren looked confused. ‘You said you couldn’t leave her here, didn’t you? Maybe a week or so’s all I need to get my head straight—’

‘Take Maria and look after her?’ he demanded, to be clear.

‘Oh, that wasn’t what you meant.’ Loren began to cry again. ‘I know it’s not fair. Her father doesn’t want anything to do with her other than minimal financial support and Mum’s stressed because Dad’s having his triple heart bypass on Monday. I thought … well, you’ve got Tilly.’

‘I know,’ he said, helplessly. ‘But—’

‘Just a week,’ she begged. ‘Or I’ll have to see about her going into care—’

‘NO!’ cried Josie, bursting into the room. ‘No, Daddy, don’t let her! I know what care is. It’s in Jacqueline Wilson books about Tracy Beaker. Maria would be with strangers and I wouldn’t see her.’ Then she threw herself into Nico’s arms, sobs roaring from the back of her throat.