Instead, he’d deliberately let her think he was forging a new connection with Loren – far from true. When he’d delivered Maria home on Tuesday he’d felt so uneasy at Loren’s bleak lassitude and Maria’s lost expression that he’d said, ‘You won’t want Josie overnight for a while. A couple of short visits a week will be better.’ Taking and fetching Josie would enable him to keep an eye on Maria and Loren too. There was no way he was leaving Josie on sleepovers unless he was certain Loren could cope and Josie wasn’t scared of what her mum might do.

This definitely wasn’t ‘working on things’ with Loren but it had felt preferable to saying he’d found out about Albin and why the hell had Hannah responded to Nico when she had a sambo? It was disrespectful to both of them and he hated wanting her despite his simmering anger. He could have fallen back on Rob’s crap about not going out with a teammate’s sister but he suspected she’d brush that away with a ‘bonkers brother’ remark.

So he’d put his ex-wife between them and the light had died from Hannah’s eyes.

With only cabin baggage he cleared passport control and hurried down to take the tube to Holloway Road, using the time on his laptop. Then came the ten-minute walk from the station to his house. It was in darkness when he let himself quietly in. He went up to peep at Josie as she slept, letting the day’s stresses melt away at the sight of her blonde locks swirling over the pillow as if blown there. Maria’s bed being empty hit him unexpectedly below his breastbone and he hoped Loren was coping with her OK.

Emelie stuck her head out of her door to wave sleepily at him. He gave her a bar of Marabou chocolate he’d grabbed from the airport shop as she always appreciated a taste of home. She whispered her thanks gratefully. ‘Tack!’ Ripping open the packet, she withdrew.

Nico went to his own room, undressed and let his tired body plummet onto his bed, groaning with pleasure at the clean smell of the duvet and its coolness on his skin. Then he made the mistake of glancing at his phone. Red notification dots had attached themselves to app icons like ticks. Three missed calls and eight texts with a couple of WhatsApp messages for good measure. He debated switching the bloody thing off but, with a sigh, checked the texts.

All six were from Loren’s mum, though he felt less alarmed at the number when he saw she sent a message for every sentence. Spoke to Loren. She sounded down.

Are you likely to see her this weekend?

If so, could you ring me after?

Redfern’s out of hospital and needs help but I could dash down tomorrow afternoon if I had to.