But Jake is lost to her, his eyes scanning the newsprint. ‘What the fuck …’ he says, and then looks up.

The woman sees them first.

No sooner has Leah stepped down on to the patio than the woman is out of the door, crossing the paving, her small face a tight knot of hostility.

‘Jenna,’ Leah begins, but before she can say another word, the woman has slapped her hard across the face.

‘You bitch! You murdering fucking bitch!’ she says, slapping at Leah, whose hands go up to shield her face from the blows.

‘Stop it! Stop this at once!’ Hilary barks, appalled at the sudden violence. She grabs the woman’s wrist and pulls her back.

Leah is crouched on her knees, her hair falling forward over her face. The woman – Jenna – is breathing deeply from her exertions, and it is only now that Jake appears through the doors, walking slowly as if in a daze. The newspaper is still in his hands. Hilary glances down at it. Murdering bitch was the accusation the woman had thrown.

‘I’m taking Matthew,’ Jenna states, wrenching her wrist free from Hilary’s grasp, but before she leaves, she takes a step towards Leah, points a finger at her and hisses: ‘You are never to come anywhere near my son again – do you understand me?’

Leah lets out a sound like a whimper, but it’s response enough for Jenna, who turns on her heel. From inside the flat, they can hear her barking orders at Matthew to gather up his things, quickly. Jake stares down at Leah, a stunned expression on his face. He makes no attempt to help her up. The front door bangs shut and silence surrounds them.

‘Is this true?’ Jake asks quietly.

Leah is still crouched, but she pushes back her hair, and Hilary can see her face streaked with tears, an angry red mark on her cheek and across her mouth from the blow she’d received. Her eyes, turned to Jake, are round with fear.

‘Is this true?’ he asks again. ‘That baby’s death. Were you, in some way, involved?’

The hard thing that is lodged in Hilary’s chest seems to collapse, leaking a cold liquid that spreads through her insides.

Leah’s small teeth are biting her lower lip, a flash of panic in her face, and then she nods quickly.

Hilary gasps, she cannot help it. Surely that cannot be true.

‘Let me see that,’ she says, reaching for the newspaper in Jake’s hand but he snatches it away before she can take it.

‘I think you’d better leave, Hilary,’ he tells her, in a voice like ice.

She nods, and glances back at Leah. There is something forlorn and defenceless about her that makes Hilary take a step towards her, but Jake is adamant.

‘Now, please,’ he says, raising his voice, and she can hear the crack in it. The sharp warning.