Afterwards, he had put his phone down and looked at her uneasily. ‘He claims the guy is innocent. Says it was a wrongful conviction. That the real culprit was an intruder who was never caught.’

‘Do you believe that?’

Jake had shrugged. ‘He was convicted, wasn’t he? They must have had something on him. But one thing I do know for sure,’ and he had looked out of their bedroom window to the park, where two more tents had joined the first, the ranks of the homeless building in front of them. ‘We can’t do anything about it. It’s not like we can afford to move out. Not in this city.’

They had left it. And since that phone-call, they haven’t spoken about Anton. But she’s noticed that neither of them goes into the garden now. Their laundry hangs to dry on clothes racks in their bedroom. And whenever there is movement upstairs, the creak of a floorboard, a dry cough, the spill of coins on to the floor, she sees the tension in Jake’s face, the tightening of his jaw.

He brings his son through into the flat now.

‘Why can’t I?’ Matthew demands.

‘I’ve told you already. It’s not our garden.’

The boy flops on to the couch, sweat making his hair stick to his brow, his arms folded tightly over his chest.

‘You can play your Nintendo.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Fine. Then sit there and sulk.’

Jake’s phone beeps, and he seizes it from the counter, reads the screen, still tense from their exchange. Leah goes to the fridge, pours a glass of juice for Matthew, who accepts it from her, mumbling a moody ‘Thanks.’

‘I have to go,’ Jake tells her.

‘What?’

He mentions the courier company, says some jobs have come up while he hunts around for his bag and helmet. She follows him into the hallway.

‘But it’s Saturday afternoon.’

‘Well, shit, Leah,’ he snaps. ‘We need the money, don’t we?’

Hurt rises in her chest. Cut by his words, she feels unnerved by a niggling doubt. ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen, you know,’ she tells him.

He clips on his helmet. ‘I know.’

‘You are happy about the baby, aren’t you?’ she asks.

His eyes fly across her face. Then he goes to her, instantly remorseful, and puts his arms around her. ‘Of course I’m happy about the baby,’ he murmurs. ‘Don’t ever think otherwise.’

She stays in his arms for a moment, trying to believe him.

He draws back and looks into her eyes, strokes her face lightly with his fingertips. ‘We’ll find a way to make all of this work,’ he tells her. ‘I promise.’