‘He’d still be in charge of the building side, and I’d take care of the decorating.’

‘Sounds a lot,’ she said and took out three bowls from the cupboard.

‘It would be so good to be my own boss at last.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘I’m sure I can get him down to twenty, no problem.’

‘Let’s talk about it later.’

‘You know it’s what I’ve been after.’ He slipped his arm around her waist. ‘I’ll have more freedom, make more money.’

‘And you’ll be away more.’

‘Everything has its price.’ He pulled her closer. ‘It’ll be worth it, I promise.’ He detected the flicker of a smile in her eyes.

He plodded upstairs, lay down on the bed and shut his eyes. What would he do if she said no, especially now he’d promised Ali and Jamie the house? He couldn’t help imagining them in it: Ali gliding around barefoot on the new carpets, Jamie still in his pyjamas, lounging on the sofa watching TV. His eyes snapped open. But he would never leave Maddy. She’d given herself to him completely from the start, been open about everything. He scanned their wedding photo on the bedside table, and the miniatures of the girls when each of them was born. The thought of deserting them, abandoning his life here choked him up. He’d never tell Maddy about Ali and Jamie. She’d never forgive him; she’d kick him out, no question. But could he really pull this off? Keep them both happy? He buried his head under the pillow.

It was dark when he woke. The smell of burning wood filled the room. Shivering, he stepped out of bed and shut the window.

Downstairs he drifted into the living room. Through the French windows, he watched the bonfire dance and rage. Maddy and the girls held up a gangly-looking Guy. Max banged his fists on the glass, but they couldn’t hear him. He rushed outside.

‘I’ll do that, it’s dangerous.’ His words hung in a cloud of icy air. He grabbed the Guy by its crudely drawn face and stuffed torso. The frowning eyebrows he imagined resembled his own. The flames crackled and hissed, the heat meltingly hot.

‘These are my clothes,’ he shouted, trying to take a closer look under the orange glow, pulling at the Guy’s jumper and shirt.

‘Da-aad,’ Emily whined.

‘Old ones you don’t wear any more,’ Maddy shouted back.

‘Can’t I decide that?’ Yes, they had holes in, but they were his favourite T-shirt and jeans from years ago. And the jumper was one his gran had knitted for him.

Chloe started to cry.

‘You’re being ridiculous, Max,’ Maddy shouted.

‘You should have asked me. They’re my things. They mean a lot to me. Didn’t you think to ask?’