‘You want me to have a used pram, covered in puke and God knows what?’

‘Obviously not like that, don’t be daft.’

‘Is there any cash left in the holiday jar?’

‘I had to borrow the last tenner for diesel,’ he said.

‘So how am I going to pay the plumber?’

‘Don’t you have any money?’ He looked at his roll cooling down; he liked it hot.

‘You know I’m overdrawn.’

‘Look, get him round to do the job and tell him you’ve only got a cheque.’

‘But it’ll bounce.’

‘He probably won’t pay it in until next Monday.’

‘So when will you be home?’

‘I don’t know yet. I’ll call you. Got to go.’ He clipped his mobile in the hands-free and started the engine. Moments later, it rang again while he waited at traffic lights on a major roundabout. He clicked the button on his steering wheel to answer it.

‘What now?’ he snapped. He couldn’t hear the voice at first, only sobbing which was faint and interrupted by silent breaks. He glanced at the number. Maddy. The lights were about to change.

‘I can’t hear you,’ he shouted, leaning down to the phone cradle.

‘Chloe’s dead,’ Maddy screamed, her voice almost unrecognisable. The lights turned amber, but Max froze. In slow motion the light dimmed and the green one shone. Chloe, his baby Chloe. She must be mistaken. Maddy was out of her mind. But her voice gabbled repeatedly, Chloe didn’t wake up this morning, she called her and shook her, but Chloe was dead.

He could hear Emily in the background now, wailing and screaming. The phone cut off.

He lay his head on the steering wheel, sounding the horn’s insistent drone until his whole body was vibrating. Someone tapped on the window, but Max didn’t respond. A policeman opened the van door and lifted Max off the wheel.

‘Sir, are you all right?’

Max couldn’t answer. His head lolled backwards as though he’d fallen a hundred feet through a glass floor.

‘Sir, can you hear me? Can I ask you to step out of the van, please?’

Max couldn’t feel his legs. He tried to move but collapsed at the policeman’s feet.

The policeman hauled him up and breathalysed him. The reading was clear.

‘Have you taken any drugs in the last 24 hours?’

Max shook his head. Tears fell from his eyes like fat drops of rain.

‘Why have you stopped here, sir?’

Max looked at the cars racing past. If he jumped now he’d catch the front of an articulated lorry.

‘Sir? Are you on any medication?’

‘You really want to know? Do you?’ he sobbed, pulling at his own hair.

‘You’re blocking the traffic, we need to get you moving.’