‘Maybe they just want to pay their respects,’ I said softly. ‘None of us have been prepared to deal with any of this.’

He nodded, hugged me and walked off, a dejected figure, heading back to his car as I stood and watched him while a couple carrying another bunch of supermarket flowers walked towards me. Ronan was right, I thought, looking at the flowers on the dusty ground. Clare wasn’t here. She should never have been reduced to this.

I crouched down to read the cards on the flowers. They were full of the usual trite phrases of condolence. There was a plain white card tucked into the ribbon around the forget-me-nots, wrapped in cellophane. I picked it up and read the words written in black ink:

Every action has consequences. Every inaction, too.

I blinked at it, confused. It gave me the creeps. I shuddered just as Ronan had done. What was it supposed to mean?

I heard a cough from the couple who were behind me, fought the urge to tell them to back off and give me space. Was I getting in the way of their rubbernecking? I stood up, wiped the tears from my eyes and walked back to my car, not so much as acknowledging them as I left, just letting the words I’d read play over and over in my head.

Taking a deep breath to settle myself, I picked up my phone and googled the phrase, trying to find some context. It seemed to be a bastardised version of a quote from the philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, but it still didn’t seem to make any sense when it came to Clare.

I pinched the bridge of my nose to fend off a headache. Then noticed a missed call was logged on my phone. I half expected it to be Paul, calling to ask when I’d be back. My stomach lurched when I saw it was from Michael and that he’d left a voicemail. My hands shaking, I put the phone to my ear and listened.

‘Rachel, I’m so sorry. I’ve had all sorts of problems. Please call me back as soon as you can. I need to know you’re not angry at me.’

This was the moment in which I could choose where I went from that point, if I’d do everything I’d promised myself just the night before, where I’d focus on my marriage and my family. I could ignore his call. He’d understand, eventually. It was in my power. But those promises had been made before I’d seen the scratches on Paul’s arm. That changed everything. And hearing Michael’s voice just confirmed that.

I called his number and he picked up within two rings. He didn’t give me the chance to speak before he started talking, his words falling over each other.