Mark parked on the driveway and we went inside, and everything was just as we’d left it that morning.

I made tea and sat in the sitting room to drink it, and Mark went off to his office to catch up on emails and Daisy lay down on the sofa and fell asleep in the sunlight. She always seemed to be tired out after spending time in the hospital. I sympathised; I was exhausted, too.

Nothing had changed, really, had it? She was the same little girl, after all.

I thought about ringing Mum to tell her, but decided against it. It would keep. And she’d been funny with me lately, ever since I’d been rude to her on the phone. Problem was, if she said the wrong thing, I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t be rude to her again.

Instead I sat and drank my tea and gazed at the sunlight on the wall and allowed myself to think of nothing. I left all the reports on the side; I couldn’t even summon up the energy to file them. It was as if I’d been emptied out of everything that had once made me who I was.

I was vaguely conscious of Mark moving round upstairs, of a few thuds as if he was moving something heavy, and of the bedroom floorboards creaking as he paced about. What on earth was he doing? Spring cleaning? Building a bonfire in readiness to torch the place? Sitting next to him in the diagnosis meeting, I’d almost been sorry for him. He’d looked so forlorn. But I knew that he felt absolutely no sympathy for me.

He blamed me. Still. Even though he must have realised it wasn’t rational, or fair. And I couldn’t accept the blame. It would have killed me. So where could we go from there?

After what seemed like a long time he came heavily downstairs into the hallway, and I hurried out to catch him before he could slip out of the front door.

He had a suitcase with him. Not the overnight case. The big one.

I said, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

He said, ‘I’m going to stay with my mother for a couple of days.’

‘You mean, after everything that happened today, you’re going to run away?’

‘Nothing happened today. Nothing that hadn’t already happened a long time ago. We both knew what they were going to say.’

‘So why are you going now?’

‘Because I can’t do this any more.’

‘What do you mean, you can’t do this?’

‘I want a family, Paula. A normal family life, like everybody else has. And this isn’t it, and it never will be. Daisy’s never going to graduate, or get a job, and as for getting married and having children… Forget it. She’s probably never even going to be able to leave home. I should be able to look forward to walking my daughter down the aisle one day. Instead I think about the future and it fills me with despair.’