‘Better start on that eulogy, Connor. Here, let me help. “Today we bury our sort-of beloved son Samuel, and let me say I am so thrilled that Deidre Moss has made the time to be here.” ’

‘For the last time, I’m not in love with Deidre fucking Moss!’

It occurred to me then that I wouldn’t care if Connor and Deidre were having an affair. I wouldn’t care if Connor was having an affair at all. It would have been like hearing that your teddy bear held parties while you were out.

Connor exhaled heavily. ‘Why do you have to see the worst in everything? Why can’t you accept that it might have been totally innocent?’

‘Don’t be so naive.’

‘She’s a child.’ He stopped, preparing himself for one of his rare bursts of courage. ‘Besides, can’t you let me handle this? Can’t you support me in anything? You’re supposed to be my wife!’

I laughed at this. I could see Roger coming back from lunch. We smiled and waved at one another, and as he passed, I caught the scent of something rich and beefy.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said. ‘If anything, you’re my wife.’

I hung up.

I called Blossomings and said yes, we would like to have a conference. They arranged for it to be held after hours in the office of the director, Ms Simon. We left Samuel in a supervised play area, where he took up two long yellow building bricks and sat driving them gently and pointlessly at one another.

Ms Simon – she pronounced it ‘Simone’ – was wearing what looked like a very deluxe poncho; some kind of violet cashmere. Her hair was in a pixie cut, her eyeshadow was a sheeny, pale-pink champagne, her blush apricot. She looked like the thick-waisted but winsome model who would appear in a magazine next to the words FABULOUS AT ANY AGE.

‘Mr Tomlinson, Dr Tomlinson, won’t you come in,’ she said, indicating two chairs upholstered in green felt. There was a salt lamp in the room.

‘Are you expelling her?’ I said. I saw no reason to put myself through niceties.

Ms Simon said, ‘Would you like a liquorice tea?’

‘I would like,’ I began, ‘for my son to graduate preschool without permanent spinal trauma.’

She smiled at Gaby, who was also in the room. ‘Some tea, Gaby? Thank you so much.’

When the door closed she sighed a long luxurious sigh. I wondered if she was counting to four.

‘Samuel is such a —’

There was a knock.

‘Such a?’ said Connor, his face hopeful. ‘Such a what?’

I shot him a look that he didn’t acknowledge. Ms Simon ignored him and called, ‘Yes?’

Deidre was wearing a sombre pinafore, charcoal with red buttons at the shoulders, and black boots that looked like part of a wetsuit. The restrained palette must have been her way of acknowledging the gravity of the situation.