We exchanged brief polite remarks. Suzy always speaks to me as if I am deaf or mentally defective. I suppose it is because of the great difference in our ages, although she doesn’t talk to Tony that way despite the fact that he is even older than I am.

‘You want to speak to him?’

‘Yes, please, if he’s there. Thanks. Bye for now.’

He came on the line, his voice sounding exhausted and at the same time utterly familiar. ‘Hello, Sade. Everything okay?’

I see Tony only rarely but I still feel that I know him better than anyone else. Even when I was leaving him for Stanley I still loved him in that well-rubbed, unsurprised and faintly exasperated way of long-standing couples and after Stanley left me I continued to feel exactly the same. It was as if the breathless, lurid and ultimately heartbreaking business of falling desperately in love had come and gone without in the least affecting my regard for my husband. It wasn’t as brother-and-sisterly as it sounds, either, because we had always enjoyed ordinary but perfectly satisfying sex. (Better sex, in fact, than Stanley and I had shared, once the first terrible amazement had worn off.) There was deep affection based on history and mutual regard and shared interest, and this, I suppose, is what most married love comes to in the end. I knew that I had hurt Tony very badly and I regretted it. And there are still some mornings when I wake up and am surprised all over again to find that he isn’t lying beside me.

‘I’m worried about Jack,’ I said.

‘Sadie, you’re always worried about Jack.’

‘Am I?’ I never thought he was going to fall downstairs or choke or cut himself, the way I feared Cassie might.

‘What’s happened, anyway?’

I told him.

‘Yeah, okay. That’s legitimate worry.’

I felt a rush of relief at being able to talk to him. ‘What shall we do?’

I could hear one of the little girls crying in the background and Suzy calling out, and then a crash that sounded like a large piece of furniture falling over.

Tony sighed. ‘I’ll talk to him. Is he coming to us this weekend?’

‘If he wants to. Does that suit you and Suzy?’

‘I’ll check with her.’ We always made our arrangements in this polite, considerate way. It was Tony’s nature to be thoughtful and I did my best to be so because I was the one who had caused all this dislocation. He hesitated and then asked, ‘Do you think it’s anything to do with your dad dying?’

‘Yes, partly.’ It also had to do with other, longer-standing problems in Jack’s life, mostly connected to me. In the pause while we both listened to the mayhem that was going on at the other end, I endured the familiar twist of guilt and regret at having left my husband.