He’d surprised himself by relishing it. He’d even enjoyed the first two weeks, where it seemed as though there was no end to his daughter’s needs, and no real guidance about how to satisfy them. He had still caught himself watching her with wonder, or grinning stupidly as she looked up at him, slightly cross-eyed.

That wasn’t to say that it was easy. Sharing a child with someone months after a messy break-up had built-in baggage, and the added serious sleep deprivation and sudden loss of freedom hadn’t helped. There had been moments of complete misunderstanding, and moments where it had all seemed impossible.

But those moments came less often as the months passed. And to be out here, today, with a child who was actually asleep, drinking like a normal human being, felt like a huge privilege. A blessing.

He was two-thirds down the glass before he knew it. The alcohol added its slightly fuzzy halo to everything, and he found himself smiling at a couple with two young toddlers as they walked over to the climbing frame.

His phone buzzed, and he lifted it to read a message:

Umm, I’m running about 20 mins behind. Fell asleep!! Sorry. Xx

It was a shame. He’d been looking forward to spending some proper time together. It so rarely happened in this new life of theirs.

But even that couldn’t dent his good mood. He messaged back a quick ‘No rush!’ and turned to watch the children charging around on the climbing frame. Their parents were right there with them, diving in to tickle them or help them down the slide.

He felt optimistic, for the first time in a while, that everything would work out all right. That he’d be messing around with Milly like that in a few years, side by side with his partner.

He was still watching them when a figure emerged through the trellised archway from the road. He glimpsed her at the edges of his vision, registering long hair of a brilliant red. Part of him picked up something else – that she looked grubby, maybe – and he turned to look.

Jonah realised that the grubbiness was blood. That her T-shirt was daubed in it; her hands covered in a coating of rust-red almost up to her elbows. For a moment, he wondered whether this was what sleep deprivation did to you. Whether it was blurring the boundaries between the innocence of his family life, and the terrible violence of his work. Whether this might be no more than a hallucination.

But then other diners started to turn, and a quiet began to wash over the garden. After a few instants, there was only the light buzz of music from inside the pub, and noises of effort from the two children as they kept climbing, oblivious.

The blood was real, he thought. And having understood, he tried to work out where it had come from.