I called Mel three times when I got home. Three times it went straight to voicemail. Finally I left a message.

‘Hi, it’s me. Give me a call when you get this? Just want to make sure you’re OK. Thought you might be . . .’ I hesitated. Might be what? ‘Call me back. Love you.’

Be OK. Please be OK. Everything else I can handle, one thing at a time.

The thing with Ben was ridiculous, I decided – I should just ring him. Get to the bottom of whatever was going on – if there even was anything going on.

Except I couldn’t call him, because all my contacts were in my mobile, and that was lost. The landline was useless – we hardly ever used it, and there were only about a dozen numbers stored in its memory.

And so, perched on the bathroom stool, a bottle of beer cooling my hand, there was nothing else to do except go through the usual evening routine. William was in the bath, swirling the water round with both hands, his plastic boats and animals circling him like a tiny flotilla round and round. He was talking to me about school things and how his little buddy Jonah had wet himself during assembly, and I was fending him off with lots of Really? and Oh dear and Uh-huh. The long-neglected landline phone sat dark and silent on the windowsill next to me.

‘When’s Mummy coming back?’ he said, putting bubble bath on his chin to make a white beard.

‘What’s that?’

‘Mummy.’

‘She’ll be home soon.’

‘Look at my beard, Daddy. I’m Santa.’

‘Good one, matey. Got a present for me?’

‘It’s not a proper beard, it’s only bubbles really.’

The sound of keys in the front door made me jump. Mel called up in her usual way.

‘Mummy!’ William shouted back.

‘We’re up here,’ I added.

She appeared in the bathroom doorway and I hugged her, relief washing through me like a tide. I kissed her cheek, tasting the familiar salty sweat mingled with perfume.

‘Hey you,’ I breathed into her ear.

‘Hey yourself.’ She disentangled herself from the embrace. ‘Nice welcome. What’s that for?’

‘Thought you might need a hug.’

She smiled and kissed me, her lips soft against mine.

‘No more than usual.’ She studied me for a second, taking a drink from her water bottle. ‘Are you OK?’

‘It’s been a hell of an evening, but I’m all right.’

‘Why, what’s happened?’

‘It’s nothing,’ I said, trying to summon a smile. ‘Tell you later. I was actually worried about you.’

‘About me?’

‘Yes, are you OK?’

‘Of course, why wouldn’t I be?’

‘I saw you earlier and you seemed –’

‘Mummy! Mummy!’

‘What is it?’ she said.

‘Look, Mummy, I’ve got a beard!’

‘Nice, William.’ She drank the last of her water and began refilling the bottle from the tap.

‘And I had ants-ma and me and Daddy had to come home to get my puff-puff.’