Every other conversation in the pub had ceased; all eyes were on us. Phoebe and Sophie stared at Beth, open-mouthed.

Mel had shrunk back in her seat, trying to get as far away as possible. She looked terrified. William’s mouth was turned down and I knew he was about to cry.

Don’t swear in front of my boy.

I stood up, my chair scraping loudly in the silence. Adam stood up too. If Beth had been a man I would’ve asked her to step outside for what she’d just said about my wife. But as it was, I didn’t quite know how to respond.

‘Beth –’ I said.

‘Shut up!’ she snarled at me.

She jabbed a finger at Mel.

‘Tell me again what you told me yesterday.’ Her normally calm, quiet voice was high and brittle and horribly loud in the silent pub.

Mel looked blank.

‘What?’ she said in a small voice.

‘Tell me again! Tell me my husband isn’t the type to have an affair!’

‘He’s not . . . that kind of man.’

‘Really?’

‘What do you –?’

‘Then presumably you can explain these pictures.’ She picked up the mobile phone she’d slammed down on the table – a Samsung with a big screen – and hit the keypad. A picture appeared on the screen. She showed it to Mel and I peered round to see who or what it was. There was a lot of flesh. It looked like a topless picture of a woman. I peered closer.

It was a topless picture of my wife.

It looked like she was standing in our kitchen, taking a selfie. Leaning forward and giving a coy little smile to the camera, one arm under her breasts.

For a moment my brain struggled to process it. That’s my wife. But she’s naked. I’ve never seen that picture before. I had a cold, acid feeling in my stomach. Helplessness.

There will be an explanation for this. A reasonable explanation.

The pub manager, a skinny guy in his twenties, appeared behind Beth and tapped her on the shoulder. He looked terrified.

‘Excuse me, madam, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you –’

She turned on him.

‘Take your bloody hands off me!’

The manager recoiled as if he’d been punched.

Beth turned back to Mel.

‘Well?’ she said, her voice hard. ‘This is one of Ben’s phones. So explain why there’s a pornographic picture of you on it. Go on. Explain it.’

Mel put a hand over her mouth and looked like she was about to cry.

I said: ‘Let’s go outside, Beth. We don’t need to do this here.’

‘No, we should do this right here. Because this is not the only picture. Do you want to guess how many others there are on this phone?’

‘It’s not me,’ Mel said, her voice cracking.

‘Ha! You can’t lie your way out of this.’

Beth turned to me.

‘Joe. Why don’t you guess how many naked pictures of your wife there are on my husband’s phone?’