When he’s made her the coffee, he retreats around the counter and hitches his buttock onto the white stool. He’s put on weight, she notices, seeing a bulge beneath his white shirt at the waistband of his jeans. In fact, those are his baggier jeans. He’s usually so put together and slick, but he reminds her of a teddy bear that’s losing its stuffing.

‘What have you got there?’ she asks, out of curiosity. He usually works in the study. It’s unlike him to bring papers through to the kitchen.

‘Oh, these, well, um, you know … stuff to do with Fairfax.’

His eyes dart towards hers then off to the side. His shifty look.

What’s he been up to? Trent has always insisted that once the Fairfax building contract came good, he’d re-fill the accounts and buy back the shares.

‘The contract’s through, right?’

He rubs a spot on the counter top and winces. ‘No, it’s all gone rather tits up.’

‘What do you mean, tits up?’

‘Just …’ He shrugs and she suddenly understands the magnitude of what he’s saying.

‘How long have you known? That it wasn’t coming good?’ she asks.

‘A while.’

‘And you haven’t said anything?’

‘I would have if you hadn’t have stormed out.’

He says ‘stormed out’ as if she’s flounced out on an unjustifiable whim and she remembers Tor talking bitterly yesterday about how her mother accused her of ‘stalking’ out of her twin sister’s lunch. Perhaps that’s why she likes Tor. Because she sticks up for what she believes in too and doesn’t put up with other people’s bullshit.

She glares at him. She’s not going to let him blame her. ‘What’s happened?’

He sighs and she sees he’s defeated. ‘I, well, the thing is, Maddy …’

She feels her throat go dry at his tone and the way he says her name. He twists his lips and then his voice catches as he starts to speak. She puts her coffee cup on the side.

‘I’ve tried, you’ve got to believe me, I’ve really tried, but … well, there’s no easy way to tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’

He shrinks, closing his eyes, as if he’s expecting a bomb to go off. ‘The house is going to have to go. I’ve got to repay the loan. It’s the only way.’

There’s a moment of silence, but it resonates like the aftermath of a bell being struck.

‘Go?’ Maddy asks, not quite understanding.

‘I put some … there was some legal clauses in the loan I took out and I used the house as collateral—’

‘You said that it was nothing. Just a formality. That there was no risk,’ she reminds him, her mind laser sharp now as she remembers him cajoling her into signing some papers two years ago, over a candlelit dinner. ‘You said …?’ She walks away, her palm on her forehead. She feels dizzy at the bombshell he’s just dropped. ‘Jesus!’

‘Maybe sit down—’

‘I don’t want to sit down,’ she screams at him. ‘You’ve fucking lost our house?’ She wants to throw something at him. She wants to hurt him. ‘After everything …’ The tears of outrage spring now and choke her.