The donkeys are bunched together under the trees; their long heads swing to watch every movement. Melissa and Sorrel walk around the outside of the paddock hand in hand. It occurs to Melissa she should be jogging; she hasn’t exercised since the accident. She slides a hand round her waist then feels guilty. How could her body matter against the grief that presses down on all of them?

‘Did they see it, do you think?’ Sorrel asks, looking at the donkeys.

Melissa follows her gaze, imagining those large animal eyes turned towards the stumbling child, absorbing the flung-out arm, the fair head disappearing beneath the clear cold water, watching impassively as the broken surface steadied itself again.

‘Maybe they did, darling; it might have been nice for Ash to know that the donkeys were there with him.’ A lie – he would have been terrified of the looming faces and sharp hooves; perhaps that’s why he fell.

Sorrel holds her hand more tightly. ‘He couldn’t breathe. He was trying to breathe but he couldn’t.’ She is crying in earnest, ‘He couldn’t …’ She starts hiccupping violently.

‘I know,’ Melissa kneels to take the little girl in her arms. ‘I know, sweetie. Shall we go back in now?’

Sorrel shakes her head. ‘I want to say goodbye to them.’

She lifts the child, surprised by her lightness. Sorrel waves at the donkeys, they stare back, and in the light of that calm gaze Melissa feels momentarily reprieved. At least Ash won’t have to bear anxiety or bullying, he will never face fear or violence, never feel anguish over a beloved child. They return to the kitchen where Eric is sitting, staring at the floor. Sorrel clambers on to his lap.

‘Time for a nap.’

Melissa jolts to see Izzy staring at Sorrel; she must have come in very quietly without making a sound.

‘Hurry up,’ Izzy says.

‘Being mother?’ Eric asks Izzy as Sorrel slips obediently from his lap; his voice sounds sharper than usual.

‘Someone has to,’ Izzy replies in a reasonable tone and taking Sorrel’s hand, she leads her out of the room. Melissa watches them go; at least Sorrel is being included now.

‘Eric, I’m sure Izzy didn’t mean—’

‘It’s okay, she’s right. A nap is a good idea, I’m exhausted. Maybe we should all have a little sleep.’

Five minutes later the house is quiet. Melissa sits on the sofa by the fire; as her eyelids drift together, she hears, or imagines, the quiet crunch of gravel outside, footsteps, arriving or leaving.

Grace