‘I’ve just had a better idea. Let’s get some tea – the books can wait.’

The café is packed – it’s that time of day when energy runs low; people need a pick-up, something sweet in their mouths. They are jammed against three women eating macaroons and some kids from the junior school stuffing in crumpets; questions about the knife will have to wait till they are back in the car after all. Grace orders tea with crumpets and chocolate cake. They’ll chat instead, as she’s wanted to do for weeks.

‘So how’s things in big school, in general, I mean?’

He shrugs.

‘Mr Richards seems okay.’

He glances at her then away.

‘What about the other teachers – who’s the nicest?’

He shrugs again. The crumpets and cake arrive with the teapot and she pours them both tea. Blake eats his crumpet fast and then another, then the chocolate cake; he seems to relax.

‘So what’s it like, pruning trees?’

‘It’s all right.’

‘Eric really values your help; you know that, don’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ He sounds casual but his face flushes pink.

‘I thought we might go somewhere this weekend, find a wood maybe. A family outing, what d’you reckon?’

‘Okay.’ He sits up. ‘Dad too?’

She glances out of the window; a couple walk by, arms entwined, each with a hand on the pram, smiling at the unseen child. She shouldn’t have used that word, family. Blake thinks she and Martin are together but it’s hard enough to be polite to Martin; an outing with him would be impossible.

‘He’ll be busy,’ she says, still looking through the window. ‘You know, tutorials.’ She glances back. Blake is staring at her; his expression contains contempt and something worse, like pity. She was wrong; he doesn’t think they’re together; he knows what’s happened and probably why. Izzy must have filled him in.

‘We should get back.’ She stands up, jolting the table. Her teacup tips over and the dregs spill, a dark stain spreading quickly on the white cloth. She pays at the till then they drive to Eve’s road in silence. She parks a short distance from the entrance to Eve’s drive.

‘Now we’re on our own, we need to talk properly about what the teacher didn’t find,’ she begins, ‘because I know there’s something you aren’t telling me.’

Beside her, Blake has become completely still. Only his fist moves, opening and closing, opening and closing.

12. November

Melissa