Melissa steers the car carefully into their drive and switches off the ignition. She leans back, exhausted. The drive back from Salisbury took longer than the journey there and now it’s early afternoon. Paul will be safely at work, albeit fuming about the temporary absence of his car. She must find clothes for herself and some for Izzy, assemble the material for the Wiltshire project, phone an estate agent to arrange viewings of available flats to rent and then leave by taxi to pick Izzy up from Eve’s house, all before he comes home. She doesn’t even want to get out of the car. If it hadn’t been for Izzy, it would have been hard to leave the refuge this morning. It had felt safe, far safer than the home she is about to enter.

The heat had bellied out as the door had opened. They’d felt the warmth on their cold faces. They’d stepped inside, squeezing past pushchairs crammed in the narrow lobby. A teddy lay on the bottom step of the stairs. Faint strains of music floated down from higher in the house and the smell of toast came up the hall to meet them.

The woman who let them in was in her thirties with a thick plait of brown hair over her shoulder; her arms were looped around a pile of clothes. She looked tired though her smile was wide.

‘I’m Karen,’ she introduced herself, dumping the clothes on the hall table; the flicker of concern in her eyes was quickly masked. ‘Come and have some coffee, you must be tired after your journey.’