‘I’ll help myself,’ Eric tells her.

She watches his face trying to see if he is angry or upset; he seems preoccupied – what does he know? He looks up and meets her gaze calmly; she lowers her eyes, feeling helpless.

‘Homework,’ Poppy mumbles and slips from her place, leaving the room without helping to clear the table as she used to do. Eric picks up Ash and puts him on his shoulders. ‘Bedtime,’ he announces as he walks across the kitchen, calling for Sorrel to follow. No, his voice is too cheerful, he’d sound different if he was harbouring her ring, suspecting her of having an affair; all the same her stomach churns with worry. Alone in the kitchen she texts Martin. Have you seen my ring?

Sorry, the answer pings back. On the floor somewhere?

As she clears the table, Poppy’s angry shouts filter down; Sorrel begins to cry. The girls, quarrelling again. They have been on edge since Greece. Poppy is better behaved when her friends are around. Eve runs water into the empty casserole. Sunday seems a long way off; the week could be broken up. She removes the last dishes from the table; in the end no one ate very much. She could offer a short session tomorrow, supervising homework, maybe a word game if there was time. Supper as well. It can be a regular event every Wednesday from now on; she won’t charge. Melly can come for supper this first time, Martin too. She blows out the candles. She’ll find a quiet moment to tell him their affair is over; it will end on a civilized note, an event to look back on. She texts the offer to Izzy, Melly and Martin, and feels better. She’ll find her ring, of course she will. She can turn out their room in the morning after Eric has left for work, move the bed and the chests of drawers, turn back the carpet, look under the radiator. If it’s not there, she’ll search the house. It’s bound to turn up, it has to; a ring like that doesn’t vanish into thin air.

Melissa