He launched into an attack, bombarding her with evidence. ‘You’re distant and distracted, you’re on your phone at odd times, like last night, at the table – the moment I left for the kitchen, it was in your hands. You lock the bathroom door, you spend hours in your office with the door shut tight, you take off for runs rather than spend time with me, you don’t look at me as often as you used to, you don’t seem to hear me, and if you do hear me, you don’t seem interested. Plus, you hardly smile, unless the girls are with us. I feel – like, really feel – this distance between us, like we’re on opposite sides of a chasm, and it’s as if it happened overnight, but it gets wider and wider and I can’t halt it, because I don’t understand it.’

He ceased, and there was a silence. Ali recognised this description of herself at once, but she didn’t recognise Michael, the Michael who’d studied her so closely, noticed these differences in her that she couldn’t deny. He hadn’t ever seemed particularly observant before, had never remarked upon her habits or rituals, but now she realised this was because he’d had no cause to. She hadn’t known she’d been so careless, so imprudent in her manner towards him these past few months. She’d forgotten how very well he knew her, forgotten that as she’d allowed herself to slip away from him, towards Dan, he might be watching, and wondering, and worrying. Now, she placed a hand on his arm and caressed it, because the instinct to comfort and reassure ran deep, even as she prepared to betray him.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m really sorry, Michael. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s writer’s blues. I know I’m retreating inside myself, but it’ll pass.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I knew you’d say that, but I reckon it’s something else.’ His voice was neutral, but she could see from his expression the effort it cost him to remain steady in the face of this unnamed, intangible threat. ‘In all our years of marriage, I’ve never had cause to doubt our future, but these past few weeks …’ He tailed off, shaking his head in confusion, but he kept his eyes on her face; his penetrating eyes that suddenly seemed to be searching for more than was visible. ‘Something’s changed, Ali, and it’s not me.’