He had built a life for himself and found a purpose when he married Toni. Now he wondered what lay ahead for him. With his brain whirling around, Gerald got up from the dressing table and lay down on their marital bed. He lay on Toni’s side with his face buried into her pillow. It was warm from the sunlight pouring into the room, and he managed to convince himself, for just a second, that she had been lying there only moments before.

Tears came streaming down his face making the pillow wet, and he hugged his knees up to his chest as he let his emotions flow. Gerald was not a man used to crying, and the action itself caused additional upset.

When he could cry no more he lay on the bed staring at the wallpaper. It was pink and white with a small floral pattern. Toni had chosen it when she moved in. She said the place needed a woman’s touch, and Gerald had let her do as she pleased.

The couple had met via an online dating site when her marriage to Mike had fallen apart. Gerald remembered the first time he met her as if it were yesterday.

After a few weeks of emails, and talking on the phone, they had agreed to meet at the entrance to the Cambridge University Botanic Garden. Gerald had been very nervous, as his experience with women up until then had been limited. He wore a brand new shirt that he’d bought for the occasion from M&S, and even put on a splash of cologne. Balding, and in his early fifties, he was conscious that he might be a disappointment to Toni – even though they had exchanged pictures and seen one another’s profile online.

He had stood anxiously outside the gates to the garden, awaiting her arrival with fear and anticipation. Gerald always liked to be early, and was taken aback when she too arrived five minutes earlier than the time they had agreed. His hand was clammy as he’d awkwardly shaken hers; he thought she was beautiful. Her long, thick hair had glistened in the low light and her make-up was expertly applied.

As they had wandered slowly around the grounds, he was increasingly aware of her height. With her heels on, she was at least two inches taller than him, so he’d walked with his back straight, and his head held high, in an attempt to lessen the difference. On that warm, spring afternoon she’d worn the same perfume she always did. It was sickly-sweet, like vanilla and violets. Toni had worn a white dress that hugged her curves, a light blue cardigan, and wedge shoes.