Beth rolls from her side onto her back and lifts her hand to brush Simon’s side of the bed. She’s also not surprised that he’s gone. He will have got up for one of the girls, or the dog, whichever dependent was the first to demand some attention, leaving Beth to sleep because he will have wanted to feel like he’s helping. He’ll be sat in the kitchen now, she imagines, with a coffee and his laptop, the girls munching on Cheerios by his side. He always checks his email first – in case one of the partners at his investment bank has summoned him – but this morning she guesses that he’ll move swiftly on to the mission that consumed his evening yesterday: getting Mark arrested, or at least under a restraining order, and away from their family.

Beth pushes back the duvet and stretches her lean frame against the mattress. She likes that it’s sunny. Yesterday was such a terrible day – seeing her father so ill, letting Ava down, finding her private things tampered with, disappointing Simon – that she didn’t think she could survive it. In that split second when she fainted, she wished it was something more permanent. But by the time she came round, with both Simon and Kat peering over her, wide-eyed with worry, she’d started to feel better. Like she’d been put to the ultimate test, and had made it through, and now a prize was due. The prize of something good happening for once, she prays.

She usually showers before bed, but she’d been too exhausted last night, so the urge is strong now. As she walks through her dressing room on the way to their en suite, she notices that her wardrobe door is shut now; Simon must have noticed and closed it. She shudders at the memory of finding it askew when she got home yesterday, then sets her jaw and looks away. She has never seen Simon as angry as he was yesterday afternoon, and he continued to blaze when no one from the police called him back. She knows he won’t rest until Mark’s under investigation – involving Ava was a red line for him – and of course Beth will support him (she’ll have to now). But she won’t mention the possibility that Mark might have broken in. She will not have the police’s grubby hands looking through her things.

With the pleasure of underfloor-heated stone tiles beneath her feet, Beth leans over and turns the shower on, its powerful jets instantly creating a cloud of steam. She’s slept well, the sun is shining, the children are safe, and Simon is back to take care of her. Today will be a good day, she promises herself. Then she twists the heating dial another couple of degrees, slips out of her pyjamas and steps inside.