‘He didn’t take his phone actually,’ she interrupted.

‘How do you know?’ I said tiredly, flopping on the sofa to take my shoes off. Guilt and anxiety and twenty questions were on the verge of making me tetchy.

‘Because it’s here.’ She held the small black phone up triumphantly. My heart flip-flopped.

‘Oh,’ I hedged. ‘He must have just forgotten it. Silly Daddy. Come here, baby.’ I grabbed her. ‘Come and give your mummy a cuddle.’

I buried my face in my daughter’s slippery hair, savouring the warmth of her bony frame. The truth was, I was frightened. I had no idea how I was going to keep their world from collapsing completely – but I knew I had to keep trying.

‘What would you be achieving, trying to find out more about this girl?’ Jen asked, licking the last of the curry from her fingers. ‘So he slept with a dancer. I mean, it’s depressing, but are you really that surprised?’

I was shocked by her words. ‘Yes, I am actually.’

‘Oh.’ She went quiet. ‘Sorry.’

‘But you’re not.’ I took a sip of my wine, wrinkling my nose against the unwelcome acidity. ‘So what are you saying? That my husband’s an old philanderer?’ I tried to laugh but somehow I just couldn’t manage it.

‘No, of course not.’ Jen still looked uncomfortable. ‘But given his lifestyle, the temptations, well—’

‘I get the picture.’ I held a hand up. ‘Enough said.’

Perhaps I had been stupid, trusting and patient. The truth was I had been so immersed with the children in the past few years, there was little time for anything else. Infidelity hadn’t been one of my worries. For all his faults, it was drugs and drink that were James’s downfall, not women. But Liam’s harsh word was hard to erase.

‘Whore,’ went the whisper in my ears, over and over again until I wanted to plug them with my fingers like the children did.

I tossed and turned on Jen’s lumpy sofa-bed, my body exhausted but my mind racing. The noisy city kept me awake, a helicopter beating the air overhead over and again, the sirens, blaring car stereos. I imagined Danny – God only knew where he was now. I scribbled him out in my head. I turned the pillow over, looking for the cool side. I thought of James confined in his cell.

Suddenly I had a flash of inspiration and fumbled around in my overnight bag until I found James’s phone, switching it on. Of course it was dead. I scrabbled around for my charger and plugged it in.

Frantically I scrolled through the text messages. Nothing.

I searched for Katya’s name in the contacts. Nothing there either. I flung the phone back down in frustration.