Afterwards he was so quiet I thought he must regret it. I could only hear our breathing and the tick of the kitchen clock, the hum of the fridge. And my heart racing.

I took his hand and we went upstairs and we fell asleep together. And then when we woke in the early hours we moved quieter this time and afterwards I found I was crying silent tears.

Because I knew this was wrong, but how could it be when it was absolutely right too?

Chapter Eleven

In the morning I woke early and alone, before the splinter of light around the curtains appeared. I felt tired and bruised, and I couldn’t immediately think what was wrong.

It was too quiet: there were no children in the house. The rare peace unnerved me. Eventually I gave up trying to doze and went downstairs to make tea. I sat at the kitchen counter to drink it, and the Glock was gone – and so was Danny. I looked out at the light that sliced the grey morning sky and knew I should try James again. But his voicemail was still on, so I rang the Rex Hotel in Saigon.

‘One moment please,’ the singsong voice said. As I waited, I caught my reflection in the window. My eyes were swollen and there were bruises on my arm beneath my T-shirt sleeve. Fingermarks. I turned away as she came back on the line. The memory of Danny’s skin on mine – but perhaps it had not been real.

‘I am sorry. Mr Miller has not checked in yet.’

‘Are you sure?’ I was confused. He must have arrived last night. ‘James Miller, from England?’

‘I will check again. Excuse me one moment.’ An electronic Vivaldi’s Four Seasons chirped down the line; I wasn’t sure which one exactly. Autumn, perhaps. ‘No, madam. He has a reservation for one week but he is not arrived yet. I am sorry for your trouble, madam. Would you like to leave a message for James Miller when he does arrive?’

‘Yes. No.’ My mind was racing. ‘Could you just say Rose – Mrs Miller – rang. His wife. And you’re quite sure he didn’t change his reservation?’

‘Quite sure, madam. He was expected yesterday.’ A crackle of static. ‘Perhaps his flight was delayed.’

‘Perhaps.’ Perhaps the plane had crashed. No, that was ridiculous. I’d have heard something by now.

‘We will hold his room for forty-eight hours – or until we hear from him. I will pass on your message when he arrives.’

The newspaper dropped through the letterbox as I hung up. James must have decided to stay somewhere else, though he was a creature of habit; we’d stayed at the Rex on our honeymoon and so naturally, he’d chosen it again. I tried Liam but it was too early: he’d still be in bed. Then I rang Xav and left him a message.