‘I can’t wait.’

‘Nor me. Although . . .’ Her face turns serious and she nods, deciding something.

‘What?’

‘Now that you’ve been honest with me, I need to do the same. Tell you some stuff before we get more involved. It’s about time.’

And before I can ask what she means, she’s walking back towards her family.

The afternoon drags. The kids are getting fractious and I’m struggling with being so close to Gemma but not being allowed to touch her. I’d like to leave now, but apparently we have to wait for Gemma’s sister to give me the once-over.

I’m building a sandcastle with Felix, even though he lost interest some time ago, when Mel starts waving.

‘Here comes Mummy!’

Laura is striding towards us: taller and stronger than her sister, like a Hall of Mirrors version of Gemma. Her hair is dead straight, and her posture straighter still. It unsettles me, seeing a stranger who looks just like the woman I love.

Love? No, I don’t love Gemma. Do I?

Felix runs towards his mum, and she scoops him up as they both laugh with delight. But now she’s staring back at me and her smile drops.

‘So you’re the mystery man,’ she says, holding out the hand that isn’t supporting her son’s chunky body.

The force of her handshake tells me she means business. A chill goes through me.

‘I’ve heard a lot about you too. I’m Dan.’

‘Go easy on him, Laura,’ Gemma says, laughing.

One moment all I can hear is weekend voices, and the next moment the squealing tone of my tinnitus kicks in. An alarm going off, telling me something is wrong.

Laura’s greeting the rest of her family now, and Casey steps shyly forward to meet her. I can’t explain why I have this urge to snatch my daughter away.

‘Where are you living while you’re staying down here?’ Laura asks Casey.

‘On the Harbourside. It’s amazing.’

Laura nods. ‘It is. I work really close by, at the police station.’

‘Wow, are you an actual cop?’

When Laura nods, it all makes horrible sense.

The buzzing in my head’s like being ambushed by a swarm of wasps as my daughter asks how many people she arrests on an average day, and Laura tells her that most of what she does is about keeping people safe, and she’s glad, because chasing people is a bit of a nuisance in a heatwave, but luckily most criminals are even slower at running than she is.

I want to run so badly.

Except I’ve done nothing illegal. Not this time. But I feel so guilty, just like I always did when Dad and I saw a police car or a glimpse of a dark-blue uniform. Never hang around any longer than you need to, when the filth are lurking, he said. They’ll always find an excuse to feel your collar.

Laura looks up at me and her eyes are questioning: I flinch, then turn away. She can’t have guessed.