I led Sophie by the hand from the kitchen to the bathroom, watched her brush her teeth, wiped her face with a warm cloth, took her back to the kitchen to say goodnight to Sarah and Biddy, carried her to her room, lay her on the bed next to Oliver, knelt in front of her, smiled.

‘I love you, Daddy,’ she whispered.

‘I love you too, sweetheart,’ I whispered, stroking her hair. ‘You and Olly are …’

My head suddenly down, looking away. What was …

‘Are you crying, Daddy?’

‘I think so,’ I said. ‘I don’t know. It’s been so long since I cried.’

She stroked my head. ‘Are you sad?’

‘I think so. I just love you so much, you and Olly. I’m scared I’m doing everything wrong. I don’t want anything or anyone to ever hurt you.’

Oliver grumbled in his sleep, turned towards the wall, his legs poking out from the bedsheets.

The tears, now they were …

Sophie patted my head, whispered, ‘I’ll look after you, Daddy.’

I blew her kisses as I was backing out of the room, went to the bathroom, washed my face.

Sarah and Biddy were sitting at the kitchen table playing five hundred. Biddy had explained the rules, but card games weren’t my forte. My forte was fucking everyone’s lives up, mostly.

I ran some tap water, filled a glass, downed it, stood at the sink.

‘So, yeah, you probably left yourself a bit vulnerable,’ Biddy said, dishing cards with a flurry of fingers. ‘Shall I deal you in, Chris?’

‘Nah, I’m good. I’ll watch from here.’

My eyes glazed, I blinked, kept blinking. It was getting better.

‘You need to look after your hearts,’ Biddy said.

‘I thought it was diamonds.’ Sarah laughed.

My fucking eyes, what was wrong with me? It was quarter to midnight, and when we said Happy New Year I’d have to kiss and hug someone first, which meant I’d have to kiss and hug someone second. Sarah should be first, given she was my wife, the mother of my children, a liar. Biddy should be first, given she was my life, my love. I could grab them both by the scruff of the neck, pull them towards me, kiss them both, somehow, at the same time.

At five to, I tiptoed through the hallway to the bathroom, pissed on the toilet seat – fuck, even my cock wasn’t working – wiped it down, washed my hands, tiptoed back to the kitchen, closed the door carefully, got the bubbly Sarah had bought from the fridge.

* * *