‘No, I can’t,’ Oliver said, stamping his foot. ‘Why do I always have to do everything?’

‘Why don’t you both go through and see how quickly you can do it?’ I said. ‘But not too quickly. I’ll give you a prize if you take exactly five minutes.’

‘What prize?’ Sophie said.

‘He means a hug,’ Oliver said.

‘Oh, that’s a lovely prize,’ Sarah said. ‘I could do with one of those.’

Sophie leapt from the bed, shoved Oliver in the back as they were leaving the room.

I leant in for a hug, stopped.

‘Please don’t freak,’ Sarah said, pulling the shower cap to the side. She’d fallen, by the looks of it, into someone’s hand: a purple thumb print on the left, four swollen stripes on the right.

‘What the fuck, Sarah?’

Plates crashing in the kitchen.

She took my hand, squeezed. ‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘Really. It looks worse than it is. I just needed to tell the kids something.’ Her raised eyebrows, a smile. ‘I popped round to Jack’s this afternoon, before going to the school.’

‘He did this to you?’

‘It’s not what you’re thinking.’

My nostrils were flaring. What was I thinking? What was Sarah thinking? What the fuck was Jack the Dom thinking?

She said, ‘It’s called breath control.’

Ommm … ‘What? Like meditation?’

Her hand on my arm, my arm shaking. ‘It was consensual, Chris. I’m fine. Really. I said my safe word, and he stopped right away. He’s a puppy. You know, he used to dance semi-professionally.’ She didn’t look sad. If anything, she looked –

‘What’s your safe word?’

‘No way, hun. You’ll laugh at me.’

I stared at her, not laughing.

‘“Chris”,’ she said. ‘My safe word’s “Chris”.’

She smiled, I looked away. Was this OK? Was everything –?

Footsteps in the hallway. Sarah dragged the shower cap back over her neck, winked.

‘Is pear and banana OK?’ Oliver said. ‘Sophie dropped the apple on the floor.’

‘Oh, wow, look at that.’ Sarah sat up against the wall, clutching the cap to her neck. ‘It’s perfect, darling.’

‘Here’s your water, Mummy,’ Sophie said, walking, spilling.

‘Thank you, darling. Isn’t Mummy blessed, having a family as thoughtful and caring as you.’

* * *

7.05 pm. I drummed my knees on the sofa, reached for my phone.

Biddy: Any word from old mate yet?

Oliver and Sophie were clambering over each other on the living-room floor in mismatched pyjamas. ‘Hey,’ I said, ‘calm down.’

I texted: Nothing. Checkmate :)

‘Help me, Daddy,’ Oliver shouted. ‘She’s choking me, I’m dying.’

‘That’s enough,’ I said. ‘Come on, Sophie, leave Olly alone.’

She rolled from his chest, raised her fist at him, laughed.

‘Hey, enough,’ I said. ‘Mummy’s resting.’

‘Dadda …’ Oliver was on his back, cheeks flushed. ‘Would you rather be –?’

Dingding. ‘Oh, hang on, mate.’