Another pair of Josh’s undies, green and blue stripes. And tangled in with them, in the crotch, Josh’s prescription for Celexa. In the bag, too, a photocopied letter from Josh’s doctor, detailing his medical history and current course of treatment.

Josh dropped the photocopy on the floor, backed away, sat on the bedframe, pulled off his rubber glove, held his head. ‘This is too much for me. Keep going through all this shit if you want but I can’t, not now. I’m going to bed.’ He stood. I hugged him, squeezed as hard as I could, loved him, sat on the bedframe …

The toilet flushed, his bedroom door closed. I got onto my knees, tipped the boxes, untangled clothes, nearly retching, searched inside stale sleeves, putrid pants, squalid socks.

In one jacket pocket, a court envelope addressed to Mr Zac Batista with no letter inside.

In the pocket of his black jeans, a scrunched-up page from the notebook, dated nine days earlier: They’re NOT YOUR KIDS, CHRIS, THEY’RE MINE.

I could text Sarah, text Biddy, text –

I kept going, heart racing – I’d end him, bash his face in – found another ball of paper from the notebook, in the inside pocket of his work blazer. I unscrunched it – two pages, no date – sat on the bedframe.

I’d written … It was mine, my handwriting. That’s how it looked, as difficult to read as mine. But I hadn’t written it. Had I written it?

Sarah, I’m so sorry to write this note, and if you’re reading it … well …

I had to do this and, knowing me and my squeamishness, you’ll understand the manner in which I did it.

With luck, all going to plan, you’ve arrived home without the kids to find me sleeping, my eyes shut, my mouth closed, tucked up in bed. As if, perhaps, with you away for the weekend, I’ve taken a few too many drugs, fallen into too deep a sleep, and simply not woken again. A death from misadventure, pure and simple.

I’ve loved you, Sarah. More than you probably know. But I’ve been living in pain. You’ll remember I promised never to do anything to hurt myself, if I could avoid it. Well …

I’ve caused so much needless damage. To you, first and foremost. But also to Biddy, who I’ve loved. And, most of all, to Oliver and Sophie.

They are my everything, Sarah. It breaks my heart to leave them now. Please tell them I’m proud of them, that I love them, that they’re the best things that ever happened to me.

The only comfort I take is that you – all of you – have a friend in Zac, and a friend in Biddy, who I know will continue to love you and protect our precious family long after I’m gone.