She caught his arm. “I’m sorry, Pete, I know how much I’ve hurt you, and I’m truly sorry. But it was just something that happened.”

“Just something?”

Peter walked to the front door. He felt helpless, inadequate, there was so much more to say but he didn’t know how to begin. The sweet smell of her in her dressing-gown, her softness, got in the way of his anger. It always had.

His hand was on the door, about to open it, when he turned back. “I want Joey, every other weekend. I’ll start paying maintenance as soon as my business is on its feet.”

Marianne nodded, but before she could say anything he had the door open. “Goodbye, then,” she said at last.

Peter didn’t reply. All the way down the neat gravel path, across the street to his truck, he couldn’t even think straight. How had it happened? One day, a wife he adored, a son he doted on, a secure business, a house—albeit with a mortgage . . . He had had so much, and now it was gone. Marianne had a bigger house, a new husband, another baby on the way, and all Peter had was a rented efficiency and a suitcase. Even his business was in bad shape. In fact, no matter how he viewed his life, he was on a downward spiral. He just couldn’t understand how it had happened that his best friend, a man he had been at school with, trusted and liked, had taken everything from him.

As he drove off, Marianne watched from an upstairs window. She felt wretched, part morning sickness and part guilt. She was genuinely sorry for him, sorry for leaving him, sorry for everything that had happened. He was such a kind, gentle man. She had never set out to fall in love with someone else, it was just one of those things. It upset her that he had believed the new baby was his, but she hadn’t lied.

She patted the curtains back into place and ran herself a bath. While she waited she started making out a list of groceries and Peter was forgotten.

Peter unpacked his belongings and went to a café for a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea. He arrived at work much later than usual and one of his chippies asked if everything was OK.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“How’s the Inspector?”

“That’s all in the past.”

“Can’t say I blame you. That one looked as if she’d nick you if you laid a finger on her!”

Peter laughed loudly, and the chippie pushed the day’s mail across the untidy desk. “Looks like a lot of bills to me, guv’nor. Be out back if you need me.”