He took a deep breath. ‘Alice took Jo for her check-up yesterday.’

‘At the doctor’s?’ Martha’s smile faded. ‘Is she ill?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s nothing serious. It’s …’ he paused. Looking at Martha he could hardly believe she would have hurt Joanna – any child, any person – deliberately. She radiated calm and kindness. He always felt he was rushing to feed or dress or change Joanna; she always seemed to be moving at the perfect pace. She had the gift of infinite patience.

‘What is it?’ Martha said.

‘It’s her arm. There’s a bruise on it.’

Martha frowned. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. On her bicep. It’s on both sides, like a pinch mark. The doctor noticed it.’

‘The poor thing,’ Martha said. ‘How did it happen?’

‘We don’t know. Alice doesn’t remember anything that could have caused it, and I don’t, either.’

‘Could I look?’ Martha said.

‘Sure. Of course.’

Martha bent over Joanna and carefully lifted the blanket from her. She was wearing a short-sleeved onesie, and Martha examined her arm. The bruise was clearly visible on her pale skin.

‘Gosh,’ she said. ‘It must have happened this weekend. I didn’t see anything on Friday. I would have noticed this.’

‘We were wondering,’ Tom said, ‘if maybe on Friday morning, when you were with her, before Alice took her to the doctor’ – he realized he was rambling and stopped. He could barely bring himself to ask the question.

He didn’t need to.

Martha sat back on the couch, her expression first wounded, then fixed and angry, then finally composed. She put her hands, palms down, on her knees. ‘I know you have to ask, and I’m OK with that. But let me be very clear, Tom. If you’re asking whether I did it, the answer is no. If you’re not asking – if you’re accusing me of doing something – then the answer is still no, but you need to know this will be the last time I come here.’

‘I’m not saying that,’ Tom said. ‘I’m not accusing you at all, but like you said, I have to ask. Maybe there was an accident. She was falling and someone grabbed her. Or she banged herself against something. I didn’t see anything, but maybe you did. That’s all. I’m just asking.’

‘I understand,’ Martha said. ‘And if I had seen anything like that, or done anything like that by accident, I would have told you on Friday. I wouldn’t have waited for you to find out and come and ask me. But there was nothing for me to tell you.’

‘OK,’ Tom said. ‘I’m sorry, Martha—’

‘Don’t be. You’re a father. It’s your job to take care of your daughter.’ She looked at Joanna, then back at him. ‘She’s a baby, Tom. I would never hurt her. I couldn’t. I need to know you believe me.’